How Sad a Passage

Good night 2011; Hello 2012, you beauty

2011-12-31T02:43:00.000-08:00

Well, it has been quite the year - more magical travels, marked by the purchase of a boat and a car (in that order) discovery of cigar in brilliant Havana, and escape from the confines of Halifax in as smooth a transition as you like. The freedom of the new PhD lifestyle is enviable, and here we are again in London resident in Cooper's apartment for a few plays and Arsenal matches. If you had known this is where you would end up as of January 2011, hard to imagine it would not bring a smile.

There are still issues to address, chief among them settling into Galway's charms, but that should be easily done. Some interesting possibilities await in Limerick, and from potential visitors of a similar mind. The resolutions have been posted and include only visits to destinations not yet visited and more time and skill devoted to the beloved boat. Indy 500, Rio, Venice, India, and this time next year in Zanzibar. "You man of steel you," quoth the Coop. Heh. Not exactly a resolution to change the ways, but to continue maximizing the experience on the planet as the years tick upward.

Go on, McMahon. Keep it going, and enjoy. No reason 2012 cannot serve as the best one yet.

Moving Day

2011-08-25T23:31:00.000-07:00

3:31AM. Everything looks pretty sweet, just a few clothes to pack, and the floor to vacuum and then sayonarah 1280 it has been fun, eh? Strange to think of the number of nights spent under this ceiling in this little corner of the world. And that tonight is the last. The last. So final. The number of times the door code has been punched, never again. No more ignoring the transient passengers upstairs, or the like. No more unconscious returns and wasted recovery days in this peaceful, hidden cave of an abode.

It is all to the good. What more could you ask for as you paid down the debt and stomped off for a few further adventures, avoiding the inevitable purchase of the car all the while? And there is a need to change things, refresh/renew the spirit and the mind. A cleansing of life itself. Going through old purchases and accumulations, tossing out most things but keeping what can still make you smile. Tedious, but the rejuvenation proves worthwhile.

For there is much to look forward to on the other side of the Atlantic. First the small matter of Kath's nuptials, and another marker on the road toward feeling old. So be it. Shaved the beard for the first time in awhile tonight - another way to shake things up, feels younger but also feels new, the same eyes staring out at a far different face. It does not take much for the magic of "change" to make its prescence felt.

And a disguise in a sense, in case you bump into the assailant of last Saturday night. Glad to see the previous post from the moment, it captures the main thrust better than words in retrospect. To hear Amitabh retell the story is classic, the spitting up of blood, the sweetness of the kick to the summer, my perfectly smooth fall into the flowers. Just too funny in the end, once you emerge (relatively) unscathed. Considering the possibilities, it could have been disastrous. No matter. "Leave we him to his events, with a prayer they may prove prosperous..." And as for you, Galway beckons. Ready to start? Ah yes. Escape is at hand...

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2011-08-21T00:49:00.000-07:00

Who was that asshole? Who wailed on your left temple, and then Amitbah's defence also landed him here. The boys are owed a drink, for sure. But who was the girl with the guy who unexpectedly turned v. His girl. What an error. Almost hilarious, the attack. A beer for our boys, surely. And a pretty little Irish lass, of course. Oh life. You must make it so fun, non?

Rosee d'Hibiscus

2011-08-18T09:10:00.000-07:00

Patio lunch, on this glorious summer day as you continue the long semi-goodbye to Halifax. A riotous last fortnight, from the Friday of the Hip and vague Seahorse (un)memories before the early boat trip to Peggys, to the following week's cigar symposium and ready-to-start, Andie MacDowell / Teri Hatcher Alehouse antics, early morning boating again, and then the Illicit, Malenfant, and room 486 capping off a grand Monday night. Now here just soaking up the relaxing calm of a Thursday afternoon patio ale. Nice breeze, at once a shame about the lack of company and a blessing simply to have been urged out of the usual pattern.

It has been that way, these past few weeks. Whether just the call of summer or the impetus granted by the relief of certainty over the escape, I sense new doors opening and a willingness to entertain them. It is the perfect attitude with which to start the next phase of life's adventure.

For example, there is the thin blond who also arrived alone, cracking open her library book two tables down. If on the road, you have to think, you would just opt for the approach. For the story, if nothing else. The Korean hat mentality, in other words. The care-free, come-what-may, fuck-'em attitude. Although important at first to keep things within your grasp. The end is in the beginning and all that. Where you have the start to recreate.

Le Banquier is on his way and should go well with this DAB. And then? I love the random possibilities. I love how there is little doubt you will do your best Econ thinking in your favorite Galway pub. Almost feel like that's one of the great unspoken goals of the trip over too. To settle on that girl.

Enough. What needed to be recorded has been. Let's see what follows. Without fear.

The Future Goal of Sailing Over?

2011-08-10T07:08:00.000-07:00

It has been done, and well chronicled at that (see note on leaving Halifax and the entry on arrival 24 days and 3,087 miles later). That should make for interesting reading... A goal for year 4? We shall see. Just another intriguing angle on this upcoming adventure. May also have hit upon a plan last night for New Year's that would encompass Hamlet, Rylance, the Gunners, and maybe even the Northern Lights for good measure. My oh my. "Smart man," says Gibson as you walk down the soon-to-be-unfamiliar corridor. I'll take that.

"Un jour à la fois"

2011-08-08T06:27:00.000-07:00

Or so read the label on the extraordinarily refreshing red orange juice this morning, after the pieces of the weekend slowly started to get picked up following a wasted Sunday. The softening haze of time and all that, dignity shattered and left to heal slowly piece by piece with the proper combination of laughter and forgetting in equal measure. Ah, randomness. You have an epic way of commemorating moments, just put it that way and leave it. And put it another way as well, in the words of that Hip song and a new favourite, Escape is at hand for the travelin' man. A night in which that is (re)discovered can never be a bad one. I wonder if anything will come of this morning's message, but even assuming nothing, hard to consider it anything other than a not-bad way in which to leave Halifax for new entertainment on foreign shores.

It also strikes me (as both funny and appropriate) that through all the back-and-forthing of application tedium, once the surprising word came through on an actual acceptance two weeks ago today, it has taken this long to log the fact herein. Much done in that short time as you move along a track destined for Eire, there is much to contemplate. I think a departure from Montreal will suit wonderfully. Why not spend the Labour Day weekend abroad? The dates for moving out all the more perfect, just as you would have hoped last summer when the decision was made to stay on for one more year. Oh my oh my. How the world turns.

Toyed just now with the thought of starting a new blog for the new adventure, but probably will opt to just keep this anonymous journal running. It has suited the purpose well, and no need to mess with a good thing... But an online Guinness tally is probably a requirement, so maybe that is how you change it up. So much to be done, just one more sign of feeling alive, etc. Awesome.

Awaiting the Go/No Go

2011-07-25T07:17:00.000-07:00

Sitting in on this call after a weekend tidying up office, room, and mind, and awaiting confirmation of status quo, or the unlikely possibility of a life-changing email in an hour or two. So much to decide this week either way. An update to follow. At least there is Zanzibar at the end of the line if van Rensburg just was not convinced enough to come around... Funny the uncertainty, befitting a wry smile and lazy dreams. Oh well. What will be, will be.

Of Girls, Shawls, and infinite Futures

2011-07-22T13:45:00.000-07:00

So. The third of three interviews wraps up, and even mixing it up you provided probably the most disappointing of the three performances. Why not use the internet in front of you as a subtle aid on the opening question?? Oh well. I can only imagine their concerns at the elementary responses.

And Yet. You got your chance to make the blunt pitch. Might they need you in any case? Might they choose to take a flyer on a desperate man? You shall know in 60 hours or so. Should you arrange a potential martini celebration with 1991? How funny is that... And how fun at least to dream secretly in the interim, of the songs and stories that would come of this. Setting up shop in the Quays would be just so randomly glorious as to defy belief. And the fact that the PhD would be in economics all the more random and hence better. Loved Coop's response how as a professional economist he would have been floored. Dead birds though! Damn it Stransky, nice one.

Out of your hands, and so to the waterfront. Great chatting with Homi online via Turkey - has there ever been a better time than that, he asks? Hard to think of one, to be honest. That's the goal - to get back to that.

Bring it on boys. Bring it.

And so let the waves...

2011-07-09T23:29:00.000-07:00

... Rock me gently to sleep. So much to say. "You guys know how to sail?". "Basically" follwed by ridiculous laughter with N. Inch setting the stage. The glorious stars. The idea itself, no idea of it as of a few weeks ago. How could you predict this?

Fishing in the unknown

2011-07-05T14:59:00.000-07:00

A day after skype, and deep still lies the uncertainty over what will happen next. Such an unsettling feeling, just waiting. The last trap about to be pulled from the water from you for the season, and fingers are crossed and thumbs held that it proves a winner. All seems lined up, it would be a terrible shame to see the chance pass. BUT out of your hands. Out goes the line beside you into the water. There is some skill in the cast and the flicks and the reel and the bait. But there is luck in it. Ha! For the pursued as well as the pursuer. Just as I looked to celebrate the guy's quick catch, he drops it pulling it out of the ocean. Then a quick nibble but again a failure to raise. Could it be symbolic of Groningen, then Aarhus? Can he land the third?

Patience. It is too difficult not to allow the mind to leap ahead to the moment in time in which you see the email in the inbox. If only a fixed date at least were known. What means each day's passing? What to do in the meantime, when the mind is elsewhere. On this beautiful, beautiful day. Cuba is going to be scorching but I cannot fucking wait. Either way, map out the future there. Blank piece of paper. "Time will work it out for you."

Oh McMahon. Just... Just... Something else will come along if not. Trust in that. If if if... C'mon Suzie. Be the girl.

Lessons from Interview Two

2011-07-04T14:04:00.000-07:00

So difficult to assess such a performance. So much I would have rather said, and so hard not to stumble over phrasing at times and to be conscious of it as the words emerge. It would have been far preferable to have been able to see all three questioners, but then again maybe not. Frustrating the key words and concepts left out that were staring you in the face, as you nervously glanced down and to the side - how much it is difficult to say, of course. And maybe the answers you prepared came off okay. Just kicking myself about the opening - so easy to anticipate, but the answer so large it is difficult to put it just so. Oh well.

I do think you can be more confident if given occasion in future, no need to be so self-deprecating in terms of specialized knowledge, even where it is the truth. Struggling, after, whether or not to send the follow-up email as well, all contrasted with how you fared against the Dutch so many mornings ago. But surely erring toward honesty is not something to get too down over.

Ultimately, it is up to the fates, I suppose. Shall it be Dublin for the forseeable future or not. Maybe it went all right after all, who can say? If it is meant to be, then you shall do it. And if not, the road is wide and open and there will be something else. What that will be is anyone's guess at this stage. It really would just be good to KNOW, comforting to find that new course. But patience, as old Arthur and the chinese fortune cookie advise. Time will show if this is the one soon enough.

Oh, I wonder.

Flat

2011-06-28T14:41:00.000-07:00

For fuck's sake.

Under Cornwallis...

2011-06-19T18:11:00.000-07:00

His statue stares outward, toward his home, surely, and perhaps your future destination. There is no question, having turned this over in your mind this past week, that this is a course that must be taken if the chance is given. Inch rightfully seeks to understand the why behind It - how to explain the desperate desire for a fresh start, before it is too late. How to explain the tiredness, the inability to approach this lived-in city with fresh eyes and mind? The insatiable need to cut all ties and take out a new piece of white paper and just begin.

Not to over-reach in the poor analogy department, but here you sit on a bench by the statue on a wonderful summer night, and the old worn green paint wearing thin in various layers reveals the concrete below. Just as earlier today, the many coats of paint on the rusty iron keel of the Southern Cross gave way (if only in part) to the newly purchased hammers. It is hard work, going back to the beginning. Such stuff that accumulates gradually over the years and stays and stays, as testament to age. Here lies a chance, a final chance, in a city of such wonder and nostalgia and magic such that you adore. It is the third in a series of stops to complete the Scotland-England-Ireland tour of old. It is - to put it bluntly - what your life needs.

You need to - if successful in getting it - give it the full measure and honor of your attention, devote the best of your efforts and skills. But it shall be for you. And it should take into it all a whole bunch of charming and characteristic measures. You can count the pints of Guinness as you go, climb Kili and visit some jeopardized island nations on assignment and write about them. More than just a dry account, but something lasting. It can be done, and it won't be somebody else's work.

No need, after this reflection, to convince me anymore. Two years returned from the travel leave - this is a fitting resumption of the adventure. Just convince Suzie and Colin, and the rest will work out. Promise. Here's hoping Habana provides the venue for celebrations.

Bloomsday, and the Improbable Possibles

2011-06-16T15:46:00.000-07:00

It really is hard to find a sweeter wharf for a cigar than Alderney Landing, as the ferry across gets ready to make way. All shaping up for an extraordinary summer, the purchase of the boat to be finalized tomorrow, three weeks after the topic was proposed just here. Stransky confirming his attendance as well.

Yes, it is set for a marvellous summer. And it was also set for a predictable, profitable fall. Until. Dublin. And the email at an opportune time, just when you were resigned to not needing it. To plan B. It is the superior position, perhaps of the entire multitude of emails launched these past five months.

Not to put the pressure on. But there is a sense of how well this might go, how fitting in various ways that it could be. I would love to walk those streets these next years, remembering the beginning, and the middle, and having the opportunity for a complete reboot. As ever.

Time for the ferry. Just get it Mcmahon. Just get it.

Another Good June Five

2011-06-05T20:17:00.000-07:00

...and potentially momentous one, at that. It did not start off that way, but after escaping the office for the vistas of the Dartmouth Yacht Club and then Shining Waters it could only go in one direction. Best perhaps to just quote the following email and leave it at that:

"No worries man. Good story for you too. After 3PM, went out boating hunting, and I think my buddy and I might soon be owners of a Tanzer 7.5 named "Southern Cross"! It's a sweet 24.5 foot sail boat that has room to sleep 4 and looks just beautiful. Now we just need to learn to sail her! Ah, how perfect a June 5 if that were to work out. You'd definitely have to try and make it out here in September to assess our progress.

Boat priced at $8000, but I'm sure we can get the guy down a bit to the point where we'd be looking at $5-6000 each or so for the purchase and the launch, mooring, and storage fees through the winter. Quite pumped. Hilariously, it probably means I'll need to get a car as well, and have already been thinking about the accommodations for next year, and having a car means I might fold for a cheap condo that is a bit outside the downtown and under a solid renovation at the moment.

Rather ridiculously, I could go from owning essentially nothing to owning a boat, car, and condo in less than a week. Not too bad, I guess, and isn't that what June 5 is all about? Now to see if an email arrives this week from a prof in Dublin or Galway to mess with these plans..."

