Still waiting

Monday came and went, then Tuesday and Wednesday. Still nothing. A quick review of objective reality settings suggest more than a little arrogance on my part. It would appear that this was more a case of mindless gnat flying into window than butterfly's wing flapping. Ah well, might as well concentrate on finishing up in style before I enter the dark satanic mill and take my proper place in the Big Soc. Write one hundred times:

I will cease futile attempts at individualism immediately

I will cease futile attempts at individualism immediately

I will cease futile attempts at individualism immediately

I will cease futile attempts at individualism immediately

I will cease futile attempts at individualism immediately

I will cease futile attempts at individualism immediately

I will cease futile attempts at individualism immediately

I will cease futile attempts at individualism immediately

I will ...

I will ...

I will ...

Did the world spring into existence five minutes ago? Reviewing my perception as it was blogged eight days ago I can remember being absolutely certain that something momentous was about to happen as a result just of posting a letter. Well, as I sit here feeling the pressure to be clever, it occurs to me that this particular butterfly's wing has not yet flapped. Anxiety levels have fallen to a manageable flutter, no-one has punched me in the nose and a walk to the pub is promised this evening. Wonder what Monday will bring...

Hmm

An odd and confusing day. It would be so much easier to drift, not to attempt to exercise will. But the only certainty seems to be that whether action or inaction is chosen, all decisions will result in some reaction. These reactions cannot be known, they can be anticipated and even multiple scenarios can be carefully calculated like playing chess.

Unlike chess where we know the pieces can only move in a finite number of directions, human beings are at the whim of a number of unfathomable variables. Fortunate are the folk that can accept. Unfortunate folk that suffer emotional ambush.

A little bit of jouissance

Greek Orthodox festival at All Saints church on a balmy Sunday evening; people enjoying themselves to lyra music and a priest so beautiful his movement among the crowd was accompanied by a barely audible sigh. Two little girls, watched over by their grandmother start the dancing early, bobbing their gaudy balloons.

Observe the blue unicorn and the tiger. The tiger's owner negligently lost her balloon early amid tears from admonishments by a frustrated yiayia. Naturally, the little beauty got a replacement while the good girl stayed close and protected her lovely flying unicorn. As the evening wore on tiger girl danced, delighted in her world while unicorn girl stayed close and protected her unicorn. Granny fussed and fixed, tugged and tutted at tiger girl, who accepting

these strictures, nevertheless took what she wanted from the night. So absorbed was she in her stream of bubbles she was only brought back by granny pulling her machine away with further admonishments. Anyone watching that evening might wonder what these two little girls will become. I know I did, I wondered if unicorn girl would have a pleasant easy life and whether tiger girl would struggle to be free in a world of convention and submission. I hope you won't be bored unicorn girl but here's to you tiger girl - keep blowing your bubble machine, one way or another. By the way, check out the motorbike balloon top left of the photo; it was tiger girl's second choice.

Is this matrix working?

Joyless humming expanse of open plan office space, human heads bent towards soundless computers, contained within a linearity that denies the human spirit any release. No waste bins or personalisation of work stations permitted. And definitely no art in case it's not to someone else's taste. Heaven forbid that unseemly passions should be stirred in the breasts of local authority workers - where on earth might that lead? Independent thought!? Swoon.

Performance management. Promoting Attendance Procedure. Uniform rows of grey lockers to store personal possessions and working documents at the end of each day. And oh, the misery of park and ride. Blank faces morning and evening herded like cattle to muffled milking stalls. Living the nightmare, and to think that only last week there was the Ionian Sea and Ouzo. Shh, don't tell - whoohoo! I don't know whether I loved this song because it was a youth anthem or that it shocked the adults around me so very, very much.

Been there, done that

And it was good

Kapsoura

Today, a reflection on endings and beginnings. By chance I met my son's ex-girlfriend of four years ago; a lovely girl whose eyes betray her hurt feelings still despite her assurances that she's happy. And my own girl, loveless too long has ended a relationship that put pain in her beautiful face. Ah me, what it is to be young, and not so young. How we yearn for love, to love and to be loved in return.

As we age we take on more and more people, we learn to love and cherish them, especially the ones who come from outside to love our children. It is the hope that after we are gone there will be someone special. But they have to be able to dance, laugh and live, they really do.

The Greek father calls his son a couple of days before Christmas and says, "Niko, I hate to ruin your day, but I must tell you that your mother and I are divorcing - forty-five years of misery is enough."

"Mba mba, what are you talking about?" Niko screams.
"We can't stand the sight of each other any longer, We're sick of each other, and I'm sick of talking about this, so you call your sister Toula and let her know."

Frantic, the son calls Toula, who explodes on the phone."No way are my loving parents getting divorced!" she shouts.

She calls Dad immediately and screams - - "Patera, you are not getting divorced! Don't do anything until we get there. I'm calling Niko back and we'll be there tomorrow. Do you hear me?" and hangs up.

The old man hangs up his phone and turns to his wife. "Endaxi,"
he says,"they're coming home for Christmas and paying their own way."

Enjoy