Speculation, in sight of dark clouds...

It is good, this blog.  This keeping of moments.  This real-time depository of memories.  It allows for the tracking of thought, the ever-cyclical return to the same places in the mind, the recurring dreams and desires.  Evidence of the inability to not think about escape.

One year returned, and how the work grows quiet, despite the conference calls next door.  The lengthy days with nothing for an assistant to do and the slow watching of the clock until the afternoon matches, or the closing of the door for the streaming of missed television shows.  Dallying over the latest youtube clips and researching details on the next adventure.  Anything but the focus on organizing the files, or pursuing the expansion of the career.  In wistful recognition that the famed gravy train appears to have run its fruitful course.

And so your fate lies in the hands of unknown developments.  Though it remains a choice to be passive, to while away the time, waiting.  To rest, I suppose, as you find again at last the motivation to take advantage of the facilities your condo fees have been paying for and begin anew the process of restoring the body to a healthier state, ready for the road.  Even as the efforts to avoid letting Friday nights get away from you continue to fail.

New days bring new hope.  There is also an application kicking around that seems was wise to send in.  That could offer a (perhaps temporary) solution to the travails, and also offer up some intriguing opportunities on the spring travel front.   

That front already looks ever-so promising, with the Xmas Eve departure of the last post booked.  Speaking of leaving fate to the unknown, who could have predicted the Robbie Burns night make-out, that led to the Hip concert last second invite that led to the Loose Cannon and then the Palace VIP and then the strange compulsion to procure a new phone number amid the people watching?  That is quite the convoluted way in which to meet the companion who will eventually join you to Tanzania to start on Kili before the year is up, and follow through to a safari and trip to fabled Zanzibar.  The odds, the ridiculousness, truly mind boggling in scope.

For you also have to factor in the unlikelihood of encountering L. Maurice at the Harvest Jazz and Blues fest - no doubt due to a desire to see French Hip-Hop - when you were there to see the last MG show with Soho.  And so, in the newly acquired rubber boots, fresh off a solitary trip to Moscow and news of the positive Italian and Montreal tests, did the dream arise with clarity...  and so did the perfect Expedia flights hold just long enough for the mention of it following Parkland, and leading to the purchase over Iphone and Blueberry Wheat at Rogues, where the Oxford reference on the rope ladder made back in 2002 seems to have finally faded out.  Two lost souls running away to something new.  Was it just one week ago that the booking was made?

All of this, fitting for the first Christmas Eve outside of Moncton to end, not in the drunk tank, but over the Atlantic.  A trip to top even the grandest taken to date.  Will there be employment for you on the return, who can say?  Perhaps the paranoia and pessimism will look foolish in retrospect upon the landing of some other large file.  Or perhaps not, and the accounts that once looked flush with Revenue Canada cash will be meager and require some creativity to pursue those things that need pursuing, whether on the Ransom or in Jardim d'Alah.

Leave it one more week, and see how the hours unfold.  But it may be that October is a month for putting out subtle feelers for new employ, whether across the seas or otherwise, that can fund a sailing and football excursion for the first half of 2014 that would rule them all.  The money has always been there and can be again, and you wonder if the idea of teaching English is not the way if the professor dream dies due to past failures to pursue it. 


No matter - all this speculation grows tiring, not that it has been set out to trigger future smiles.  Time to walk across the old pedway again, and lodge the first installment payment to the tax man of money that was never yours, and make a deposit for a room in Salvador which I hope you see the inside of come June.  What a world it is, to be able to make such plans...

Xmas Eve Departures

C. Wilkinson... can you imagine that double-attempt nickname?  That is some spectacular morbid humor, and no doubt it would raise you out of a depression and perhaps invoke a smile at this harsh yet subtle world.  Some nice wine during the evening at the fundraising dinner notable for the antique furniture, the constant references to thirty years of marriage, the lovely walk along the water to the event and the post-auction scotch.

Slow days since the return, and so all the more confident that the email documents to the law dean was the right choice, come what may.  Time will show the outcome, which should be intriguing to say the least.  Otherwise Dad's eye operation seems to have been a success, and indefatigable Mom has shined up the apartment and led to some overdue cleaning.  Lindsay asking you to help out on behalf of the group at the Oak Island conference and then Ann asking about Odyssey Live.  Some elements to fill in the gap in the timesheets for this month, which is looking bleak indeed.  And hence time to begin considering other options...