Just that simple, sometimes. Looks like some fodder for Krapp's tape, as another, stranger plan begins to take shape. Let us see where this one leads, eh? In the mean time, good to have a boat that has its own, excellent theme song, by Crosby, Stills, and Nash:

"When you see the Southern Cross
For the first time
You understand now
Why you came this way
'Cause the truth you might be runnin' from
Is so small.
But it's as big as the promise
The promise of a comin' day."

Nocturnes

2011-06-02T16:45:00.000-07:00

It is amazing, the power of self-empowerment, betimes. Only a few days now until June 5 and then the 32nd. Woke up this morning to an inevitable yet overdue message. An inevitable one, but which was softened by time, appropriately. So you smile and move forward. The unexpected response from Almaty emerges, and in its strangeness may lead toward an imminent return to Cuba. We shall hopefully know manana, and from there it is to the study of Spanish, pronto. I have some boys to see there again. And a sign of change, a return to destinations loved rather than the new. A sign, perhaps...

He types from old faithful fireside, and the corner holding the volume of Charles and the Sixth of June. Probably worth a stop on the 8th. Itinerary totally unknown. Although would not that helicopter have been something! No matter. It shall be a strange day, and so as a stranger give it welcome.

Much more to say - about the development of (still another) plan to tackle Kili, as a way to comfort you through the next months struggles and placate the failed plans of disappearance. Combined with the onset of summer, and the hilarious articled clerk asking your judgment on whether he was wearing a clubbing suit or a work suit. Remember that?

Going to enjoy this eggplant sandwich and tommy's, and Kashuo's stories about "the struggle to keep alive a sense of life's romance, even as one gets older, relationships founder, and youthful hopes recede.". In the old words, how can that be anything but great?

"...a sort of loneliness induced by a buzz of information"

2011-05-22T10:57:00.000-07:00

Lazy Sunday watching the last throes of the 10/11 premiership season via the ups-and-downs of Blackpool at the Theatre of Dreams, and hearing news of an overdue engagement. Now to the office, where work awaits. I do not care for it, alas, though certain interim things must be done.

Having spent the first months of the year diligentlyl casting about for new angles from which to approach the world, coming close in just one particular instance, I am left waiting through the next few weeks on the last remaining chances - confronted at the same time by the overwhelming volume of potential hours ahead along the camino of the status quo. It is maddening, the inability to break out of old habits and routines within familiar surroundings.

The solution continues to be to just trundle along, as the lethargy looms so powerfully that the mere idea of organizing the two rooms in this city in which your life resides is ever so wearisome. Without something on the horizon to look toward, that is truly just the word. No longer is it enough, it would seem, to soothe the rising anxst with weeks of escape here and there to exotic locales. Something more permanent is obviously needed.

So we keep thumbs held for either Birgitte or Suzanne to work some magic. If not, it may be time for some serious thinking come the end of June. But more on that when more is known. Until then there is but work, and dreams. And hope of getting back out in the open in pursuit of those "paradoxes that have to be seen to be believed."

Time for fetching up...

2011-05-20T09:44:00.000-07:00

Back from five of the best days in one of the superb places of the hemisphere, clearly. Gracias, Habana, por todo. I have some words written out on scraps of paper, the best I could glean from the fabulously exhausting five days. Exhausting except, of course, for each day's splendid symposium sunset with cigar and rum.

How distant it seems from these boardrooms and repetitive meetings. Lots of work to be done from now until September, more so than I would have even thought a few days ago. Almost to the point that having banked the hours to this point, and with a bleak summer ahead, the option to once again work for the bonus as last year.

But where does that end? Two things are clear: Time is ticking (it is always later than you think) yet it costs money to trot the globe. One further thing as well: that you need a fresh start in a new place where you have a chance to settle in.

The 32nd is quickly approaching, so hopefully there is some ocean-side mountain top to mull the real options. It remains murky, the future. Through the glass darkly, and all that. Should get the mind back to this meeting. But it remains the case that the present is unsustainable. The power to choose between options. Just need to find the right one...

Foggy Mountain Dhu

2011-05-09T11:15:00.000-07:00

Remember this bus ride, to and fro the windy rolling mountain tops of Pictou county, following the hilarious convergence of paths with Yensen. The weather a tonic for the upcoming flight south to la habana (more on the hopes for that jaunt tomorrow I hope) and again the Irish influence overwhelming in its soothing presence. The Dock a pub of good Guinness paraphanelia and more, and another Behan quote ("Take your hour, and have another.")

It is so very hard, to see the days like these through jaded eyes. Respectful of accomplishments that seemed so unlikely, and yet distant on the date of the occurrence. Not quite the right words there, but the meaning should be easy enough to recollect. In essence, the heart is just now fully in it. Maybe because it is so local, or maybe for other lethargic reasons, but the thought persists. Onward, toward wider horizons.

And so here you sit, pondering the endless rains of the day through the whiteness of this May sky, all around those who seem to have come to peace with their current station, while you harbour the knowledge of secretive applications within. Let it be Ireland, at this point I think, under whatever guise. Until then, let the immediate dreams be of Cuba, cigars, rum, and the malecon. Yes, baby, yes.

Blood wine and Trevellyen's corn

2011-05-05T16:32:00.000-07:00

The fog on the harbour is so beautiful, and will be missed. In this last May in Halifax (he hopes), it is just that kind of enveloping weather that convinces you to hit the ancient/modern ferry. As Larsen studies and Clarke works and you scheme about escape and June 8.

"My blood sings like wine..." and "low lie the fields of Athenry". The lonely trek across the harboring Atlantic always warms the heart.

And the imponderable questions. The Cooper lunch and the Wallace atheism and pseudo effort around the divine right of kings and true lies. Mentioned here only so not to forget. Eh?

As slow as you drink this Guinness, it still seems so long between boats. But with Mcguinty, I think the OT calls, so let us have another Guinness back on the Halifax side.

There needs at some point, to be a frank sit-down about post-August, whether alone or with a sounding board. But. It is there, and I think you need to celebrate this Christmas far afield from 207. But at least say this, the idea of a return to Sydney on June 8 seems a good one. Rental car at least. And in that, an instinctive blue sky thought makes this a day worth remembering.

Perhaps there will be more. For now I return to the boat for a return crossing. Where darkness has descended with its water, but the fiddle is beautiful.

A New, Fabulous Potential Idea of Last Resort...?

2011-04-20T20:39:00.000-07:00

Where were we? Oh yes. Plotting. Or rather, staring - disjointedly - out the window of the Banff Springs, frustrated at the Friday morning email which carried the disappointing news, so out of tune it was with the prior evening merriment in the company of St. James and the random Man in Black. But the world spins forward, and the Guinness at the Ship did soothe the soul even as they weren't exactly ingested in celebration. But a grand weekend to set the markers down all the same, and stir up questions that led no doubt to the Metro Centre Box, Crown-fueled insanity of the Seahorse and sloppy dancing at places you probably do not need to return to anytime soon. Despite the thoughts of returning to the goodlife routine, there was that innate need to seek some outlets to the haunting uncertainties, and so it was taken. No apologies required.

And hence the flyer of a package off to Strathclyde and the desperate late-night, last-minute plea of a proposal to the Danes to add to the Leiden missive of April Fool's. More proverbial crap thrown out along so seemingly haphazard lines into the unknown, awaiting some form of acknowledgment.

Yet those waiting games are long, and results may never get as good in the short-term as that Skype chance with Northern Holland at that. All of which wouldn't be so bad, except for the fear of arriving into the summer and not having any further sense of the how and wherefore of the ultimate escape.

Randomly, as always, I think now we may have just found in these Passover nights before Easter the hint of an idea for a last resort by which much might get tied together... and which depend on nothing but your resolve. It snowballed quickly from the review of the Aarhus packages and the thought of complicating the taxes by a mid- to late-year start, leading to the simpler thought of a position starting early 2012, and how that would both allow for the final curtain call of a hearing and time following it that could be spent productively (personally and professionally) back out on the glorious road, winding as it must through COP-17 and Durban, South Africa...

Once the openings there on hostelworld were found, off the dreams went, and the google searches for ways to sneak inside a delegation to justify the attendance in full, right to the absolutely perfect discovery of the obvious via the already-existing Dal connections. The circle, of a sudden, complete and staring back at you from the screen.

It is, after all, usually that final unexpectedly perfect piece that clinches it, when it falls into place. Because this way you can stick around for hearings through the end of October and then can take your leave graciously, first stop London - the first and necessary departure point. There, a return to the customary seat for the Arsenal and Gooners pub, hopefully Sheen as Hamlet, and then the long flight down, with no plan from there other than some reference letters in hand, visions of the snow on Kilimanjaro over Christmas and the Cape of Good Hope, and time...

I like this the best (he smiles). Just need accommodations in September and October and then... vamos. Tell me where this falls apart. Granted it is after midnight, but I do not see it. 6 months to wait. Money to be saved, of course, and if applications sort themselves out, all the better. But surely this is how to live, and what you need to sustain you through to 32. Oh Kili, Kili, Kili. Can mom forgive me if I miss the first ever Christmas eve for ye?

Looking forward to bouncing this one around the walls of the Parque-Central in a few weeks. You fucking know it.

UPDATE - emails sent and received to the good Professor, and a time set for late June when such plans can be discussed in more detail. There may yet lie some uncertainty in attaining formal observer status, but you have to think that a way in must be found in any case. Make it so.

"unfortunately we did not decide in your favour"

2011-04-09T09:53:00.000-07:00

Ouch. Would have been the perfect setting to celebrate good news, but in the end what can you do. Two years on from the Camino and I had thought things were lining up nicely. Oh well. All not lost and a good time in Banff all told. Now time to see if you can convince any other of the European schools to take a flyer. The experience in the application process was valuable, though, and hopefully it can assist in landing, as G. says "something as interesting or better."

What has resulted from all this, I think, is the decision to pursue the PhD soon. Given the state of this year, might make sense to hold out for another bonus, although sadly that means further delays until at least February. Contingent on offers, I guess, so no decision needed yet. It will be interesting to see if anything emerges in the next month as you wait for Cuba.

Your Key to the Universe

2011-04-03T10:19:00.001-07:00

(if you can figure it out) Good start to a Sunday, wearing the t-shirt and feeling as fresh as the new month of April that has now arrived. Marking one year at 1280 at that, strange how time can be made to speak in such anniversaries. Now, having spent the first few months of 2011 imagining potential futures, the best hope lies in the hands of a few gentlemen across the pond. It continues to be so very difficult to put off thoughts of what could be as you wait for their word, but so be it. The rapid development of a backup response for a neighbouring application at least leaves an option in the works should the verdict be negative. But the way this has shaped up, from London to Almaty to the happy medium in between, I just have to hope the stars are aligned on this one thing. So the clock ticks on, and flights to Calgary and perhaps Toronto beckon before 5 glorious May nights in Havana. How much more peaceful and majestic those days might be made if only... At least the delay makes you realize that this is the right choice for it all, rather than just any old feeble escape. It is a move toward something of substance, while maintaining the way in which this vagabond's life must be lived. Let me know this week, boys. If it is going to happen, let's have it with the full fearful symmetry at the Ship on 17th all these years later.

If if if IF...

2011-03-30T20:38:00.000-07:00

...crazy few days of non-sleep and madness toying with the soul, leading up to and through the interview with doctors OC, EW, and SW (a "doctor's appointment", heh, not even a lie) this early morning. Finding sleep hard to come by, as the pressure builds in direct correlation to thoughts on how perfect this option might turn out to be in terms of the future of... well... everything. Even as tied into the current work. It so fits. I have to think the interview went well and that no more could have been done, but the uncertainty now is maddening, given the desire to leap ahead to planning how that course would play out in dreams. And so the let-down, if a rejection comes, will be massive - that is clear. Just have to live with it if there is someone out there among the other 30 applicants who managed to shine that much brighter. What will be will be. Keep up the optimism, though. Plus, if the news is positive, I cannot wait for that barbaric yawp.

Cypriot Anglias

2011-02-18T16:18:00.000-08:00

How memorable and sad and true and special was tonight's conversation with 70 year old Serge of Nicosia, 10 year veteran of this hostel. His slow manner of speech and gait masking the wisdom and humour behind his eyes and untamed white beard. The best 70 cents paid, to get him a drink and sit with him for awhile. Slow at first the conversation, covering the usual ground, but gradually there are lines released spontaneously, after a few sips of magical liquid that does ease the tensions on a Friday.

Tonight was not a night for Empire club, or Basement, or Library, and certainly not the ridiculousness of that Irish "Pub". It was for those moments with Serge, another instance of connection with a being so un-alike in age and circumstance of life experience but yet so similar in the important ways. Trying to capture in words his sayings almost beside the point - and he even had a foreboding line on that, too - but because they do not deserve to fade let them be remembered here.

His summarizing of his reasons for his whirlwind tour of Europe in his early days hit the mark - "I went only to catch the difference in the places, from Athens up to Paris or wherever, to catch the impressions. I never considered that 'traveling' to be honest, it was something else entirely." His first trip actually to East Africa ("you can imagine the impact on a young boy from Cyprus, which is poor with animals") and he never escaped that call.

But what was best about the trading of stories was how clearly tired he is. He can no longer throw on the backpack. He wasn't insistent about it, but he wanted that to be clear. "Ah, at 30, 31, I remember. It is a realization - you are not old, but you are no longer young either. Quickly, then you are 40, and then you have to take a look around! And wonder a bit more seriously at the choices!" And then the perceptive insight - "You remember you were saying about the amount of food in the meze. You eat and you eat and you eat and there comes a point you can eat no more. Imagine that feeling, trying to eat more when you are full. You cannot. It is uncomfortable and unpleasant. That is now how the idea of far-flung travel to the corners of the world is for me. Even though I like it, I cannot take more."

Then there is Dean in the background as well - the self-described 60-year old bastard - who is currently occupying a room in this hostel for the longest consecutive time in his life, since 3.5 years in Morocco. Teacher of English and character, waiting for his mom to die to soak the last part out of life. He would be hard to take in bunches (especially compared to the quiet Serge) but their is inspiration there too - not being tied down, and damn the consequences. Teach English if you have to, and you can, but if the road is life then you can surely manage, right?

But it was Serge who was the revelation, and will be, of the time in Cyprus, even as you are unlikely to meet again except to say farewell. He recommended the Cypriot Anglias as a late-night tonic, and as I drink it now I remember two other key points among the other words. The first about the quantity of memory and giving up photography. He had run out of patience with the stacks of pictures and so just stopped always being so pre-occupied by it. But, it is okay because you can only store so much in your head anyway, he says. But it is easier now for travelers, I say. It is easier with the digital camera to just take the pictures and store them on the computer for when you need them. You are missing the point, he says. There still comes a point where it is TOO MUCH. Wait, when you are older you will see. Whether you have the pictures or notes on a computer somewhere or not. I hope he is wrong, but that follow-up did catch me off guard in a way that made me think.

