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Come Back

2nd Aug. 2006 | 09:18 am
Now playing: Pattern Recognition - Sonic Youth

I can't come back to this blog yet. I have taken some advice too seriously.

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21st Mar. 2006 | 05:40 pm
Now playing: Plaid - Lilith

I think I just blacked out, possibly for a month or so. I am steeped in work and bronchitis. I spent the whole day typing an interminable piece of work about video surveillance that refuses to be finished. I'm here posting this entry because I realized - in my petulant boredom - the last sentence I'd typed read "It should now be apparent that CCTV use is linked to bits of crap stuck to my rectum".

I was today utterly out-written by the automatic translation of a Spanish news article about football:

"Beginning by Squares, that returned to remove one from their prodigious hands to avoid the second goal of the Slovaks, happening through the defense, that as soon as it had confusions, except for a starting of somewhat doubtful party, and the center of the field, Spain left arranged to sentence in a moment and thus, before turning the first minute, already it had a good occasion, with a lack on the brink of madness. Marking and looking for the hollows in the rival defense, and finishing by the strong advantage"

Perhaps I need a proper job.

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Bottom feeder

28th Feb. 2006 | 07:25 pm
Now playing: It's Been Raining - Kimya Dawson

Joyce worked a 12 hour shift today. As I only went to "work" for a few hours this morning, I have been on my own for most of the time. If you keep up with her journal, you'll realise that she is freakishly addicted to cooking, and that I am banned from my own kitchen. Today I set out to prove a thing or two...

I decided to make something gourmet, so I amassed together De Cecco pasta, some Grana Padano cheese, finest sea-salt and some of the other middle-class products we have in our fridge. After literally thirty minutes of what I thought to be stovetop alchemy, I brought my shimmering creation into the light of the living room, only to realise that I had merely produced very expensive macaroni cheese. With weird bits.

I'm going to bury myself in a book on social movements and try to figure out a way that this activity can ultimately benefit the two of us - as her cooking clearly does - otherwise I am in trouble. Goodnight.

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A conversation before breakfast

23rd Feb. 2006 | 10:43 pm
Now playing: One More Cup of Coffee - Bob Dylan

Joyce is working now, and mornings are difficult for her so I try to help her out. A couple of days ago she was groggily trying to make breakfast. I watched her gather ingredients with her eyes half-closed and her hair flopping comically in the air.
"Can I do that for you baby?" I asked.
"No," she replied, "you'll only mess it up."
It was a bowl of oatmeal....

I love that girl.

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23rd Feb. 2006 | 08:09 am
Now playing: none today

Life being the way it is, there is a lot of sadness and you can't attend to it all. But here's a bit.

I support Liverpool Football Club, and in the summer the team recruited a young, Malinese defensive midfielder called Mohammed Sissoko. It looked to be a good signing, though he is undoubtedly raw, verging on reckless sometimes, and he picked up a yellow card a game for weeks. But there is a real poise and energy to his game. Liverpool aren't usually very exciting to watch, especially not with our pedestrian attackers, but Sissoko is a live-wire. He jumps into tackles, wins most of them, and he fights more than anyone else on the team. His passing is wayward at worst, but he improved a lot in his first months and along with some other young players in the side he looked to be a part of a potentially lethal future-Liverpool.

On Tuesday, we played Benfica in Portugal, and we lost one-nil. But the saddest part of the day is that Sissoko was accidentally kicked in the head, he might lose sight in one eye - ending his career immediately. Now Premiership footballers are more often subject to derision as overpaid fashion-victims who are distantly out of touch with the thoughts and emotions of the fans who adore them. In fact, my first thought was - shamefully - that Sissoko probably has plenty of cash to see him through and perhaps even insurance that will set him up for life. If I wanted to drag sociology into this I could say that that kind of response is part of the miserable abstraction derived from rampant capitalism - but I know I might bore the shit out of you.

Sissoko is 21 years old and I can't imagine the dread he is feeling. He clearly loves football and it could well all be over before it really began. I hope the doctors can make you better Momo.

