2-Nil Down, 3-2 Up...

And what a Cup Day it turned out to be.  Such an exhausting ordeal, with another magical late winner to add to the Arsenal highlight reel for future tellings.  Still sinking in, slowly but beautifully, and as Arseblog says, I'll be basking in it like a bastard for awhile.  Brilliantly brief weekend, with the parade and the Pimm's and the Thames and the Globe to top it off, even as Antony and Cleopatra both proved disappointing...  Probably had to do in part with the struggle to stay standing, but no matter.  One to catch again at some point, and remember.

Do-do-do-do-do-do, Aaron Ramsey!  Just gold.

Now to plan the rest of the summer.  Focus on the next three weeks to get back into some reasonable shape.  Figure out camping and sailing and other adventures.  Etcetera.  Off for Oyster Happy Hour with Inch, as another year ticks on...

Cup Day

Remember the Yager pitchers, the David Brent, the Nando's busboy going to Wembley, the Hull fans in Covent Garden, the driver screaming out "She Wore" from the street, the walk around the stadium and the red/yellow scarf, the lattes and orange and wait for DHL World Cup tickets...  soon the Piebury, the train to Wembley Way, the Green Man, the expensive scapled ticket, and then. 

Just win it, Arsenal.  More to follow. 

The Duke of Wembley

How easy it proved to duck out of the second half of these “15/16” meetings. An email, a quick comment, and things move on. Reminder to follow what is important, and deal with the rest come what may.  Let this day, this view, this resignation to destiny, be a lesson to you.

Life, suddenly, is very good. The Antigua fiasco in the past, and a ticket procured to Wembley as a result. Two new nephews have entered the world, in seemingly wonderful health. What will be their story, I wonder? May they become Arsenal fans and see many famous victories. Back in A’s good books after the cable wharf confessions, and the hated arbitration now through its sleepless hearing, leaving one final brief to write before closing the case (we all hope).

Watching the clock tick by ever so slowly all afternoon before some farewell pints at the Duke. Tragically managed to leave the Masai scarf back home, but otherwise all seems to be going according to plan. To think that you’ll soon be exchanging this coveted view of the Narrows for that favourite of favourites, the ancient Thames. What a world.

Block 543, Row 17. The Green Man. Piebury Corner. Other assorted touchstones along the path of history, as you collect your first yellow ribbons and wait for 90 minutes of history to unfold in the oldest of cup competitions. Nothing to do but dream as brightly as possible, and then live out such dreams in thanks to randomness and the whims of lady fortuna.  As a lawyer especially, it is hard to avoid looking back at the uncontrollable pattern of events that led to this moment, the consequential nature of life and such.  How wonderful it can be, when things go according to ridiculous plans....

What else? What else could there be, truly. It looks a gorgeous day out there, but my tired body and mind are not yet up for the likes of Signal Hill at the moment. As the Coop says, energy must be conserved for Saturday. Time to take a solitary stroll back through the scene of a few crimes from a month ago as this fateful plan was hatched. Much can happen in the course of a month. And so it has. Now to make time slow down so each minute of the next 4 days is savoured.

Thus, without further adieu, let this ever-brief holiday begin, and let it not disappoint. Make it one to put up with the Arshavin and Henry goals that live long in the memory.

Do it, Arsenal.  C'mon. On.

Travesties

Day 1 of the week that all things working out should see you off to London by the end of Day 4.  Slight compromises to be made on two separate cases with two separate clients, perhaps, but you only live once.  Even more rarely do you get a shot to see the Arsenal live with a trophy on the line, so needs must.

And there is no sacrifice involved.  Words muttered in the room today, although hyperbolic, show what you imagine to be the case.  Note definition 3 in particular...

1. a literary or artistic burlesque of a serious work or subject, characterized by grotesque or ludicrous incongruity of style, treatment, or subject matter.

2. a literary or artistic composition so inferior in quality as to be merely a grotesque imitation of its model.

3. any grotesque or debased likeness or imitation: a travesty of justice.  

Inadvertence rather than deception, but still ever so frustrating to be associated with as a result.  Here's hoping PM finds a way to sort through things in a way that ends it, come what may.   His comment, uttered just to you, inquiring whether you are sleeping with this as well, show the extent to which this has reached the point of ridiculousness.  He said, she said, what said, etc.  Oh so difficult and oh so ready to move on.    So we wait for the work to be done to allow for the brief but oh so critical escape.  C'mon you parade to Islington town!!