And then of course, the end. His thanking you for the conversation, how it brought back to him some fond memories. There is some of him in you. His idealism and concern and ultimate passivity in the face of politics. His quiet resignation. His eyes and smile and easy laughter. Both these guys at the hostel a cautionary tale but also a reminder of what is important. In such ways. At this time of thought on what must be next. Amidst the bars and the impulsive checking of the fb profile feed and the rest. What must be next can and must truly be what you decide, consciously.

For it is later than you think. The empty tomb of the kings, the dust of Kourion, the impassive horizon, the creeping tick-tock of the hours, on vacation or otherwise, the need to keep finding the spark of spontaneity over and over again. The tide waits not, and neither should you.

Let that be the lesson of this mediterranean look-out. And leave the rest of the Anglias as a farewell gift to Serge.

ooh-to-be

2011-02-16T19:35:00.000-08:00

Yes. Find your superlatives for that one later. But what more could you have hoped for but to hear the commentators croon afterward that it had lived up to the hype. Should have just gone for a 2-1 straight instead of the Van Persie winner as well, but how could I presume to care. And as the guardian MBM states - what price an Arsenal-Spurs Champions League final at Wembley. Oh the world, if it could pull that imaginative feat off.

Funny walk through Camden Town and along the lock today, after the late wake-up call. I sense a similar mid-day struggle tomorrow, with a funny addition to navigate. We shall see. What remains important are the little things - hilarity of Cyber Dog (having mis-read the connection) and the vintage nature of the Stables Market, followed by the walk along the water to the tune of the New World. With thoughts of London as something to keep so lovingly at a slight arm's-length. We'll see. Which is worth recording, but the true line was Tim's mate who memorably commented how it was the moment that you walk through the gate, and the full stadium opens up before you, that you remember why you love this stuff so much. He, who heads home tonight with a smile and broken glasses (my favorites, he claims). Such are the nights of legend. 78 and 83. See what you have left next month, boys. Surely you are in with a chance.

As for us, Cyprus tomorrow, and drinks in the old town of Limassol as the world turns. Oh my. What could be next?

Young's Special

2011-02-15T04:14:00.000-08:00

Well, here we are in the actual traditional corner of always - Young's Special nicely pulled with a wi-fi connection as a new wrinkle on the usual meeting with Coop. I'd send him an email, but that seems to be pushing it slightly. Best to wait for his inevitable arrival. Thames and St. Paul behind, the Blackfriars station still under construction, and the restaurant slowly filling up.

Uneventful trip in, and even with only an hour or two of rest I am feeling pretty solid, it must be said. Too bad about the cracked Oyster card, but another little interaction with the workings of the City. Funny, in walking from Waterloo amidst the construction and past the Mad Hatter, the thoughts already that you may never get over being a tourist to this fair city, and that this isn't necessarily a bad thing. That the slow uptake on any speculative applications to the larger law firms is one that may have served as a blessing in leading you to more brazen and fitting solutions.

In that line, there was one main, nostalgic thought worth recording from this year's mid-Atlantic crossing (has it been "annual", he wonders? Oxford in 04 and 05, Germany in 06, London - twice - and Paris in 07, London and Tel Aviv in 08, Rome in 09, and London again in 10... so yes. Nice.) The thought being, you can only do this so many more times, you know? Obvious, but maybe only more so with age (and such, as she would say). Heh.

Got a job to do now before Coop arrives - use the free internet to build a document of Financial Times articles on carbon trading, since you saw a good one opposite on the Tube that spurs some thinking. Whether the Groningen option works out, nothing to say you can't embark somewhere on your own... Just saying. Keep it in mind.

Now Groningen?

2011-02-13T14:27:00.000-08:00

Another day, another option makes its appearance on the horizon - in turn making yesterday's lie-in seem perhaps far more productive than it was. Amazing how little time it takes to rattle off another set of embellishments to send out into the void for a response. All via the amazing interconnectivity of the fabulous internets - how would you survive without that marvel? (far more poorly, comes the answer back right quick)

And it has its unique benefits, this one. Defendable career-wise, and depending on the nature of things could provide the maximum flexibility of movement of any choice out there. Location is perhaps not ideal, but that just depends on random people anyway, and since you need a place to settle into, why not that one? Not to mention the proximity to the world hub of Amsterdam as well. In short, I think it works, to be frank, and on this there is the added benefit that the qualifications might provide a real match to the position offered. Ah, I wonder. What ultimate shape will the "bespoke" opportunity for this fall take? So long as it provides a route of escape, I suppose it hardly matters in the end... just needs one is all.

A strange day, this, as it also involved such time spent in reflecting on an airline ticket that now looks to go unused and requires further change to the plans. But not unforeseen, these past weeks, and maybe the postponement will prove easier on the soul. Though now the randomness of the additional passenger to Larnaca seems all the more ridiculous and potentially intriguing as a focal point of the trip. Tread carefully, my friend, as you dream above all of the options for the future and the stacks where copies of your documents sit. Inhale the fresh air of foreign lands and smile rueful smiles at the playful unexpectedness and yet predictability of the universe. Soak up the magic of Messi and the words of Master Shakes too - both are timeliness but your exposure to them in their arenas remains all-too limited.

Vacation time is here, and even though it's not technically a stranger, we bid it welcome. For it is welcome indeed. Always.

Bespoke Kegler's

2011-02-11T15:14:00.000-08:00

Friday. Last one before yet another over-nighter to London, the Arsenal v. Barca match-up the impetus, though the job interview opportunities failed to pan out, sadly. Still, there is Cyprus. Country #35 (or 36 if you count landing in KL) and some new stories. Plus Twelfth Night and throw in a jaunt to Iceland too. And all in a matter of days that seems unreal, in a particularly strange way from this food court at the shopping center where you are about to go bowling (of all things).

Ah, the loneliness, at times. Remember that BNS look-a-like from Bell, the calm before another round of draft that will lead who knows where? It is going to be a good time away, I think. Time to reflect, and even chance encounters with two girls who have been on your mind these past four years. Wow time is marching on, eh? Or so it seems. What decisions will have been made by the 32nd, I wonder. Amazing the possibilities. For now, just have a good night. And come what may.

Remembering the right philosophy

2011-01-28T11:30:00.000-08:00

Train-ing slowly through the Maritimes on a lazy sunny Friday afternoon, leading to inevitable reflections on the second half of the year, and career. A week in from the resume and cover letter flurry, and just one response thus far (in the negative) from maybe the weakest of the 4. Slightly ominous, perhaps. But not all that devastating. Funny how thoughts can change a bit once you get into actually looking at things like the job postings in more detail. There is a concern about not becoming a document monkey working uncontrollable hours at another's whim, given the alternatives.

Some good, surprising meetings this week in terms of bonus and development opportunities make the status quo a bit more attractive than previously thought. Foolish in some ways to throw that completely away if you can avoid it. And so is there a potential KIMEP compromise in the works?

The more that idea turns over in the mind, the more appealing it looks. So we wait on a finicky government's approval of a new llb and notice again around the end of March. But it's the "Why Not" philosophy, and you have to wonder if things are just not lining up hilariously in this line for that reason. And the possibilities of either returning or making a publishing foray toward the Ph.D leave you in an open-ended spot.

Still some time to sort thoughts out - 60 days for other interviews to come through, and to see about SD (who, it is worth recalling, will be around next year as well). Time too for Cyprus and some frank conversations under the Northern Lights and a restoration on the Thames as always.. Time will show what is to come. And it has not let you down yet.

"Thro' Each Nerve the Rapture Dart..."

2011-01-25T11:39:00.000-08:00

Happy 252nd, my old friend, as we mark another year. This is always one of those days that sparks thoughts and images of the road. This one's no different, after an excellent Haggis lunch at the Loose Cannon. There is something about that Talisker that is so majestic and smile-inducing and nostalgic. A year and a half on from Skye, it is nice to have paid the bills such that a new chapter is almost at hand to permit further roaming about the globe as required.

Funny as well how this date coincided last year with some post-Odyssey fundraiser ridiculousness from nowhere, and now this time around there seems to be another random potential option worth exploring. Whether anything arises remains to be seen, but it was certainly pleasing to receive the email Monday all the same. Must get in the right frame of mind for it.

Where have the hours of this day actually gone? Need to keep up the Rabbie Burns poetry review (the quote in the title from By Allan Stream), and perhaps give Grandmom and Dad a call before venturing out. I suppose popping by Stayner's is in order later, but not before a trip out on the "ocean" via ferry. With a wee half-pint in hand? Can the Teacher's be found? Depends on the closing time, it seems. And I'm not crossing the pedway until the end of the Blackpool and Ipswitch Town efforts!

C'mon you underdogs. Worthy victors for a Burns day, surely.

POSTSCRIPT: Damn, so the inevitable unfolds, and the powerhouses prevail. What can you do? I have some Glenfiddich and Highland 12, but not feeling the trip out in the cold nor solo for another round of Haggis. Just another moment pushing on toward the edges. Fair enough. I'll sip the remainder of the Scotch with a reading of Doctor Hornbook and Tam up by the statue instead. That seems as fitting. Looking back, that served you well in '09, and so hopefully again...

Almaty or Sonipat?

2011-01-23T16:11:00.000-08:00

Another slow weekend, but perhaps a productive one given the hilarious nature of the emails and attachments sent off to the Far East today. A back-up plan if there ever was one, although the more this ridiculousness is turned over in the mind, the more it actually appeals and makes some uncommon sense long-term. The differences between the two approaches in the recent cover letters (academic v. practice) amusing to say the least, but what is interesting is that neither are really untrue. The different ways your life may go, and all that.

There are now 6 separate potential entry points for the second half of 2011 - 6 unknown individuals (and hopefully groups of individuals) who will take the time to glance at scraps of paper with your name on them and possibly direct the potential future. A fishing expedition if ever there was one to be sure, powered by that incomparable invention of the world wide web. I just hope the hook is baited well enough to reach the next level. The lecturing option may be a stretch too far due to the absence of a doctorate or publications (fascinating to see tonight the adverts for Fiji, Henan, Bahamas, Egypt, and Nigeria with such extensive requirements). But who can say? The ideal is just to have a few hopes/options outstanding by the time you land in Cyprus, so the Mediterranean can again serve as a backdrop to consider the momentous questions.

All so wondrous strange. I'll admit that the hilarity of announcing such an unconventional move forms a large part of the appeal of today's missives. And it doesn't really matter to what end, or to what purpose. The end is in the ability to move, and to experience the "new".

And so to wrap up on that theme, a link to a decent article worth preserving - "The Point is beside the Point." I like the reflections on the "glorious contingency" that is human life, and Darwin's "ennobled" connection backward in time. An argument very nicely put, I think.

The Unbearable Madness of Cover Letters

2011-01-20T13:18:00.000-08:00

So the first forays into the market have been electronically sent directly on. After waiting two days in vain for either of the recruitment places to respond, another search revealed the actual firms and so just as well, it would seem. Now if the past is any guide, your luck should mean that marks the beginning of the end of it, as two is already above the usual application quota. But it has been a number of years since the drafting of such banal jargon that it may not be as simple as that. The drafting of the cover letter particularly amusing, but what can you do but follow the process and await the verdict? The goal at this stage is really to land one in-person meeting while in London, I think. From there...

The clock ticks on, and another work day of DSM and the like complete. Most productive in the sense that these forms got finalized thanks to the faulty click of the confusing website submission. All of which is fine, except maybe that needlessly ridiculous typo of the name in the covering email! Oh my. Let's see what flows from such madness.

Cyceland

2011-01-16T08:01:00.000-08:00

And thus another February trip to Europe is booked.

Departure on the 14th echoing the classic trek with BNS of 2002 (can it have been 9 full years?), with the promise of witnessing live the best football on the planet, scheduled visits to European islands on opposite ends of the continent, and the possibility of key interviews. It seems a turning point of a trip, now that the new year has arrived with its openings. Nothing to suggest any changes to the timeline that jumped out as an epiphany on the ocean-front wanderings last weekend. Just keep the momentum moving forward.

An additional thought to note for this Sunday, as you contemplate another run on the treadmill and the difficulties in getting focused to do the work in front of you. On Politics and Boredom, by Sam Rocha: "What is boredom but loneliness, alienation, lovelessness, and the desire for something to occupy the time in a way that puts those stark realities at a distance?" As one of the commentators noted, yep this post is true. Amazing how so many strangers can share your exact same thoughts, at times.

So, May 27 of 2011?

2011-01-08T13:39:00.000-08:00

Looking back, it seems it was as far back as mid-June 2008 when the plan for the glorious extended summer of 2009 crystallized, and the eventual date of departure was first plucked out of the distant calendar. Now a week into the new year - and having pondered things back and forth awhile, through to today's further staring at the ocean and consideration of timetables for future proceedings and the like - I think we may have the inklings of another date of dates. May 27.

I like the symmetry of the number, (although extending one week to June 3 would be fine as well, I suppose). I like the potential for both a February London trip to lay the ground work, a potential early April conference in Banff, and perhaps a week in the Cuban sun to reflect, as was done in Tulum.

And most of all, I like honouring the legacy of June 5, and leaving the opportunity open for a gem of a Krapp's tape for the 32nd, rather than sitting around waiting for August. Surely the room can be sublet into a new year, and even if not...

Must get to the gym before it closes, but I like how this inspiration has emerged, abruptly and surely. I can see it standing the test of time. Looking forward (that cursed expression) to seeing how it plays out.

The Native Hue of Resolutions

2010-12-30T08:22:00.000-08:00

Ah, yes. So it is that time again - year end. And this time trying, in its final moments, to fill out the time as to finalize the case for the maximum feasible bonus. Shameless, but there you have the priorities. Just be sure to follow through on what's unrecorded on the 2nd.

It is day 364 of the year, an opportunity to get a bit nostalgic as well. Looking back through previous postings on the eves/morns of 2006, 07, 08, 09, and 10, it is hard not to smile. 'Tis the reason why keeping track of such instant thoughts and feelings is so worthwhile - the way it seems to freeze time and memories even as they normally prove so fleeting.

It is also a day for resolutions, which have been building in the mind in the last month. Not that these will be easy ones to keep, but perhaps there is value at least in writing them down (or so saith the Mail). Struck out mostly in 2006 when the list was longer, but the more recent resolutions have seen better luck - South America and Africa both touched in 2008, the Camino conquered in 2009, and - though not expressly said - the ancient loan paid down faster than expected through the year now gone. Not a year of many posts, but those that did register (which I've just skimmed anew) remain timely reminders and add colour to the long road taken to arrive at this point. You owe the bank nothing, McMahon. That's an accomplishment worth repeating.

