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Thursday, January 04, 2018

The Hairy Kneed Boy

I have booked my two month 'lifestyle break' from work. I will be off all of March and April. This was the light at the end of the tunnel getting me through the past year. Now, because it's the realms of reality rather than I'm anxious. I'm not anxious about bad stuff happening to me when I'm away. I don't worry about stuff like that. My anxiety is very much wrapped up in a wee dog faced boy child with hairy knees.

I am giving myself a good talking to with regards to this. I have projected a lot of stuff onto Ziggy over the years, worrying more about his welfare than my own because it's easier. The problem doesn't lie so much with leaving him, but the way my travel plans are going so far, I will be away for three weeks, back for a week and then gone for another four weeks. Can you imagine the hairy-kneed dog child?

Mummy is away and it is sad but...I will survive because I have my granny and the other dogs and I am in the countryside and it is Spring time now and everything smells alive. Oh look!!!! Mummy's home and she smells of sunshine and cocktails and she is so happy and I've missed her so much and...wait? What? Where are you going mummy? To Thailand, where the dogs have rabies!! But what did I do wrong? Why won't you stay with me? Mummmmmmyyyy.

And so on, and so forth, such like and what have you. Yes, I know. He is a dog, a hairy kneed dog and he will just accept whatever the day offers him and so, perhaps, should I.

Wednesday, January 03, 2018

Anarchy, Autonomy and Aliens

2017 was the year that I discovered I was an anarchist. Not a mohawk-wearing, pin through the nose, moshing type anarchist, just an honest to goodness "I have faith in human nature" type anarchist.

It was the book Shantaram that made me realise I've been an anarchist this whole time. A book that I started to read about 3 years ago and only finished when I moved back home. That doesn't mean it was a bad book, or difficult to read. I just find it harder settling myself down with a good book. Having said that, I read The Host by Stephenie Meyer and was unable to put it down. I am aware that the author became famous for her Twilight books, which I'm lead to believe is complete tripe, or at least the TV series based on the books are, but The Host was centred around a theme that was very interesting to me. It's set in a post-apocalyptic world where aliens (who are in fact parasites but referred to as 'souls') come down to Earth to take over human bodies as hosts for them to live a Utopian existence. The thing that fascinated me about the book was the altruistic nature of the 'souls'. They were unable to be dishonest, trust was implicit and Earth became a more ordered and peaceful world. Nobody hurt one another, laws were abided by and harmony was prevalent. But it didn't stop the fact that these 'souls' were parasites who used the bodies of humans to make this world possible. So the question is, who were the truly savage race? The humans who would use violence at any cost to protect themselves, or the aliens who felt themselves superior enough to take over the minds and bodies of an inferior race?

So throughout the book, I felt a lot of empathy for the alien, who in the end, found her loyalties with the humans who, despite not being 'perfect' at least understood the concept of autonomy. And, well, autonomy is very important, especially for an anarchist like me. What I've come to realise in the past few months, however, is that to be so rigidly attached to my autonomy can lead to a very isolating existence. Like the humans in The Host

Monday, January 01, 2018

Here We Go Again

So it's the start of a brand new year and I wonder why these things are so significant to us humans. Beginnings...endings. On paper, 2017 was a great year for me. But it was succestressful, meaning that, for every box ticked a little piece of my sanity was chipped away. I didn't blog for a long time. Generally that means that my words are directed somewhere else. For some other purpose.! The complexities of life never fail to amaze me. The abundance of unresolved stuff that we forever wade through. This time of year has a particular quality to the air...that of lonliness and disappointment. My eldest niece M has already pondered the concept that the idea of Christmas is better than actual Christmas. It's the excitement of possibilities and, when all the presents are open, the possibilities are no longer endless. With this realisation comes a certain ennui.

Sometimes I find it hard to express the hope in my writing. My words are often melancholic but...let me just share where my joy has been found this Christmas...

Boxing day with my two best nieces brimming over with festive mum and sister sitting in the kitchen. My nieces painting Dirt Bird's face like a clown and us 'adults' taking it in turns to be scary monsters and chasing the girls. Apparently my efforts were weak. At one point I was in "training" for scary monster duties but when I asked M how I did she said "Yeah, you did better. You're back in". E told Mel Monster, "When you catch me don't tickle me, just cuddle me." And it was all very lovely.