Oh, and to record the latest in the drunken incidents as well, perhaps also a travesty but this time of your own doing.  Taking the time to get back into the good books after a 2 doors down to press gang to lower deck to cheers odyssey.  Visits to see Babs never end well.  Teenage dirtbag kareoke unremembered, found umbrellas and arriving to work basically drunk in the same clothes as the night before...  Something has to give and you wait to wonder what it will be. 

At least Jake A. has now been born, and that, my friends, is worth toasts of the finest liquor in the land.  Off to nab a few hours of sleep and come back around 4AM to try and deal with this SOC/NOA craziness.  What a life.

Five More Days...

Meant as a continuation from the Apr. 30th post below, today marking the last of what would have been the Antiguan/NYC adventure.  In the interim, the Statement of Claim finalized and sent for comments, the Reply Brief complete and ready for filing, the phone switched out for a brand new version, the boat driven over to its seasonal position and safely landed, a restorative trip home to smooth the waters for the Wembley and Globe appearances, as well as a potential writing sabbatical.  Late nights staring out this window as you get through the necessary work prior to the summer departure and wait for news on the nephew front.

It has been a week laced with thoughts of birth and death.  The nephews continuing their wait inside the womb for a few more days, coloured by other word from facebook about heart failures, strokes, and other untimely young departures from this fair world.  Topped off by the missing man reports that touch even closer to home, and make you realize (1) that life is taken for granted, and (2) you are not at all prepared should something strike you, with things in the current state.  You feel like a lot would have to happen to top the Westjet hijinx, and yet there you were at 3AM or so in the Harbour grappling for a way out that was only managed via ugly and abnormal bruises that remain these 5 days later and slowly fade.  Before Brazil you need to get your things in order, likely to be all the busier following the uncertainty of the walk-off disappearance in the Gut.  Imagine that for an ending, eh?  Oy oy oy.

Let the clock tick forward.  A merry week of madness to look forward to, and finally the grace of this much-forsaken arbitration finally coming to a head, and hopefully with the marrow in tact for at least one more hearing.  Then the planning of the dropping of the Friday absence to the other group in favour of a subtle escape on a flight from the Rock to your favourite of places for the first and possibly last time in 2014.  See you at the Newfie airport in 10 days or so.  How fun it will be to be through the next days, I must say, even in the face of the fact that time on the planet is precious and short.  The goal is to make each day more enjoyable, and the long-held plan to spend it putting words together on a page/screen looking ever more like the potential ticket.

Keep thinking on it.

The Fine Art of Creative Non-Fiction?

Another flash of insight, perchance?  In thinking about the future plans, and the looming sadness that marks the last few days of having missed out on joining A in A, and which has old NW of Bearly's fame commenting on how you look like you are planning to kill someone...  And as the planned Friday meeting has now been cancelled, meaning that you probably could have just about pulled off the United flights on the down-low after all...  And after seeing that perfectly random guy in the perfectly random yellow Antigua hat today...  And having reflected a little more on the crazy ridiculous bruises to the body and mind that stem from the post Mooseheads performance and that ill-fated Caesar (remember the look of your purple-blue stomach?) and how dangerously close that fall might have been to never recovering...

I find myself, once more, thinking of exit strategies.  What do you see yourself doing, other than law?  What skills have you acquired after all this time but for the ability to write, and put together arguments and stories?  What requirement above all is paramount but the ability to be transient - to work from anywhere?  If you take those twin goals of travel and prose, you are left with the beginnings of an idea that might just be worth pursuing for the long term.  In a sense, I wonder if it was always leading to something like this.

Tonight after the call on this infernal arbitration, I want to print off the course descriptions of some Canadian course options.  The requirements and the like.  How it might play out, to allow for a summer/fall departure in 2015.  Half the year of earnings offset by some tuition payments.  A chance for a clean break and travel while researching the "creative non-fiction" ideas and angles that has been lurking somewhere underdiscovered for the past while.  Time before an application next Jan/Feb to put together a bit of a portfolio, including a Brazilian World Cup report that would be worth the effort? 

"Creative Non-Fiction".  I do like the sound of that.  Let's look into 'er.

I know how this goes - an idea, a spark, some thought that this might be the best of all possible worlds and options to pursue, only to see it discarded as other events take precedence.  And yet...  I can see this being the one as well.  Evaluate the King's option along with the others, but it seems to tick the boxes - a further two year tie to Halifax and yet not anchored to it.  Freedom in your mode of living abroad and yet with a concrete purpose and explanation to the doubters and family.  An ability to smooth out the necessary tax payments, plus the promise of a clean break in only a year's time - which will, as you know, pass quickly.

Excitement, he smiles.  Oh S., I wonder...