Which opens up possibilities for the year upcoming, of course. First, let's put two straight-forward goals for the first half (before the 6th tape on the 32nd) on the table: the marathon, and the novel. Ambitious, to be sure, but doable, especially as a decent enough start has already been made on each. I like the boldness.

That leaves the second-half, larger and more "impactful". Much may depend on how any February travel plans get divvied up, with the possibility of starting something new in Cuba versus a return to Europe to atone for past mistakes. January planning should be most interesting in this regard, I would think.

Regardless of how that plays out, though, the city looming largest, as long foretold, must be London. As Ms. Oliva so sweetly puts it in the email exchange of just today, "Will you travel in 2011? unbelievable! ahahah! You are a really traveller, always walking around the world (I'm so jealous!!). It's a very good thing if you go to life in London". I so agree, and couldn't express it any better girl. Walking around the world indeed, and what better home than the capital. Whether it is to serve as a base for wandering further afield, hopefully as far as Yang, and/or just to refresh the career in general, there is a sense that the first part of '11 is sure to be spent in exploration and consideration of options back to the magical Thames. In some real ways, my head is already there - the when and the where the more intriguing questions.

Well, that is all. A merry new year (come and gone) to ye. 2011 to be an epic one, grander still than 2009? Here's hoping. Or further, here's to fucking just making it happen. Champagne toasts tonight to a' that. And may good luck go with thee.

"Quantity of the Oblivion"

2010-12-14T14:17:00.000-08:00

Now he wanted the most comfortable bed that could be had, and a woman, preferably one without a mustache, and finally a quantity of the oblivion, the escape from self, that can never be found in a woman’s arms but only in good strong drink.

- Rushdie, Enchantress of Florence

Sweet words, most excellently written, and true. A long weekend of recovering, but now a few days into the last full week of the 2010 working year and the tasks have almost been completed as ever. Still need to finalize the marking, but so that always goes. This weekend perhaps? Or something to while away the time over the break. What matter?

Seems sometimes like the next seeking out of oblivion is a long time into the future until it comes. We shall see. Just get through this week and mark the hours and defeat boredom in its glory, and then let the organizing of the office, room, possessions, and the mind all begin to sort themselves out as you continue anew down that long road to freedom.

The days and nights do grow shorter, and thanks be for that.

Beguiling

2010-12-10T10:02:00.000-08:00

My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile
The tedious day with sleep.
[Player King to Player Queen in Hamlet III:2]

Another Christmas party anon. Early talks setting up the investor account, and good talk with K. about the state of things there as well. Some time to breathe seems good medicine, and important to know of her unforgiven/unforgotten thoughts on your petty reactions to the seriousness of violations down in Peru. Clarity will come with time, I think. In the interim, funny I thought I had mentioned earlier the recent notable Wednesday eve that suggests other new year possibilities worth considering. And even if that email goes forever unanswered, as other messages in other directions before it, there shall be other avenues, surely.

The time is short on this posting as you wait any moment for a call that the car is downstairs for the trip to see the Greek and other cranks. But worth noting the other phone meeting of the day on depreciation, (followed by the interruption about the lack of formulae in the AA compliance) which leaves you only ever more convinced that these are not the types of issues you want to be concerning yourself year after year. How things shake out in the end for 2011 will be entertaining to watch. It should be a year of less planning and more spontaneity. Unlike the eve of 2009, when that change was more uncertain but became very predictable in its conception by the time of initial departure, this time I think it is likely that there shall be more one-way tickets and less fixed ideas.

As for tonight, then, perhaps the last of the parties out of this office that have been entertaining and marked various states of disillusionment, despair, and hilarity. Sweet, leave me here awhile, to make just enough to send me on my way. But no longer. Perhaps an update later, perhaps not. We shall see what merriment and foolishness is to be revealed...

Northern Lights

2010-11-28T23:18:00.000-08:00

Well, that was a weekend, two consecutive nights ou on a rip, plus a bonus Nick the Greek afternoon "to boot". Still reeling, and not sure just what to attribute the sickness in my stomach too. Excess words no doubt, and an inability to be where you are not, doing what you would rather.

But some good madness in celebration, and if there is an emptiness it only came closer to the end, in the recovery. Not sure how to deal with it except to close your eyes a bit and wait some weeks until 2011 begins. And then fatefully, the script may just get written.

Or not, which is okay too. You have to pass through a number of additional nights here in this room, alone, and so it could be worse at that. I do know that nine months from now is the last possible date, and the possibility of sooner is there as well. A sense a compromise post-32, but we'll have to wait on the time.

Hopefully it eases things as it usually can be counted on to do. Even tonight, once some progress got made, you see how it moves to heal. So, if you can hold out for the Northern Lights in Icelandia and somehow make that work, then that will worth considering. It is not that far away, after all.

How nice it will be to truly walk away, a minimum left in boxes. It is that you must keep in mind above all, to get you through.

Oh, and one last thing...

2010-11-16T16:39:00.000-08:00

No matter how you look at it, doesn't it always come back to LONDON?

What You Want (and other unknowns)

2010-11-16T15:54:00.000-08:00

A most difficult of questions. A "know thyself" query at its heart. What do you want? Do you even have the courage to know, to ask, to think that deeply and trust the responses that do come back. Do you care what others think, and are those thoughts in your way? Is the problem overthinking, or superficial thinking? Are you ready to cast off what you has got you to this point, now that the burden of debt has been overcome?

Say this for K, she makes you think these things. And truthfully, you may be running out of time to grasp at such opportunities, which will not present themselves. Why are things different than June 2008, when you had built up the thought of a Parisian switch? Chastened, or just more aware of the realities? Scared, perhaps, of the frankness and bluntness of the potential freedom?

Note the question marks. Do other people know so clearly what they want? Maybe. Whereas before you might have asked that rhetorically with an air of superiority and condescention. Now it is just with an air of saddeness, jealousy, maybe a bit of pain at your own foolishness you have guarded closely for so long. "Too personal," she jokes. But strikes right to the heart of it.

Ironic as well, today, the news from that random from Michael's a year on from your return. Strangely appropriate way to put the absurdity of your actions in stark relief, and remind you as the clock ticks forward. The world proving again that it often has a pitch perfect sense of humour.

So what then? A revisiting of the old assumptions, I think. A change to the old thoughts of travel as escape, toward travel as redemption? Maybe too strong a word, that last one, but the word "toward", as opposed to away, is the right theme. Remember looking in the mirror on the route down and thinking, What are you doing? Would love to go back to that guy and tell him what he should have done, how stupid he was going to be... It is easy to avoid vulnerability, all the more especially in cases where you absolutely need to confront it.

You have some weeks to pound away the last of 2010, and then wish Trace well and rub the silver dollar. From there the options are as broad as you would wish to make them, and they depend on you. There is time to finalize the second half of the first book, colour it in with the new experiences and emotions now apparent. The outlines are there, let the plot run as it will.

But there is now, undeniably, a tiredness about the solo escapades. You have lived with yourself a long time, there will be few surprises no matter how far you run now. The better step surely is a clean break from this, now made possible by the end of the debt and what can come in the early part of the new year. Do it right, and you can always return if necessary. But there are things that need doing that should no longer be postponed, and you know basically what to do.

So just figure it out, and make it happen then. It is in you to do it.

The Pointless

2010-11-13T10:26:00.000-08:00

So, here you are again. Again. In a moment I will look back through to see if you can pinpoint the date last in this place in Barranco, but then again you know it close enough. Rum and Coke Friday last night turned ridiculous, which was probably inevitable at some point along this road. Whatever. It ends when it does. As the loan did - and you shouldn´t forget that congratulations are due for that.

So a new journey begins. Better that than uncertainty and indecisiveness and just feeling of ineptitude. Fuck. What are you going to do. At least with the new start will be new stories as well, and that me gusto. Mucho.

Amazing how the world turns. I remember the last time vividly, after that extraordinary opening salvo in SA, from Isla del Sol to the Inca trail to the last night in Lima with the randoms and that weird dude. And thinking enviously that it would be worth trying to orchestrate the life to live it in places like this. Maybe it is just the fact of being two years older (more likely it is on account of the additional places of the world witnessed) but it is funny to see these things with new eyes. And feel the opposite, in a way. Perhaps due to the company, but the conversations now bore me and I don´t know what I´m going to do about it. How funny the dancing of that blonde guy on the floor with the Peruvian, and how funny the desire for the threesome from the other, who are just lounging around the hostel today recovering, no doubt anticipating another night.

Does it mean London, and its pleasures? Or something in the middle of nowhere, that will probably leave you feeling just as empty... Alas is the word. I just don´t know... (Meanwhile, the crazy girl next door can´t remember her pin number and is worried about how to next extract money. Oh my. "What would you do in my situation?" Kill myself, probably.)

Turns out it is RLS´s birthday today. Maybe writing is a solution, if a partial one. You certainly have new fodder for the opening as a result of this, and perhaps if you focus you can parlay it into more.

Sweet life indeed, Yang, sweet life. I may have to join you in China just because, or otherwise I am going to have to figure out something. Regardless, it will be fun to just... bolt. What was that Twain line? "Light out".

Let´s.

All Saint's Eve

2010-10-31T21:48:00.000-07:00

10 months, do you think? Nothing I can see to change that at this stage, although still reasonable questions as to what then. The idea of escape, of something new entirely, of rejuvenation - just too powerful a thought on long sleepless nights such as this. Wondering what to do and why you are doing it.

Only 5 nights after this before an early wake-up call sends you back to Hali international and Newark en route to the South Pacific. So much has happened since leaving Lima in August 08, yet so much remains the same. Desires and dilemmas, that is. Ever always.

Should get back to the efforts of sleep. Another ridiculous hearing tomorrow on questionable subject matter over which you care not. So many hours, need to get back to putting them toward living. New Year's resolutions this year should be good ones, as long as you can honour them. Meanwhile, another week-long date in some foreign clime with KBJ. What's that, number 4? 5, I think. Progress since the June arrival. Looking forward to the "no planning" nature of this one. Should be entertaining at least.

And of course looking forward, as goes the constant refrain, to what is to happen, next.

Some of the Best Days You Can Spend on the Planet

2010-09-18T18:30:00.000-07:00

..or so I described the Inka Trail to Larsen over stayner's pints without thinking about 30 hours ago. Funny seeing him today with his baby tied to his stomach today, knowing his love of it and being so happy not to be in such a situation. Happy? Maybe the wrong word. For as you looked into the sun at the sad spectacle of Canadian University Football on display and waited impatiently for the clock to tick through the 60 minutes, it was tough to consider yourself really "happy". It is just a sense of not feeling satisfied, of not feeling comfortable, of not being able to bask in what is normal or expected. The glow of the double Baileys having passed, fatigue setting in, wondering why custom has you do the things you do. The boredom of it all, even given the finite number of minutes of existence.

Here you sit, or lie, some cheezies at hand and some gin, whatever you would like. But the lay-out of the party upstairs appeals to you not. Too much sameness of former days now gone, if that makes sense. How quickly too. Looking back, you marvel at how some of that time went, and in what an alcoholic haze there was in which it was lost. A failure to commit and a failure of confidence, that permeates, until (he thinks) you get a new start. Breathe in, breathe out, move on. Start over.

There's a knowingness, a certainty, that this will happen. The way Nasser just said, "I think I will go." The abruptness of decisions. That sense of apartness, strongly felt, inescapable. Yet so indefinite (the waiting I mean). Hard to get the motivation to not just wait out the days and save the money, and hard at the same time not to waste the money to get over the boredom. Lacking discipline in my loneliness. Wandering if this girl above the others will be able to make it any better.

At least you got the start on the writing out of the way. I wonder what they will think on it. Need to write up Maddy anyway, just for the hell of it. There's always an ability to sequel that out in the off-chance of the unexpected. You really wish you could recapture that ephoric state, the shimmering ocean on the walk home at 5AM having completed the 25,000 words. That was a moment. So that was something out of the ordinary that indicates the promise of more to come in the next 350 odd days.

Before it happens for real.

The Water that is Past (and that which is to come)

2010-08-24T20:41:00.000-07:00

Time continues its silent forward creeping. Trips of the summer that was 2010 now past, and left you are with memories of the English countryside at dawn, setting out from the Swan at Grasmere, of the Church on a Sunday for England v. Germany and a bizarre ramble down an unknown section of the Thames, of a courtyard palace hostel in Madrid and glimpse of San Sebastian's beaches, of wine and coke fused drunken tango in the wee hours in the Pamplona bars, of Pepe and Gaudi and Ramblas and Iniesta heroics, of self-timer cannonballs and scaring another family away from the pool, of Alabama Jacks and the No Name Pub, of navy guys at the drag show and no snivelling, of biking in awful heat to see where Hemingway wrote and the pleasure of a sunset cruise, of $5 bills found miraculously in a hotel room bible after the previous night's discussions, of midnight Atlantic ocean swimming, and the Park Central robes. And such.

Now toying with the idea of locking in another trip, one more purchase with this valuable of VISAs. It has been an inevitable sword hanging over this day, waiting to fall, ever since the "unavailable" comment and the confirmation (as if it were needed) that your presence would be welcome. Indeed, you had decided pretty well at the cottage over the weekend, that 6 months would be too long to wait, and that another trip to look forward to is required. Taking the bus out to pick up the guide book only served to further the commitment, as the printout of the reservation will serve as a nice bookmark. And keep you in memory.

For what else is there - you could maybe spend the money on something else, but what? You enjoy her company and the next 10 weeks will be a slog anyway without the carrot of Lima. You need to take the measure of things if truly you are going to make the long-anticipated clean break from all this in 365 days, now a mere 12 months, all in this very room where 5 months have passed so rapidly. Almost as if things are speeding up, and that itself dictates action. Go and do these things while there is time, and means. At the worst you can check out the Nazca lines and ponder the imponderable. Or surf some sanddunes.

So there you go. Some more words scattered in the past. For as the Guardian writer nicely quoted in the random Man City v. Liverpool mbm: "a mill cannot grind with the water that is past." I like that. As I like being reminded of Glasgow gravestones, and the discovery of psalm 103:15/16: "As for man, his days are as grass: as a flower of the field so he flourisheth, For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone, and the place thereof shall know it no more." Not necessarily the same message, but it leaves me with the same taste in my mouth. So off to that continental site and another keying in of the correct numbers. You have done well, fair piece of plastic. May your replacement serve as true. At least you can look back upon these words, remember the sentiments, and judge retroactively whether the course chosen was a wise one. Something tells me that trips to Peru must always be just so.

And so the wheel spins again...

加油 [jiā yóu]

2010-06-08T12:15:00.000-07:00

老板一再叮嘱大家加油干 -"The boss kept urging people to make more effort."