The focus for 2018 is to take time off work and see a little of the world. Let the world see me. I worked hard over the last few years and I will continue to work hard but I need adventures. I need my soul shook up and my eyes widened. I need to create some more memories and meet some more fantastic people whilst not forgetting to nurture my existing relationships. Basically, 2018 is the year in which I put into practice everything I have learned so far.

Monday, October 09, 2017

Feeling Emojional

First ever post from my phone...😆 I'm not sure if emojis will work but I doubt it would be the end of the world if they don't.

I have been a lazy blogger this year. But, well, life got in the way. In a good way. On Friday I took Ziggy, Judy and Jess to climb Slemish. It was Ziggy's first time climbing a mountain. He did well keeping up with Judy and Jess but he paid for it the next day and was so exhausted he lay in bed until 4 pm. I paid for it too as I slipped on the way down and landed on my very bony back. This was after thinking about people who were always falling and hurting themselves and scoffing at how silly they were. I am now one of those people. As it turns out my bones are rather solid and there has been no real pain except when I press the bruise. Which of course I keep doing...

And so...I haven't been writing much because I have only two options and that is to write about the surface shite, which I hate, or delve into the tapestry of my emotions, which I'm just not ready to yet. Perhaps I can tell my story through emojis...😢😢..😑😕😟...📚🎸...👦🍕👧...💑...😌😋😊...somehow I think my story is gonna get lost in translation!

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Thrice Salted Ricotta

I've been going with the Flo (my car) for three weeks now and it still doesn't feel 100 per cent real. That I am a driver. That drives. Tomorrow night the GCDC's will perform a few tunes at Uncle T's open mic night. I won't start getting the jitters until a few hours before playing. But then, when I think of what I've accomplished since the last open mic night (my degree, driving test, not dying from a stress related illness) I reckon I can handle this one.

Yesterday I sampled some Scicilian cheese and sweets. Everything was really tasty although the thrice salted ricotta cheese caught me off guard and it seemed like my tongue had shrivelled up inside itself. Wine and water helped with coaxing my tongue back into shape. was an experience :)

Today was meant to be a productive day. The plan was to fill in an application so I can work towards my accreditation. I completed the easy bits like my name and D.O.B. and, as usual, left the difficult bits (phone numbers and addresses of references) for another day. I also planned to print off a form so I can request my career break. I downloaded it so it's ready to print for another day. Because, today is not a 'doing' day, it's a 'being' day. It's a 'lying in front of a warm fire and resting the mind, body and spirit day'.

Monday, September 11, 2017

A Strange Encounter

I am a prolific writer. I'm not saying I'm a good writer but I am prolific. And, as such, sometimes I have to go through all my notebooks and rip out the pages that don't resonate with me. I was doing just this yesterday when I found a little memory from Thailand. Something that I would never have remembered had I not written it down:

Last night I was queuing up in 7/11 with a handful of snacks. A guy behind me started talking in what little English he knew. He asked me the basics like what my name was, where I was from. Then he told me in Thai that he would pay for my stuff. I tried to refuse but Thai people are very persistent. He told me was a policeman and I must've looked like I didn't beleive him because he then pointed to his hip and showed me his gun. I let him pay for my stuff and he asked me where I was going. I told him I had to meet a friend at the nightclub and he insisted on giving me a lift in his car even though the club was literally across the street. When I got into the car his girlfriend was there. I asked her what her name was in Thai and she was very sweet. They dropped me off and then waited for a couple of minutes before driving off.

A lot of strange things happened in Thailand but that one was up there along with the crazy ordeal of getting passport photos taken.

Friday, September 08, 2017

The Spider Mafia

I may have been able to talk the spider out of leaving my room but the next morning his two big brothers were waiting for me down in the kitchen. And then his daddy was in my room a few nights ago. So...yeah...the spiders can do what they want.
I was driving for one full week before I got my first parking ticket. I think I am dedicating so many brain cells to driving that it's making me forgetful. This is the downside to being, pretty much, a pensioner before I passed my test.

It's September already. This year had gone by in a flash but it has been a good year for me. I've completed my degree, passed my driving test, had a trip away with the Lovely Mels, bought myself the Box of Glory to progress with music making and...I've even found someone who is gentle and passionate to enjoy my free time with, someone who fills my jar with light. Perhaps both age and experience have taught me to not take anything for granted anymore, least of all happiness, just enjoy it when it's there and, when it's not, try to remember that it will come round again.

Right now, I'm wondering...what would happen if every single person in the world felt joy and happiness in their hearts at exactly the same moment in time? Would the universe shit itself?