Does that include the University of Turku, hilariously?  Frustrating it is in Finland, but perhaps a Ryanair pass from Tampere.  Or the teaching English as a foreign language option.  Or something else.  First things first, would so love to nail down the Xmas Eve Kili departure.  Please just let the flights magically hold up or re-appear... 24 more hours.  It makes such sense on so many levels.

"Farewell sour annoy! For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy."

"Why, then, I do but dream on sovereignty;Like one that stands upon a promontory,And spies a far-off shore where he would tread,Wishing his foot were equal with his eye,And chides the sea that sunders him from thence,Saying, he'll lade it dry to have his way..."

Oh as I sat here, 5:49 left in the 4th quarter, the worst first 3 quarters of football that Coughlin has ever seen with 5 turnovers, but somehow still in the game with some amazing work from the WR corps and three salsa dances thus far...  3 and out this time, but hopefully Eli gets one more chance.

It would really top off a marvelous day - woke up fully rested after the Moscow trip, wooden gallery piece in hand, to the Armoury to pick up the Ozil jersey, and then a lovely day by the Thames watching Henry VI, parts one, two, and three at the Globe.  Some time on Millenium Bridge and around St. Paul's.  A pint at the Anchor, G&T for the final act, and a Guinness while Coop and I finalize the bidding on World Cup tickets.

"And I will see what physic the tavern affords."

Alas.  Almost the perfect script, but Eli was off and our backup running back is in.  Poor play call, and how unlucky can you get with 6 turnovers?  Damn it.  We've had our share of luck though, so tough to complain.

Time to fall asleep for two hours or so before Tim wakes me up at 7ish.  One final thought to end on, and hammer home.  The need to get yourself in fighting, traveling shape - especially if Kili remains in the cards.  As it should.  Fall asleep, and dream of that far-off shore, and what you must do to sunder any obstacles that keep you from it...  Begin again here.

From Russia, with uncertainty...

Going to type this out in an email, given the lack of ability to log into blogger from away...  and the confusion of the cyrillic alphabet doing nothing to help the understanding.  At least I figured out how to switch the keyboard over.  Just arrived and already settled in after only 24 hours or so, a clean and calm place where everyone assumes you can speak the language and does not really look twice at you.  Quite good timing, arriving for the Military Tattoo in Red Square, the monks and the Rock around the Clock and the South Korean Psy impersonation getting the crowd going.  Best of all the changing lights on St. Basil (Vasily) - truly a work of art, inspired enough to become a symbol of the country.  Will take another look tomorrow as the Kremlin and the tomb of Lenin get crossed off the list.

Lots of thoughts this trip about 2014 and the career and such.  Lying in bed sleepless tonight, mind returning to the Professor option as an outlet.  It really might serve as a way out, you know, a way to distance from the firm even if it does not turn out to suit you long term.  The July 1 start date hovers out there, leaving you in a position where the dreams of the sailing and WC could be completed without incident.  And then a return to a new start in Halifax post-Salvador?  

It appeals.  It offers the Southern Cross in July-October, and at least another year or two before making a(nother) final decision about Halifax, the opportunity to write, and an escape from the mundanity of the solicitor-client whirligig.  At least it is an option to throw out there, and one that should be explored I think.  No need for major decisions until January, and so, as the saying always goes, por que no?

Because I have a hard time seeing the alternative yet - what will come if you do drop everything in April for another extended foray out on the road.  The skills you have are narrow at this point.  Perhaps a head-hunter can line something up, but there can be no sense of that for awhile.  Which means dropping in the resume to preserve the chances.  

7 months or thereabouts left as a full-time lawyer at MC, then, in either case?  It would seem so.  Whether it was the continued inability to care about business development initiatives or the failed arbitration arguments or the simple inability to cope with filing (ha!) - a change feels as though it has always been coming.  So embrace it.  And think on avenues that might be next while there is world enough and time.

...Just a postcript to add...  will the spatula-sculpted doors make it through customs, or will they be declared too artistically or culturally significant?  We shall find out in a few hours I guess.  2 hours until 4:30AM, and a taxi up to Belorusskaya.  Should be entertaining either way... and the memory will last as long if it is taken hopefully.