快, 加油！ - Come on, come on!

Ah, yes. Another June 8th. Nicely done by Yang, reminding me of the famed Chinese urging-on that hasn't been spoken at pitched lungs for awhile. How lovely the greeting from Monkey Jane Zeng earlier and the thoughts of the road through southern China to the rooftop of the world. How hard not to think of the possibilities that exist in foreign lands, when you have had the benefit these past few days of such a lovely visit from Iceland. To think that was less than one year ago, at that! Oh my. What might be in store in this next celestial circumnavigation? Who can say?

Enjoy, my friend. Another day in the life. How quickly it doth pass. And how humorously. Indeed.

"On the Boat of Dust, Suspended"

2010-05-18T21:06:00.000-07:00

There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world... So said Sagan, and he was not wrong. Longing still for more exploration around the pale blue dot, and the days tick closer. The question only: will you get motivated to do something worthwhile in the meantime, to light thee on thy way to Mantua?

Day upon day of this wandering gets you down...

2010-04-12T18:26:00.000-07:00

And so. Safely moved in to the new place, with new wireless connection and new television/couch for the same old shows. Helpful in triggering renewed enthusiasm for the gym and a start again at healthy eating, although the old predictable lethargy remains. Even amidst the blue skies and ever warmer sun.

Awhile since sending an update here, flipping through old emails and posts, popping down to NYC for another brief spin through the lovely confines of Manhattan and songs of Broadway. Farwell to Raymond Walker after Koe's fabulous finish at the Brier. Magical reading from Alistair MacLeod. Farewell to C. after a too-prolongued time muddling through that bizarre situation, and surprising call-out from L. on St. Pat's that ended, disappointingly, as should have been expected, through to the cancelled film. And a typical Easter home.

Another month ticked off, further funds collected and debt repaid. Another 140 or so hours crossed off the list. The course finished and marking soon to be wrapped up. Good conversation with M. about Costa Rica and similar ambitions. European return for the bulls booked and organized ahead of a lazy August and buzy Fall.

As the clock ticks on, and plans far out into the future made soon after the return remain attractive, but there is a need to put them a bit out of mind for a time. Focus on the present. Focus on improvement. Focus on stories. Focus on 'newness' - new routines and new interests. Not sure what yet, but let's do a few things prior to June and then enjoy the summer as expected. You've earned it. Soon the loan will be gone, and freedom to take flight - for real this time - will be secured. Don't waste the year in between just waiting. Eh?

A mile and a half on a bus takes a long time...

I'm much more stronger now

2010-03-07T18:54:00.000-08:00

Poor calls for NL, but we shall see later in the weekend what might come. Good patchwork with Yang and good to see Roy and remember the Watertown dunken donuts etc...

Much wondering about what to do, L. and C. and otherwise. Great to see R. Walker though, he is a legend, and the Shoe Shop. The point for the story - is there any line that could have worked to pick up that blonde?

Who seeks, and will not take when once 't is offer'd...

2010-03-04T14:33:00.000-08:00

Things fall apart, yet things come together, Harry Carey. The improv night adding just another element to the multi-purpose room, and doesn't someone else just go and recommend that the Friday become substantial. And so it shall. E'en as we sail away another day, and spend money on such things we care not for. And look at left hands for rings we wish not to see, just out of principle. Alas.

NORFOLK
Stay, my lord,
And let your reason with your choler question
What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills
Requires slow pace at first:

Oh Friday. You love me and I love you and so we rejoice. What is yet to come of this sane madness? "It's not impossible".

And -

Pom. This is not yet an Alexandrian feast.
Ant. It ripens towards it. Strike the vessels, ho!
Here is to Caesar!
Caes. I could well forbear't.
It's monstrous labour, when I wash my brain,
And it grows fouler.

Caes. What would you more? Pompey, good night. good brother,
Let me request you off; our graver business
Frowns at this levity. Gentle lords, let's part;
You see we have burnt our cheeks; strong Enobarb
Is weaker than the wine, and mine own tongue
Splits what it speaks; the wild disguise hath almost
Antick'd us all. What needs more words? Good night.
Good Antony, your hand.

Sugar

2010-03-02T20:23:00.000-08:00

Ah, free drink tickets. And the surprising use of the cab chit. And random encounter with age-old assistants, and their stories of plumber husbands and their 7 and 2 year olds questioning, while the other white jacketed lady brings it back - standup comedian style - to the original childish question, why? Heh. The gray dress appearing interesting after shunning the cab until the dropping of the boyfriend reference, as was our lady of the no bread for lent until the matter of a daughter, inevitably, is mentioned. Makes you wonder how to escape, even as you miss the comfort, and lack the staying power.

Yet, in all, a more promising night than was forecast, you know. Mocking of any attempt at the Louis treize cocktail, due to the honour you have had in prior occasion to drink it. And further St. Patty's practice with the Guinness, of course.

From smashed plates accidentally at Cut to the SBTS to the pale man's speech citing William Arthur Ward, unknown author of inspirational maxims, to the grand expectation of New York City following the approval. It seems a stretch too far to get her back over from the isle of ice, given the prices, alas. But Homi will be in town, so perhaps the Bulls can be planned in any event, and I like the idea of boarding another flight (finally) before the month is out, particularly at another's expense. It's no derby, but it must do.

I'm sure that guy tonight played A.J.'s once upon a time, perhaps even one night when you were there. And so there was a sense, sitting there tonight amidst the mini-burgers, that we have both grown old...

What is that which makes you answer when you are called?

2010-02-25T09:55:00.000-08:00

"I realize that I have a past to break with - an accumulation of inertia, waste, wrong, foolishness, rot, junk. A great need of clarification of mindfulness, or rather of "no mind". A return to genuine practice, right effort. Need to push on to the great doubt..."

-Thomas Merton

Great little excerpt in reading Wurlitzer's Hard Travel to Sacred Places, and re-imagining the recently taken trips through Thailand and Cambodia. Funny how there really is no substitute for seeing things yourself when it comes to appreciating the observations of others, and how discrete memories can flood back so randomly without much effort.

The last month has seen a lot of recent musing and brooding over past and future Asian wanderings, actually, all leading back to at least one consistent conclusion: last summer's initial foray into the largest continent was necessary in order to help in planning the next, assumed-to-be broader and deeper exploration. There is much to be said in favour of this immersion by experience.

Much learned from fellow travelers and fond places were discovered not obvious from glancing at the map a world away. Much better appreciation for the management of expenses, interconnections, VISA procedures, and how to dealing with isolation and attachment. The importance of avoiding an overly-established itinerary, appropriate for a survey approach, but which only demonstrated how brief even a number of weeks are when you are on the move.
And so, the resolution to buy only the one-way plane ticket for the next odyssey. And to embody the following mindset, also from Merton, on departure:

I go with a completely open mind. I hope without special illusions. My hope is simply to enjoy the long journey, profit by it, learn, change, perhaps find something or someone who will help me advance in my own spiritual quest. I am not starting out with a firm plan never to return or with an absolute determination to return at all costs. I do feel there is not much for me here at the moment and that I need to be open to lots of new possibilities. I hope I shall be!

Yes, that puts it about right. Big victory for Canada over Russia last night, return to the boys at the Capital Sports Club and the news of a past shuffleboard competitor's demise at the hands of cancer. It is later than you think. Try not to lose sight of the opportunities in these next 18 months as you focus on the next glorious escape, eh?

The Passion

2010-02-14T19:28:00.000-08:00

First Skyping tonight, with KBJ, and interesting (ah, how common that word) discussions about the nature of debts and work and the like. The very blunt perspective on the cost of the degrees on the wall and whether they are worth it when you consider that they provide access to a job that's not fully loved. It's more complicated then that, of course, and certainly those years and fulfillment of those dreams are not regretted, but the commentary lingers all the same. The overall thoughts about just what you are doing, how long you should wait, where you might go. Just as the plan for 18 months out appears magically solid, there is a nagging sense that this may yet be too much to sit through. If you count the days - 555 says the handy google app, or about 800,000 minutes. Oh my.

I do think another 10-12 months is required, whatever the ultimate choice, if only to give Halifax a farewell tour, keep at the loan, give the course one more good effort, as well as this fall's hearing. From there? I am pleased with the way things have unfolded. I am pleased with the way that the decisions, as they always do, seem to arise independently, as if orchestrated properly. I can sense the freedom, and I'm comfortable knowing what I wish to do is out there. It will be nice to move in April and then see where the summer leads...

Sad-making

2010-02-04T07:17:00.000-08:00

Meant to post this on the man's passing. The more I reflect on it, the more potent it seems:

"Everything everybody does is so--I don't know--not wrong, or even mean, or even stupid, necessarily. But just so tiny and meaningless--and sad-making. And the worst part is, if you go bohemian or something crazy like that, you're conforming just as much as everybody else, only in a different way." -Salinger, Franny and Zooey

How to non-conform? Surely the dreams of a Yangshuo return, overland to Tibet, and Passage into India that haunt these cold nights qualify? More so than picking between expensive restaurants (although there are times for that too, I suppose...)

When will I see you again?

2010-01-25T21:15:00.000-08:00

How funny was that call tonight, answered of course by young L at first. Appropriate for Robert Burns's 251... a night that proceeded to elements of a wonderful celebration, including J. Blue at the end over a conversation on the state of play of things. But strangely, maybe appropriately, no real talk of the subject of mind, except the apt reference to "volatility". Yes, admittedly there is that strangeness, partly what contributes to the overall fence-sitting. But gazing among the Martinis tonight as well, is it really all that troublesome? In a word, no. Surely there are ways to pursue the course that make sense, amidst the seeming enthusiasm and opportunity? Sunday at least can be a start.

An appropriate way to end this Rabbie night. So to close with the new lines of this year, prior to a final review of previous postings through the blog years. I well remeber our man of "dreaming laughter" those many years ago in George Square. Tonight, we did well to find the Contented with Litttle" piece, as well as indulge in the walk home to another annual reading of beloved Tam. Ride on, young man, ov'r the ills of life victorious!

My worst word is welcome, and welcome again! And with such mirth and gud humour in my pouch, I bid thee a loving good night!

Yellios

2010-01-24T09:32:00.000-08:00

And the sun sprang from the eastern waters... Ah, yes. An unlikely bender of a few days, that. From the Shakespeare By The Sea meeting to the Seahorse and Toothy Moose and a lost/broken phone, to a resolutes lunch over pints and then a wine-enthused Kentucky Fried Chicken feast at the Palace of Nestor, to a solitary walk home shortened by the fortuitous cab and chit.

For, despite the exhaustion, there was the comfort being sought, randomly provided. Yes, random, for the Arkansas wedding to circumvent the blood test, young Louis, the predictable kareoke crowd at Michaels, the lovely gin, and late-night Young Avenue wanderings toward a night hilariously summarized as frustrating and unmemorable.

Because the world is so damn fun, so incredibly unpredictable and good. A wonderful week from that lecture referred to and reflected on below, with the ensuing days only emphasizing the inherent value of remaining bounded by this city. And so, the wondering over the wandering continues... as you also reflect on how to deal with this newest complication that has appeared of nowhere. So funny.

Walks in the Snow

2010-01-20T19:11:00.000-08:00

Funny how certain thoughts hit at certain times in certain ways. A successful week, the petroleum promotions hearing intense in terms of hours but nicely wrapped up and a nice diversion from the usual electricity fare. But more so, an enjoyable class, students still showing up, and tonight I think you provided the first decent lecture. Fun, actually. And amazing how quickly you can get comfortable doing something new, even in a short period. The camino, of course, proved that.

So cue the thoughts on the stroll home, given the salary and this opportunity and the potential flexibility available at the office, even over the longer term if desired. Perhaps the move from here is into something more (at least semi) permanent?

Hard knowing what you want, when everything is in such a state of flux. Are you really thinking about running away? Is 1/3 of the next few years on the road enough? Oh, I wonder. As the snow falls softly on this fair city. Of "home"? Perhaps.

On tradition and nostalgia and change

2010-01-05T20:11:00.000-08:00

Slow mid-morning trudge into work, reflecting, especially after forgetting the books that spurred the walk. But a good day finally planning out the course, and at this point - as the mind wanders as it does after midnight - quite keen to get it started. So long it seems since the email arrived on the blackberry to this very room. Still hard to conceive of that extraordinary bit of timing. Tomorrow should be a nice easy introduction (for you and them).

Back as well to the gym, amazing the fall off in strength, but no doubting a return to form. Indeed the new year as seen from the window tonight, with its promise of writing and watching some great storytelling courtesy of Mad Men, the doctor, and soon others shines bright. Inevitably, as this is simply what we do, what we live for.

Just as the setting for the personal stories needs its changing too, and if is not going to be in the traditional life arc, at least for now, let it be the escape of the moving road that provides the comfort. It has before, it will again, when you are ready. But again, as another slow dawning realization from the six months gone, the next one should be altogether less pre-planned. Not just in terms of dates, but in structure and route overall. That's a concept that has crept into recent thinking and should be left to ferment. It should also follow naturally if there is no fixed time for a return.

So begins a new year and with it wonderfully deceptive, fresh-seeming philosophy. Don't let the thoughts run too far ahead. It remains true as you sighed earlier this day, though, that there comes a point where the joys of tradition and nostalgia begin to lose their flavour, and you just end up feeling old. There should be new careers in you yet, to match racing time. 'Twill be exciting to discover what they might be...

The Original Test for Indecency

2010-01-04T11:39:00.000-08:00

From Para 76 in the dissent, R. v. Labaye, the "factors to consider":

In contrast to our colleagues, we propose to continue applying the original test for indecency, which focusses on a contextual analysis of the impugned acts and incorporates the concept of harm as a significant, but not determinative,
factor to consider in establishing the applicable level of tolerance. Whether or not harm is sustained is merely one of several indicators or contextual factors that make it possible to gauge the degree of tolerance of the Canadian community. In our view, all the contextual factors must be considered in every case. The application of this test to the facts of the case at bar leads to the conclusion that the impugned acts were indecent and that the appellant’s establishment was a common bawdy‑house within the meaning of s. 210(1) Cr. C.

Blue Moon

2009-12-31T19:37:00.000-08:00

Or so... Great anti-climactic new year night after a turn through Cheers 24 hours earlier and some old episodes of the Doctor to keep you company on this cold night.

Blue moon in the skies, so pretty earlier on the horizon, large and red and ever-close.

Will have to wait until 2028 for the next blue moon. Wonder where that will be.