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A Dive

13th Feb. 2006 | 05:30 pm
Now playing: Broken World - The Black Heart Procession

This building spontaneously burst into flames yesterday, quite dramatically. It was a diver's shop on Douglas St. here in Victoria. This photo doesn't really capture how surreal it seemed, burning outside my window.

My iBook equally spontaneously decided to begin working again.

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13th Feb. 2006 | 08:01 am
Now playing: Silence

My ibook has begun to die. I won't be around until I get a replacement. It's all quite sad.

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I saw a dead squirrel today

6th Feb. 2006 | 07:21 pm
Now playing: Even In His Youth - Nirvana

The campus is utterly over-run with rabbits at our university. In the summer, people come and feed them carrots and the other things they have seen rabbits eat in cartoons. One day, outside the library, one ate most of my cheese sandwich - even though I was hungry I found it too amusing to stop it. When it finished it sat there vibrating and staring intensely into the distance - I thought maybe the cheese had poisoned it. I was worried it might die so I packed my things up quickly and got out of there. Rabbit murderers are despised here, some years ago a drunk student picked one up and punched it - I think they kicked him out after that, and the animal rights people made his life a misery for a while.

Squirrels are everywhere too, but they are stealthier. The rabbits sit around and graze all day and don't seem to mind people. Often when people leave food for them, a squirrel will leap down from a tree and steal it right out of the rabbit's mouth. It's a really cold time of year, and times are probably hard out on the grass, I can only imagine one of those bunnies finally decided enough was enough...

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I think I have become a lightweight

3rd Feb. 2006 | 06:30 pm
Now playing: Square Heart - Black Heart Procession

I spent the afternoon being jittery and grumpy and I've only got myself to blame. In order to prolong doing some work that I am not especially enjoying, I wandered around my new neighbourhood. There is a coffee and book store across the road so I went in for a drink - I react badly to caffeine these days and I was dense enough to order an espresso. It's not the first time I have made this mistake. I proceeded to glance excitedly around four furniture stores that are well out of my price-range before undergoing a miserable coffee-crash.

Despite being tetchy and glum, Joyce took me to the art store on the corner when she got back from work. We bought three tubes of acrylic paint and a 30 inch square canvas to hang on the wall. It was fun laying paper out on the balcony and mixing the paint, even though the green we picked was all wrong and most of it is sat there unused. When I was a kid my dad used to take me to work (at the theatre) and let me paint daisies, stars, and other small things on the pantomime back-cloths. I was getting so into this square of off-grey/blue that Joyce let me do the whole thing. It is sitting out there now, drying, and the newspaper is flapping all over the place in the 4th floor breeze.

Even if it doesn't look good (it should though), it got me out of a bad one today so I will probably maintain that it is great anyway. The work is going alright now and Joyce is cooking something that smells wicked. I better go.

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An Ice Cold Plunge

2nd Feb. 2006 | 09:33 am
Now playing: Patterns Of Fairytales - The National

This morning I shall not be losing six to the cholera epidemic before I take my place with the bobbins and the carriages at Thomas Heatcote's factory, nor will I be ingesting the latest wonder cereal whilst enduring a course of leeches for my sciatica, and I surely will not be walling-up my wife in the east-wing of the house because it is her 'dirty week'. Why? Because I am not that type of "Victorian". I am, instead, perhaps leaping back a little further in history and waking up in a brand new apartment in the colonialist's colony of choice - downtown Victoria, BC, Canada.

The carpet shampoo is so fresh, the suds are bubbling up betwixt my toes as I chew a day old pizza-slice, wondering where the hell all my furniture is. But outside a meth-addict is arguing with a sea-gull, a car-alarm (possibly ours) is warbling merrily and I'm robbing free internet from one of the 12 open-access wireless networks I found this morning.

I'm going to sit on the carpet, look out over my balcony and be happy.

(photos will follow when i find my camera)

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