Thanks, 2009. It was fun, and enlightening. I'm sure 2010 will hold similar wonder and majesty, as we work toward maximum freedom and laughter. 12 minutes. Isn't such relaxing wonderful? Should make the levees tomorrow all the more fun. Keep fit and have fun.

el Camino de la Vida

2009-12-29T12:47:00.000-08:00

What an email to receive yesterday, upon the happy rejuvenation of the blackberry. None other than long lost Laura, of Generator fame and the famous "how do you say, I would like to kiss with you" line of 2002 I have told so oft. The cosmic jokes of this spectacular universe truly have no end.

Another sign to pursue the Spanish language and upcoming San Fermin trip, I suppose. But it does leave you shaking your head in wonder. Leafing through that journal, it is amazing the spirit and memories that ooze so easily from the old rambling notes - the recording of moments in real time even as they slip away, capturing the boisterous and pure freedom of youth so neatly.

Now it is a somewhat wiser, certainly better educated version of yourself that nevertheless longs for the absurdity and potential of the much loved open road. But always the same strange circling back to consistent concepts, in different times and circumstances - the philosophies of heightened randomness and maximum laughter.

So it shall be again, soon.

Hence it comes...

2009-12-17T15:43:00.000-08:00

Hence it comes that play and the society of women, war, and high posts, are so sought after...

Hence it comes that men so much love noise and stir...

Hence it comes that the pleasure of solitude is incomprehensible...

So saith Pascal in his thinkings. But will you say what object has he in all this? Deceiving himself by the fancy that he will be happy to win what he would not have as a gift on condition of not playing.

Men spend their time in following a ball or a hare; it is the pleasure even of kings.

----

Wondrous. These nights of swift discovery and boundless conjecture, so simply begun. Too too much conversation over the staggering sameness of experiences with the newborn children, or the gossip amidst the lawyers over bills and harassment, or the foolishness of the frozen turkey bought by a girlfriend and the question of cooking.

Yes, yes, it is difficult to have returned and often there is wondering about what I am doing back at this. Especially amidst this... these stories to which I feel no part and speak not. When did you shave, two asked me today. Sparking only the thought of when shall the beard return.

I now have a spreadsheet that holds a tentative answer. Around the 32nd birthday, it claims, all debts shall be paid. We shall track the progress closely. We shall monitor the upcoming Hemingway adventure and the predictions associated in accord with its verdict on the future. Tarry not, but keep learning, too. There is so much, ever so much, in ancient pensees, that screams so truthfully.

Time for a cold walk.

Musings on the eve of Z's third

2009-12-15T19:52:00.000-08:00

"I used to be much too keen to change everything, I think, as if no one else had ever tried before."

So reads an apt line from an above-average Sci-Fi piece tonight. Just crossing off days as the calendar year draws to an end. It really is in the return from the travel experiment that you can fully grasp the thoughts triggered. The truth unveiled in a way that speaks loudly in silent thoughts. Thinking back to those few moments in which what was next wasn't more welcome than the present, even soaked in that freedom. And the recognition of that elusiveness making it all the more powerful.

Good thoughts, looking forward to... Wait, find another expression... shall enjoy talking it over more these holidays with the family, as you brace for a year or two more before the past amounts are properly paid and J future claims control of the cash flow once more. Okay if the time is used wisely, to work the body, delve into the new world of a language, and finally pick up the pad and pen for real. I have come around very strongly to this new-fashioned reality, even knowing how these visions get tinkered.

But at the root of all it's about "want". There may be mystery in the ceaseless exploration quests and toxic indulgences that lead to joyous rapture and lost visions, but long ago you lost your seriousness and need to know the whys. Rather, it all lies in the going.

Still got a lot of leaving left to do. Ah. Funny what you remember. What comes back. What you choose to record. The giggling girls brought home by the bouncer with assault charge pending. The video of the octopus and coconut shell. The failure to learn the days of the week in the country of residence. All the other mundane yet fascinating sport and political gossip of the hour.

What a spectacle it all is. And, almost impossibly, there's really such an infinity more, given the small scope of individual experience (as reminded by J-N odd bickerings)... So prepare thyself, sir. And then, begone again.

Conflict

2009-12-04T13:10:00.000-08:00

Remember this time last year? How quickly 364 days can pass. How do you feel about just throwing on a suit, and saying fuck it and have a few drinks? Freedom as the highest and best weapon of choice. And shrug off the rest. La-dee-da.

Pourquoi Pas? For the running with the bulls and the year of Hemingway next year is on. Throw Havana in the mix as well. Cuban cigars and the street music. That's the way we roll, bitch. Nice. And sort through these tedious issues of potential/intellectual/perceived conflict like a Gordion night - with audacity and ruthlessness and delight.

Ah yes, delight. TFI, that 14.28% of the week that holds a little extra aura and mystique. So, on y va. After all, how often do you get to see live accordion?

Monks and Monkeys

2009-11-28T13:49:00.000-08:00

Another interesting evening this past Thursday with random middle-aged Newf, who has been to Rio for Carnivale, and now sometimes regrets marriage. All of which is fine, of course, but stuff like that, combined with hungover Fridays in which work seems ridiculous amidst the sketchy haze of thoughts and props left on your floor and 12 hours of rest are required and everything screams escape while the hours tick by via Cantona highlights and KFC.

Already, too. Two months since the return, it seems so long since the travels, but that's because two months is a long time. You know?

Time to roll out, with dreams of orange-clad monks and ping pong beer and what a real departure might feel like...

Dauntless minds v. Fortune's yoke

2009-11-20T13:10:00.001-08:00

Friday, oh Friday, and what to do. The fog of earlier rolling in and out in deep whites and blues have left the day for a night of neon yellows and dark black. The car lights move along the highway and the reflections shimmer in the harbour below. Yet the hour that often holds such inspiration, inspires not.

A strange melancholy, then. The growing recognition of the past catching up. The Camino already walked and countries long pursued already backpacked, and yet the search continues. Wherefore? There is, at least, a strange Fu Manchu mask that stares back out from the window, a questioning/smirking reflection. There is, at least, the 4-faced Buddha and hand along the steel edge of the pane. Reminders.

KING LEWIS XI
Why, say, fair queen, whence springs this deep despair?

QUEEN MARGARET
From such a cause as fills mine eyes with tears
And stops my tongue, while heart is drown'd in cares.

KING LEWIS XI
Whate'er it be, be thou still like thyself,
And sit thee by our side:
Yield not thy neck
To fortune's yoke, but let thy dauntless mind
Still ride in triumph over all mischance.
Be plain, Queen Margaret, and tell thy grief;
It shall be eased, if France can yield relief.

Not such deep despair, exactly. But a nostlagic, creeping lament. That the brief time must yield to work as well as fun. And you cannot fly off whene'er you wish.

Alas. And yet, no doubt time's wheel will pull you back out onto the right side of things, and soon. Already looking forward to it.

196

2009-11-14T20:15:00.000-08:00

Calories in a pint of Guinness, or so says the sign. You wonder why you are here, or anywhere. Who these people are and why they follow such customs to amuse themselves so.

Trying to write, in such contexts, for these others seems obtuse. Yet there is Bruce Guthro, putting words to song about the ridiculous "Come to life" slogan. How he pulls off "where wild meets serene" I don't know. And yet.

As the ruby-lipped St. John's mother walks by, to straighten your tie, as the band sets up to begin again. As you ponder your eternal question, which is simply: why? Take what you have learned. But then what, the suit with the Guinness at the Old Triangle asks, as the music begins to play.

I still don't know. I have better ideas. But I don't yet know.

Bachelor Day

2009-11-11T09:24:00.000-08:00

Or so Remembrance Day is called in China - 11/11, and fitting given the extra 16.97 million lads v. lassies in that strangely magnificent place.

Back from the last trip of 2009, fantastic little jaunt to old New York. Ideas for 2010 still bouncing around. These are the years, not just the years but perhaps some of the best. Lots to figure out, but as mentioned to Martha at Mickey's, there is a comfort in having time.

En route now to see Mr. Inch and spend the afternoon over drinks with Nick the Greek. Then later drinks with mystery woman Laura as you explore ways to best bide the time until the next encounter with Flemm.

It feels like Friday, a bit. Great little holiday, this. Thanks Grandad. As once again we look forward to what happens, next.

Cafe de la Paix

2009-10-30T15:59:00.000-07:00

How many times have I walked by that without knowing? The 9th, eh? Oh my.

What a choice for the day, brought on as it was by the random, late-scheduled meeting; no curling, but surprise four hundred; lack of Halloween interest; and the call of the sea and Service.

There are lines from the poems I must recite here, and bizarre plays beyond belief to record. Like curveball, side-pocket; and Hulse to the dug-out. And "freedom's most a fraud" and the wizened Spanish man at the Cafe and nothing else to do but buy another drink and the shielding serene from sordid fate and daring the desert lone and my last seeing be the moon, my last sound the sea.

Glorious. Is there a more beautiful word? We doubt it. Acadia executive director off to Yangshuo and Glaswegian 25 years in Canada who finds it too busy so "must away" and the non-alcoholic Caesar. "Dear strangers who we see everywhere, we do not know you but we have nicknames for you and you are awesome."

Tell me this sad world is not beautiful. Tell me the Third Guinness is not the best. Tell me ... Heh. Tell me about the 8/4 volunteering plan.

Tell me how you have planned your escape.

The "Show Cause" Clause

2009-10-29T15:19:00.000-07:00

Thinking today about a number of things, amidst memoranda of understanding and closings and upcoming meetings of import. Such as:

-how wonderfully blue the ocean looks from the large windows in our reception;
-how general competence is always king, all the more-so on technical and mundane matters;
-how Internet memes prove the wonderful specialness of a species;
-how eagerness to please results in a simple cutting of a cheque three weeks later; and
-how diverse the world's opportunities can be.

Keeping the head down and working away in the short term. Dreaming the all-too necessary dreams for the future. For It Is Later Than You Think. No need to show cause on that one.

So Play Her Off, Keyboard Cat.

random things, slightly depressing (and one not)

2009-10-26T17:24:00.000-07:00

1. Second NY Giants loss in a row.
2. Two more years of loan payments.
3. Ever-recurring laundry.
4. Re-runs, seen and un-seen.
5. (Predictably) hazy memories.
6. ...

In short, routines that are inescapable and obvious. Oh, those non-linear patterns, broken by travel that results in a returning back. Even though you know, when out there, that it is not the final answer. But it is also closer.

So what to do? First, "Don't believe your own realizations." Then time, basically a month on, to let the last 6 months go, too, I think. Which means the beard must go. Only to begin again, on another great dream. On what's next.

Fun while it lasted, my friend. Can't wait for your return.

Trois Cent

2009-10-20T16:22:00.000-07:00

An interesting milestone, as we sit in the shadow of the white hart sign at the fireside, following the first eggplant sandwich in awhile and in between the first 2 tommy's uncles.

21 days, since the return. Settling in well, but there is also the natural funk, the soft desolation of a return to beginnings. Adapting to the office chair for hours on end, in search of motivation that sometimes comes not. And eavesdropping on conversations of travel that are oh so familiar as to be laughable - just different characters and locations but same themes.

Fairly distracting, actually, until that last bit, about a Brooks column interpreting the view that "the goal in life is to find out what is unique about yourself" as a Homeric ideal of heroism, versus the excessive contextualism of today. Good.

Sweet nostalgia. Recalling today marvellous Clifton, and sensing the path that leads from S. to C. to K. And on. Another sign, perhaps, of the wheel. Where you stand outside the path predictable. Maybe the lesson is that it is not on the road, but on your return from it, where you can expect to learn what is true and must be done.

I really don't know what's next, as I sit here with the Paradox Men begun on the table. As I wander toward the ocean with the sun setting through the clouds on another day. As you walk again into Maps and Ducks and see Carnivale staring you down, even as you look for excuses to avoid it.

I do know I like these conversations over Martinis. How hard it is, not to just keep going...

The Brooding Sea

2009-10-16T13:06:00.000-07:00

I like the sea when it is moody, when it is overcast and gray and raining and you feel the force of the air on your face.

I like Fridays, even when they don't mark the end but rather the start of some long working days. The second beer going down smoothly.

Here we go again.

Exacerbating the Nonsense

2009-10-15T19:23:00.000-07:00

Wait for the coincidence to happen seems the soundest advice, in this world of madness and tears. I confess it has been a bit of a hard thud in returning, though not unexpected. NYC shortly, and the fun of another plane ride and stroll through the village will be liberating. Longer term though, I still see no more needs than this simple window and the dreams of the road. Where no one else's work gets done but thine own. That dream was lived once, so why not again? With Spanish consumption and the penning of a course and novel in the interim.

Pourquoi pas indeed. Do it, and do it, and do it, and do it again. As they sing.

The Wheel Turns Once More

2009-10-12T12:08:00.000-07:00

"It's my belief that history is a wheel. 'Inconstancy is my very essence,' says the wheel. Rise up on my spokes if you like but don't complain when you're cast back down into the depths. Good times pass away, but then so do the bad. Mutability is our tragedy, but it's also our hope. The worst of time, like the best, are always passing away."

-Boethius (Anicius Manlius Severinus)

So here we are, back again. Following the even 50 posts of the 180 days abroad at the other place, it is time to return to the anonymity of this little space, to record the sporadic humdrum musings that occur as inevitable voyages to come are planned within these office walls.

The time on the road was indeed happy, the lessons great, the people captivating, and the random women beautiful, in all their mystery. You take a long time to think about where you are and find yourself happily right where you must be. We do not change, though we learn and experience and age. A comforting thought, I suppose, when looked at in the right light.

The familiar tasks begin anew - the marking of days on a spare pad of empty white paper, the dreams of flights and calculation of itineraries, the ridiculously bold ideas. Words as ever providing their inspiration:

"If you have the chance the best time to visit is Carnival. There is nothing in
the whole wide world like Carnival in Rio."

It may yet prove a too-expensive way and time to visit. But then, when have such constraints hindered the traveler in search of uniquely spirited moments? The flickering water in the harbour below smiles on this lovely day. Back to work I must, for the moment. Day-dreaming ever-always of what is next. Even as, surely, the epic nature of this start to 2010 cannot be denied.

I love these trips that seem to decide themselves. Will February 11 be another date of longing? I do hope so.

Last few (for a wee while)

2009-03-17T05:16:00.000-07:00

Ah, Saint Pat. Here again, at last, and yet all of a sudden at one and the same time. As in 2007, it arrives with a slight cold from too much practice. And difficulty sleeping before as always. Strange to be out of the pub, and truth be told I could use a pint before this random Chamber luncheon, in which the suit is required. We grow up, apparently. But the lack of work today, in favour of watching the old favourite Advertisements. For posterity, and to get it out of the way early, here we are:

Snails - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQ5s6PLB44U&feature=related
Dancing Man - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=69MpLiYhsXw
Tom Crean - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eXf93CEI4t0
Hurler - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZoPM4RwOCW8
Swimmer - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hCAD-5MOhEs
And, perhaps best, Ahab - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zcdDg30VBgo&feature=related

For yes, this is a long, farewell post, as the new digs (more sanitized and open to a broader public) have been established for the 6 month voyage at http://richeyespoorhands.blogspot.com/. I may be back here on occasion when anonymity is required, or later, upon the return, with larger reflections and secret dreams aplenty for what's next. But for now we say goodbye, and not with a whimper, but a bang.

No notebook this time but the electronic one, and so the day shall (hopefully) be somewhat recorded. Here are the notes taken from earlier this morning, upon arrival at the Old Triangle at 6:50AM to wait in line, only to land the preferred seats right where Stransky and I were, three long years ago. Remember when, eh? Good emails back and forth to date. How far time has brought us forward.

You wonder why, a bit, most days aren't like today, can't be like today, setting the alarm to wake up and drink Guinness. But such queries only lead to confirmation of the original maxim, that good things do indeed come to those prepared to wait for them. So it is with favourite days too. Even Fridays, once every seven, can hold something special by virtue of their slight exclusivity. Time spent with good people more valuable. Or, sweet things grown common losing their dear delight, as Shakespeare elegantly put it. Yes.

Good luck today. I am sure it is only partly required. We shall see what happens. Notes on the order of consumption/quotes to follow. The end is in the beginning. And yet we go on... Of course we do. What other choice is there?

---

#1 - Old Triangle - 7:07 AM
"There is something about drinking this pint this early that just seems so correct."

"We had a tradition of a few of us meeting here at 7AM for a few years. But it looks like this year, I'm the only one that made it. But I'm not leaving!"

#2 - Old Triangle - 7:39 AM

Phil joins for a quick pint, the band opens with Galway Shawl, followed by Wild Mountain Thyme, and two of the hardest requests out of the way from the gate. Top it off with the bonus shot of Bailey's - when dropped in the coffee it makes the new sunken Irish Dorey (with hole, filled with Baileys, etc...).

"It is not even 8AM and I've already eaten my first shot glass."

Seats sadly given up to the guys behind, who question how one could go into work today. The long game, my friends. And the inflatable hammer across the bar which I thought might have been mine, confirmed as an ebay purchase. Oh this modern world in which we live.

"Sue asked if I had the first Guinness of the day. No, I said, but first to finish!"

(to be continued)

#3 - Victory Arms / Chamber of Commerce dinner - 12:05

Asking and receiving permission to have the Guinness escorted across the lobby of the Lord Nelson. Magic.

#4 - Victory Arms / Chamber of Commerce dinner - 12:44

Slowly falling in love with waitresses which is another tradition renewed. Trying to get others invovled, but not takers. Perhaps it's best if it's just me anyway. Maybe that is saying something!

Then discussing schmoozing, Alas we find our niches in the world. And roll with them.
"They respect you." "Maybe, but they don't think highly of you."

"At the Chamber, we take a long term view on the major issues of the day." But no mention of Saint Patrick.

#5 - Victory Arms - 1:26PM

"How do I get after this Guinness without getting foam on my nose?"
"Grow a shorter nose."

#6 - Victory Arms - 2:20PM

The attire is out and the suit is replaced. Absolutely beautiful day, no jacket required.

"For the people would not be debarred from gazing upon the darling hero of England. I had their huzzas before, Nelson said to Captain Hardy, now I have their hearts."

#6a - Split Crow - Jameson on the rocks - 4:00PM
Highly disappointed not to see Guinness on tap. We were out quickly.

#7 - O'Carroll's - 4:20ish PM

Gertie and Shannon from the morning proivde the seats. Cara coming soon, and Guinness flowing.

#8 - O'Carroll's - 5:04PM

Cheers to your friends for not coming. Yeah, but they're really good friends. Sorry, I guess?

...

And that is where the memo texting runs out. There was much more to report, new friends added, Nasser and Abdullah joining us to Stayner's, the Scot, the return to Old Triangle and some Jimmy Sweeney, and a final duck into the Pogue. All in all, probably close to 15 or so for the day, and an impressive 6:50AM start to 1:14AM finish. I am, today, thoroughly satisfied and exhausted and looking forward to bed as early as possible.

More success. And with it evidence that Halifax truly is and will be home, after all this time.

Red-wing Blackbird

2009-03-12T18:59:00.000-07:00

So. Guinness 4 of 09. And we could go on, I think. September may require Ireland after all. But don't get too far ahead. It is these moments. That shot by Inch. The line from Magnus. Life is good, find a girl. I think that's an appropriate description.

Just fucking look at Blair Stransky's old double. I'm joining them, for G5. Yes is the word.

I would thou wouldst be...

2009-02-27T17:57:00.000-08:00

CLOWN.
Give me thy hand. I will swear to the Prince thou art as
honest a true fellow as any is in Bohemia.

SHEPHERD.
You may say it, but not swear it.

CLOWN.
Not swear it, now I am a gentleman? Let boors and franklins
say it: I'll swear it.

SHEPHERD.
How if it be false, son?

CLOWN.
If it be ne'er so false, a true gentleman may swear it in
the behalf of his friend. And I'll swear to the Prince thou art a
tall fellow of thy hands and that thou wilt not be drunk; but I
know thou art no tall fellow of thy hands and that thou wilt be
drunk. But I'll swear it; and I would thou wouldst be a tall
fellow of thy hands.

AUTOLYCUS.
I will prove so, sir, to my power.

CLOWN.
Ay, by any means, prove a tall fellow. If I do not wonder
how thou dar'st venture to be drunk not being a tall fellow,
trust me not. Hark! the kings and the princes, our kindred, are
going to see the Queen's picture. Come, follow us; we'll be thy
good masters.

Exeunt

'Tis done. And the incredible appearing refund appears to allow even more savings and opportunities for the odyssey. Halifax to Rome, Munchen to Halifax over 6 months - Oktoberfest, as foreseen spontaneously on the beaches of Tulum. Now we just need to sort out the rest of September post-Latvia. What an itinerary for 6 months, the thinking has made it so. Funny how life works. For Yol bilen kervana katilmaz. He who knows the road does not join the caravan.

"Why do we drink alcohol? ... Because when we are drunk, everything is crazy, everything is adventure..." Classic quote. Me gusto. Mexico a revelation, spanish and tango to be learned, more ridiculous trips to be orchestrated as the days roll on. And on.

afdadfsa

What's Next

2009-02-10T03:34:00.000-08:00

Process of clearing the final major hurdle begun yesternight, successfully. There may even be unthoughtof options available, which could fit with the current schedule. Good to think on, especially while lying in the Mexican sun. Who knows, but confirmation once again that this is the necessary path. Signapore email as well, and as with Istanbul, you know that will prove a riotous event. Must off to catch the bus. Outstanding.

I Make Not, But Forsee

2009-02-06T14:53:00.000-08:00

ALEXAS
Soothsayer!

Soothsayer
Your will?

CHARMIAN
Is this the man? Is't you, sir, that know things?

Soothsayer
In nature's infinite book of secrecy
A little I can read.

ALEXAS
Show him your hand.

Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS
Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough
Cleopatra's health to drink.

CHARMIAN
Good sir, give me good fortune.

Soothsayer
I make not, but foresee.

CHARMIAN
Pray, then, foresee me one.

Soothsayer
You shall be yet far fairer than you are.

CHARMIAN
He means in flesh.

IRAS
No, you shall paint when you are old.

CHARMIAN
Wrinkles forbid!

ALEXAS
Vex not his prescience; be attentive.

CHARMIAN
Hush!

Soothsayer
You shall be more beloving than beloved.

CHARMIAN
I had rather heat my liver with drinking.

As would I, were it not for the semi self-discipline imposed for these few remaining months, as the urge to spend and acquire is quelled in favour of the savings.

Ridiculous deductions but hilarious error - will it hold? I hope at least that next month's announcement does not trigger what would otherwise go undiscovered. But we must do what we must do. I don't think it is your duty to call attention to it.

Magical Emirates work last night, the stage set for wonder Five inside a year. Outstanding. Someday those photos will hang in a future office.

Not much more to add from Chapters this evening. Just waiting for the time to pass. Sunday could be the day for the initial warning, I think. Something to ponder for the treadmill tomorrow. We'll see. It will be nice when you are above the Atlantic once again. A year from the cigar at Malta.

Burns 250

2009-01-25T15:58:00.000-08:00

Thou greybeard, old Wisdom! may boast of thy treasures;

Give me with young Folly to live;

I grant thee thy calm-blooded, time-settled pleasures,

But Folly has raptures to give.

Ah, Mr. Burns, how right thou surely art. Raptures aplenty, and this year off we go for real to seek them out across the broad world. The 48 page passport under request and who knows what stamps will lie within five years hence. Here's to many.

Typing now in the Dairy Queen after another excellent jog on ye old treadmill, and a weekend in which further foundations are laid for the plans to come. (Girl in sandals just walked by, you have to love it).

Out myself to type the remainder of this at the foot of Rabbie himself. 10 years ago, it was the statue in Glasgow and George Square. Where next? (as Loch Lomond comes on the Ipod...)

Alas not a wreath in the Halifax cold beneath our man. A wonderful statue. Respects to be paid. Another item on the list of things to do in Halifax before leaving to ensure luck on the voyage crossed off. Soon to take the final wee dram(s) for a few weeks at "home" from the Highland Park 12. Long may you run, Rabbie, and long may the drunkards toast to your Immortal Memory.

I would out-night you, did no body come

2009-01-09T16:17:00.000-08:00

LORENZO
The moon shines bright: in such a night as this,
When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees
And they did make no noise, in such a night
Troilus methinks mounted the Troyan walls
And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents,
Where Cressid lay that night.

JESSICA
In such a night
Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself
And ran dismay'd away.

LORENZO
In such a night
Stood Dido with a willow in her hand
Upon the wild sea banks and waft her love
To come again to Carthage.

JESSICA
In such a night
Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs
That did renew old Aeson.

LORENZO
In such a night
Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew
And with an unthrift love did run from Venice
As far as Belmont.

JESSICA
In such a night
Did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well,
Stealing her soul with many vows of faith
And ne'er a true one.

LORENZO
In such a night
Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew,
Slander her love, and he forgave it her.

JESSICA
I would out-night you, did no body come;
But, hark, I hear the footing of a man.

Enter STEPHANO

Such a night as this, as we ready for Spanish lesson #4 and then a quiet walk homeward on the water with the music. After a day of bootless labour on wind RFP responses and Tier 2 training I retaineth not. Tomorrow should prove equally absurd, and yet perhaps offers time enough to strike up the deal sheet. You must do some work tomorrow on this, as the clock continues to tick. Plans for Italy, France, Spain, England, India, Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos, and Indonesia continue, ever so wonderfully. The gradual honing of the strategy until the successful conclusion. I think a highly warranted plan has been hatched, we wait only in hope that the prices hold until they can be purchased, that the refund magically comes through one fine February morning, and that all else runs on time. These be the days, passing quickly over facebook baby photos to dreams of land o'er yonder.

You can do whatever you like. Walk on.

Trip we, after the night's shade

2009-01-02T12:47:00.000-08:00

OBERON
Sound, music! Come, my queen, take hands with me,
And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be.
Now thou and I are new in amity,
And will to-morrow midnight solemnly
Dance in Duke Theseus' house triumphantly,
And bless it to all fair prosperity:
There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be
Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity.

PUCK
Fairy king, attend, and mark:
I do hear the morning lark.

OBERON
Then, my queen, in silence sad,
Trip we after the night's shade:
We the globe can compass soon,
Swifter than the wandering moon.

TITANIA
Come, my lord, and in our flight
Tell me how it came this night
That I sleeping here was found
With these mortals on the ground.

Exeunt

Not much new to report - day 2 into the new year. The sad postponement of the levees means that you may well mark the first 31 full days of this grand new 2009 without recourse to the drink. A fair enough ambition, as without doubt there will be ample in the time's ahead. If the Giants can win their way to Tampa, February 1 would be an appropriate date to get back.

A weekend of work ahead - left to do by the slacking of this lovely Friday. Unsure of where to take it, probably across for a movie and burger and walk home with the new Ipod toy. Yes, walking. How great it will be to get out there on the road, with only the destination ahead. Mexican and Italian holidays to organize in the mean time, as well as VISAs and passports and the heartache of such applications. It is going to be a busy January. One of feverish calm before the coming, magical storm that will be 2009.

Oh, and as a bookmark, note this, read for the first time today. In wonder indeed.

Touch will make you Cry

2009-01-01T11:36:00.000-08:00

Winter is beautiful, but bed is better, says Toad. Make that home. Although hard to exchange for anything the pleasure of crashing a random new year party with the glass head and sandal-wearing Saudi. The beauty of a girl leading you out into a mystifying endgame in this most epic of storms. So many absurd stories, captured beautifully by the discovery of the sweet potato in Marlo's jacket's inside pocket. I can't wait for storytime, he says. I win. How can we not, with so much to offer, if capped tragically by the rest on Clive's bottom bunk. The vow to not make ridiculous thefts in the new year foiled hours in with the wearing of the leather jacket into the car bound for somewhere. Morning discussions over chest-jumping turtles, sauntering, and on. I call shenanigans. Silver dollar rubbed, oysters zapped, and so we welcome in with good cheer the grand old year of two thousand and nine. Make it count. And before you leave, write that letter.

the ghost right out

2008-12-31T23:58:00.000-08:00

Barefoot wine opened with the corkscrew. Random glass head filled with smoke from the apple shisha. Chivas and ice and dreams of South Africa 2010. Why not? I see the winter wonderland out this random victoria road window now - with the randomest collection of classic people below, ready to ring in what's next. Down to 9 minutes. Make 2009 worthy of the caviar dreams you have held it in. June 5 2004 held its unique place in the realm of anticipation. But now all depends on May 8 2009 and working backwards. Think of that. If you are alive, this time, I know you'll be on that fucking flight. Ultraya 09 baby. Buen Camino. Just remember how you got there. Let that be the only resolution.

Here is the Rainbow I've been praying for

2008-12-28T16:19:00.000-08:00

Well, not quite, but now an oh-so-soon 13 weeks, one of them in the Yucatan. Potential to line-up Amalfi, the Camino all but certain (with harmonica!), Emirates and Haymarket ready to welcome the bearded pilgrim back to civilization in style.

Both the gym and spanish lessons to begin in earnest on the morrow. 2008 ending as good as it was enjoyed, it must be said. 2009 has much to aspire to, but the odds are in its favour. Stay the course. As the one Times and Transcript quote of the day you have read this year states - "Do not turn away when you are so near the goal."

Indeed. One more on the 31st, before this beloved year receives its deserved send-off.

Sweets Grown Common Lose Their Dear Delight

2008-12-19T08:29:00.000-08:00

My love is strengthen'd, though more weak in seeming;
I love not less, though less the show appear:
That love is merchandized whose rich esteeming
The owner's tongue doth publish every where.

Our love was new and then but in the spring
When I was wont to greet it with my lays,
As Philomel in summer's front doth sing
And stops her pipe in growth of riper days:

Not that the summer is less pleasant now
Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
But that wild music burthens every bough
And sweets grown common lose their dear delight.

Therefore like her I sometime hold my tongue,
Because I would not dull you with my song.

Ah, Sonnet 102, retrieved based on a legal-based dictionary.com inquiry into the scope of "merchandise". Philomel, weaver and nightingale; the hypercatalectic (11) lines 1 and 3; the enjambment of line 9; in all, an amazing work of art, and a nice counterpoint of ponderance from the rest of the holiday work.

That which shall be over, of course, disgarded in favour of rough roads and open skies, monsoons and manic seeking. As in Winterson's Atlas, the freedom in simply walking away. The heavier the burden, the greater the sense of liberation, the broader the expanse.

Friday's are always like this. Even when, as now, it marks not a brief halt to the daily work that must be done, there is that element of depth. It is what we seek out there, on the road. More Fridays. Although, as the Bard reminds above, not too much.

#9 Barrington

2008-12-18T15:43:00.000-08:00

Fascinating little session today, as the work continues without end and recognition of the quality prompts further thoughts about the extent of the 2009 plan. Might it be worth thinking about a 9/12 option. And it is, even though it would make the camino less a walk into the unknown. But there are opportunities being left behind under current machinations, and holiday thoughts on that score are not out of line. (He thinks as he exits the bus to pick up season 2 of quantum leap...)

Yesterday

2008-12-16T14:07:00.000-08:00

Churchill's again, in Saint John. How long ago was it? April oh-seven? Seems a decade. Just finished the oysters, Stella going down smooth, Guinness and prime melt surely on the way. Another way-stop, finishing up this leg of the career. A frustrating one (in that the end result won't be as desired), but not one that's of concern. For the road ahead holds a Yucatan February, and then profound release down the Camino way, which looms ever grander and more central in the 2009 visions. We wait to see if the first detour will take us down toward Napoli - the paradise of those in a state of intoxicated forgetfulness. Or so said Goethe.

Yes, he thinks as he smiles and looks around and as this Prime Melt arrives. This is not the life for me at 30. And so the elaborate deception and proceedings in place to change it. In all the thinking to come in Spain - let us cast the consciousness back, at one point, to this.

It is solved by walking

2008-12-12T16:40:00.000-08:00

Hilariously - "on battery power" - and THEN! Light!

Still think now that the 9pm ferry is the one, despite Sweeney and Roach.

"When one realizes that his life is worthless he either commits suicide or travels." -Edward Dahlberg

"It's a battered old suitcase and a hotel someplace and a wound that will never heal." -Tom Waits

And this is my favorite and as good a justification of leaving as any:

"Without new experiences, something inside of us sleeps. The sleeper must awaken." - Frank Herbert

"No Yesterdays on the Road"

2008-12-12T16:16:00.000-08:00

Who is William Least Heat Moon?

After taking the advice (is this the first Rum and Root Beer friday? Likely. And shit, he says, as the Irish guy we like walks in with his guitar... We back-up.)

Ok, after taking our own counsel against Chives and for the downpour, printing the quotes and heading out into the rain, we are here at the end of the table reading quotes and drying off. But now probably going to wait for one song (and so a second Guinness?) while we type some of these out:

"There is no moment of delight in any pilgrimage like the beginning of it." -Charles Dudley Warner

"One main factor in the upward trend of animal life has been the power of wandering." -Alfred North Whitehead

"Traveling is like flirting with life. It's like saying, 'I would stay and love you, but I have to go; this is my station.". -Lisa St. Aubin de Teran

"I haven't been everywhere, but it's on my list.". -Susan Sontag

FUCK - THERE'S MORE but the Celtic Corner power has gone out!! SO -

Worthy of a post all its own, a revelation of another quote so fundamental as to be long lasting:

"The open road is a beckoning, a strangeness, a place where man can lose himself... What you've done becomes the judge of what you're going to do - especially in other people's minds. When you're traveling, you are what you are right there and then. People don't have your past to hold against you. NYOTR."

This Top-Proud Fellow

2008-12-12T13:28:00.000-08:00

BUCKINGHAM
This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I
Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best
Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book
Outworths a noble's blood.

NORFOLK
What, are you chafed?
Ask God for temperance; that's the appliance only
Which your disease requires.

BUCKINGHAM
I read in's looks
Matter against me; and his eye reviled
Me, as his abject object: at this instant
He bores me with some trick: he's gone to the king;
I'll follow and outstare him.

NORFOLK
Stay, my lord,
And let your reason with your choler question
What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills
Requires slow pace at first: anger is like
A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way,
Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England
Can advise me like you: be to yourself
As you would to your friend.

BUCKINGHAM
I'll to the king;
And from a mouth of honour quite cry down
This Ipswich fellow's insolence; or proclaim
There's difference in no persons.

NORFOLK
Be advised;
Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot
That it do singe yourself: we may outrun,
By violent swiftness, that which we run at,
And lose by over-running. Know you not,
The fire that mounts the liquor til run o'er,
In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be advised:
I say again, there is no English soul
More stronger to direct you than yourself,
If with the sap of reason you would quench,
Or but allay, the fire of passion.

BUCKINGHAM
Sir, I am thankful to you; and I'll go along
By your prescription: but this top-proud fellow,
Whom from the flow of gall I name not but
From sincere motions, by intelligence,
And proofs as clear as founts in July when
We see each grain of gravel, I do know
To be corrupt and treasonous.

Back again a week on - free drinks ahead, but fearing still the need to pay a proper penance for last week's indulgence. Perhaps the reputation is firm and so little new damage has been incurred. Yet it is the uncertainty of the specific action/accusation that lies uneasily. Alas, in such a world with its complexities, to be worried by matters as trivial as unremembered revels. In seeking out the Shakes, I came across this gem from one Douglas Engelbart that gets quickly to the rub: “The rate at which a person can mature is directly proportional to the embarrassment he can tolerate.”

Remember how the mere repeating of this quote prompted a look at the photos and the realization that a night of knowing frowns may be best avoided. Fraser (at least his camera) was the one to capture the sadly perfect shot for posterity. It is one to print and save for laughs in future climes.

So, the choice is made. Scotia Square for the ingredients, a run across the harbour on the boat and back, and then some festing with Nasser and co. Where that leads, who might say, but it has the merits of anonymous enjoyment, reflection, and rejoicing. What more is there?

Look up at the closeness of the full moon and wonder.

And bookmark that moment out of tiredness today at noon, in discussing compliance CBL foolishness, when the mind reeled in its full confrontation with the why this one-consciousness/perspective philosophical debate. You could always stay. But that is another reason why you must go.

Those tumbling dice were cast awhile ago now, and there is no picking them back up.

Only Connect

2008-12-09T09:29:00.000-08:00

"Fractures well cured make us more strong." - George Herbert

The infinite capacity for self-deception. The longing. The possibility for new beginnings. The burden of responsibility in absolute freedom. Wandering off is the way back. (Jung and "individuation" as pilgrimage to joy?).

The clock of feet. Tick, tock, it beats, as the snow crunches underneath. And so far, survival, and recordings of dull eyes looking back that bespeak a challenge.

No Matter What

2008-12-07T13:17:00.000-08:00

"No matter what, you've got to believe in your destination baby."

Another day rolls by with little activity, a classic Premiership match with Villa taking it at the death, a NYG loss, and now BtDkyD.

Tales of the Camino last night - the Goose Game, the need to remain non-judgmental in the walking (and also in everything else for that matter, as hard as it can be), the potential for fraudsters who live off the pilgrims, "you must beer", "this is camino"

Oh my, tomorrow and beyond. The slowly awkward, difficult embarrassment and hidden humiliation. With no good answer to the quest or question of "why?". I wonder who will pose it. This time.

What Happens (Next)

2008-12-06T10:01:00.000-08:00

So, a mere 20 hours on, and there you have it. Another night unremembered, collossously (sp?) drunk, against your better counsel. Haven't had a night like that since, well, the fast ferry to Nuweiba. You can now look forward to a Monday at the office of awkwardness, and other random encounters too. It's fascinating in a sense, the one-sidedness of not knowing how you are perceived based on such antics. Based on unknown discussions and unknown actions. Whether there will be a Comstock-esq call to follow, for example. The emptiness of mind, the suicide of a night, the gradual unraveling of consequences. You think to yourself you'll avoid it but with the initial choices and after you hasten ever faster toward it. It is fascinating. The snapshots. You feel sometimes as though you could write pages on it.

Remember this, though, the quiet and security of this room. This new "home", a mattress, a closet, and a few bags of clothing and boxes of books. "Nasser? It's 2.". How even this is comforting, as a place to hide. Are you hiding? I don't know. But you need to think whether the British Visa is necessary - but even writing that I think it is, even if not used immediately. So more properly you need to think about what to do come May 10. Fortunately there's the Camino for a'that, and other conversations/reunions besides. Re-union. I never thought about that word like that before. I like that. I like that about this to - the shoving aside of conventionality involved in being so damn ridiculous. Yes, the sight can bring about ugly reprecussions (is there a concept of preprecussions?) but there it is, even if at the end there is nothing concrete to show for it, to replace it with, to say "here is my alternative" as if it were a true one.

I don't know. And because we don't know, we go on. I can't wait to see what happens next.

The higher Nilus swells, the more it promises (...)

2008-12-05T12:38:00.000-08:00

MARK ANTONY
[To OCTAVIUS CAESAR]
Thus do they, sir: they take
the flow o' the Nile
By certain scales i' the pyramid; they know,
By the height, the lowness, or the mean, if dearth
Or foison follow: the higher Nilus swells,
The more it promises: as it ebbs, the seedsman
Upon the slime and ooze scatters his grain,
And shortly comes to harvest.

LEPIDUS
You've strange serpents there.

MARK ANTONY
Ay, Lepidus.

LEPIDUS
Your serpent of Egypt is bred now of your mud by the
operation of your sun: so is your crocodile.

MARK ANTONY
They are so.

POMPEY
Sit,--and some wine! A health to Lepidus!

LEPIDUS
I am not so well as I should be, but I'll ne'er out.

TFI. Christmas party about to begin. The gin flowing nicely in these early stages, and with it a return to the traditional Friday reliance on Master Shakespeare seems apt. Recall this time last year, and so let's tread carefully around such land mines even as the hold over consciousness loosens in the coming hours. Ah yes.

What else? "It's been a long, long time coming, but I know, a change is gonna come." The countdown is now firmly on, at last. And with it the sadness that comes with any change, any departure, I suppose, but such is the way of the world. For I have stared long enough out these windows at the interior of the harbour, and long to set sail in the opposite direction. To renew, in a very real sense, the sensations and callings of that time five years ago when the end of law school approached and the world seemed limitless. So it does again, especially after such a year as this. Such a year of magical traveling as this. Oh oh oh. "Five years have past; five summers, with the length of five long winters! and again..." And the tears of it are wet.

Yes. Go join the fleeting cackle of celebrations. And enjoy the aspects of this life that you are shortly giving up. The future nights and days that you are losing...

In way of retro(pro)spect:

2008-12-04T16:48:00.000-08:00

"What does one learn in going around the world? ... You go to learn that the world is very large; that men in many and in most of things are very much alike; that like pursuits and thoughts are rife with mortals everywhere; that men who go in ships and those upon the land, that men who trade in stores and they who work in shops, that they who who minister to wants of earth and hopes that reach beyond the tomb are very much alike, most stardingly alike; that men are selfish after all; that all have goodness after all; that no one, of all that is bad or good, has any sure monopoly. The sun that shines on you at home comes forth to shine on all; the silver moon that you adore has just as silvery beams for us and all who live in foreign lands...

You learn in traveling round the world that gold is gold the whole world round, that silver lies in most men's thoughts, and all men work for pay, - for hearth and home and things to wear and feed upon. What else are we doing here?"

What else indeed...

Be Prepared to Stop

2008-12-01T19:10:00.000-08:00

Another day. (Another headache, another heartbreak.) Another day in the march toward... What would you call it?... freedom, redemption, the numinous, the road, what's next, what's necessary. And a momentous one, even if planned and executed as imagined, or better than imagined.

Consider, truly, you are really where you want(ed) to be - never back to the old apartment after the Holy Land. 11 Dewolfe. The freedom to choose BS. Old Peculiar. To finally put the (beautiful) face to RS after this time. And the difficulty in disuising the intended path from the investment banker turned math teacher turned promotioner.

"People show doubt too fuckin' much"

Is that too much to ask? Is that question ever asked with an expectation of a no? No predictions about the likelihood of JW..

"I felt like I was dressing a barbie doll. No adjustments necessary, gorgeous clothes, good bargain."

Thirsty for conversation. You need to start a new routine. The end is less than 4 months, less than 120 away. Long enough to be true.

(Bird,bird,bird.. Bird is the word.)

Ah December. Be prepared to start.

Non-Sense

2008-11-21T18:15:00.000-08:00

When you drink, says Inch, you tend to lose all sense. All sense of time, it's true, you say. No, all sense. Period. For people under the influence there is a struggle to maintain some sense, but you just avoid the struggle completely. I like that.

Also a comment, that the hat went out of style when Kennedy didn't wear one at the first inaugural. Interesting, whether true or not.

"Flight dreams" the exhibit tonight. Heh. Betraying the author's intent? 4 months perchance, on Victoria? And then. One bright morning, as the song goes? Oh Darling.

Memnon

2008-11-13T01:43:00.000-08:00

Charging Alison's camera phone here in the internet cafe outside the Memnon and just over from the Corniche and Mr. Hagab's small house from the shop. Egypt has required some cultural adaptation, a bit more disparity between economies and so a bit more hustle and offering of services (carriage? five!) and making the shopping an ordeal. But it will be a long time before you forget the site of the piles of dusty letters and guest books on the old desk in Mr. Hagab's place "beside the Mosque" and the unbelievable shisha transaction story. Going to be difficult to explain in facebook captions, to be sure. Just came from Elephantine island, guided to the gates of the ruins by Mustafa, and the return on the ferry next to the high school science teacher. There is a sense that you'll return here, when and how remains unknown, but certainly this trip - above others - has provided some background for future stories that need telling. There have been many lessons of coarse travel learned as preparation for the broader adventure, some captured in writing and some that still need to be distilled and turned over in the mind. The bottles of wine tonight should be wondrous, and then Luxor for the grand finale. Epic is most definitely the word. Hard to believe that tomorrow you'll have been one week in Egypt after the crossing. My oh my.