A New Start

So, another new year is approaching and this time I am quietly optimistic. I used to consider September 1st the beginning of the year. Now, it is sometime in the middle of October as this is when there is a new start in the teaching world and mine. January 1st has never had much of a strong meaning for me.

Despite this, plans are starting to form in my head. Resolutions have never really worked for me so I don't really spend much energy on them but plans are things that I do look forward to. Some involve the anticipation of hard work and graft, hours of mind racking and head scratching to create the finished product. Travel, on the other hand, simply involves budgetary plans but this does not make it easier in any way. It does make the long days of preparation, running around town and teaching worthwhile though and adds another worthwhile incentive to that of basic survival.

Regarding the eve of the new year, I plan to follow the pattern of previous eve's by relaxing. No fireworks, no over indulgence in champagne of other forms of booze, no dancing on tables, no mulitple countdowns which lead to a big anti-climax and most of all no big plans. I will save those for the rest of the year. 

Christmas - what I don't like and what I like.

I don't like Christmas for many reasons as I wrote one year ago in this blog. I don't like the build up to this time with all the signs pointing at you to 'spend, spend, spend' or face looking mean or being called 'scrooge', I don't like consuming so much food, I don't like Christmas songs (not even Shakin' Stevens), I don't like the hope for snow when it means I can't ride my bike, I don't like thinking about what presents to buy nearest and dearest, I don't like shopping full stop!, I don't like Christmas movies (as shown by my desire to watch a documentary about the fight for democracy in South America on Christmas Eve) and I don't even like saying the words 'Happy Christmas'.

What do I like? I think that for me the important thing is to appreciate who we know and where we are. It is the time for reconnecting with family members if we are far away. It is the time for having a meal together without thinking about work or anything else. It is the time to switch off for a short time and relax because that is what what everyone else is doing so it is hard to do otherwise. This is what I like and why I am glad to celebrate this time off.

Flying Home

One of the things I always find amusing about flying is when the captain switches on his microphone, introduces himself with a few words in the usual relaxed manner and says something like 'sit back and enjoy the flight'.

Being able to fly is an amazing achievement but not particuarly a comfortable one and for me it is not an enjoyable experience. After getting past the multiple security points and stressing about losing something or forgetting about a possibly suspicious object in my bag, which could encourage further inspection or even interrogation, then there is the flight itself to worry about. Yesterday, the pressure on the aircraft was one problem which made my head feel as if it was close to exploding. Yawning, swallowing and holding my nose and pretending to sneeze helped a little to retrieve my diminished hearing as well as easing the pressure in my head. The constant droning of the air conditioner was another thing to moan about.

My last rant is connected to the passengers I had to share my flight with. Why do people constantly turn on their phones when they are told that it is not safe to do so? I don't know how great a risk there is that phone signals may block or interfere with communication equipment at the airport but the risk of doing so is unnecessary when all that is needed is a little bit of patience.

After landing, the scramble to get back onto land is understandable as claustrophobia reaches its peak.

On the positive side, I am happy at being able to fly as it would take probably a day to get home. Thinking about spending countless hours in a bus followed by an unstable ferry journey makes me appreciate human air endeavours and I guess I can tolerate the above discomforts for this.

Why?

The title of this entry is still echoing in my head. Why? Why such unprovoked aggression towards innocents who soon had their night ruined and not only their night?

I was with some friends going from one famous bar in Krakow "Alchemia" to another, "Eszeweria". Our spirits were high due to the alcohol flowing through our veins as well as the fit of giggles that seemed to be infectious. Two friends had come in from out of town and the rest of us had all eaten some wonderful food together. Basically, all was good.

The first sign of a disturbance came when I saw someone running. He then hit another man who was soon clutching his jaw in pain. It didn't stop there. My two friends who had come here for the weekend were soon trying to protect themselves from the aggression shown by the hooligan who had just left his mark on the other man.

Then, he proceeded to attack anther friend. I watched, shocked, and sickened as this took place before me. I was stunned, too stunned to move. Despite our greater number, the sheer anger and rage shown by the two hooligans was too much. Finally, it ended and we escaped into the bar we had been aiming for. My legs were shaking as what happened finally began to sink in. It made no sense and that was the hardest part to understand. Had it been provoked, at least there was a reason. As it was, there was just a barrage of frustration and anger that sadly had the effect of sending three friends home early and left the rest of us in another bar with feelings that cannot be described by words.

Hooked!

What is it about music that captures me sometimes in a more extreme way than others?

Like obsession, I arise from bed with one thought on my mind or return home from work with a great need which is only satisfied when the first notes of the melody ring true to me. Recently this has been caused by an album I have known for some time but which has come back to me in a very poignant manner as if in revenge for not being appreciated before. This album, is the first one by Loudon Wainright III. The track below I wanted to share is one called 'Hospital Lady' but have been unable to find it online. For this reason, the link I have placed up here a clip of the opening track on that album recorded in 2009 which shows that he is still in good voice. It is the honesty and sincerity in his voice and also the beautiful sparcity of the compositions on this album that makes it seem as if he is playing in the same room that really appeals to me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g_8Ludnqh_c

Routine Issues

So after thinking about life a little since the last post I have decided that it is not so bad after all. Monday has come round again and with it comes to mind a word that has different meanings for me - 'routine'. Sometimes it signals boredom. Escape from it becomes desirable and I think of getting away from it as quickly as possible. Bars come to mind - both forms, one which inhibits and one which somehow offers release among social circles.

Today it is normality and it is helpful. It signals that there is a new start and a new sense of purpose. I am obliged to follow patterns but in between the spaces the opportunity is there to create something that is mine.

Mortality Issues

It's that time of year again when there is a sense of excitement as the year nears its end. An extra digit is added to the the number we currently have. The same is true for my magic number. It's hard to believe how it has grown and matured in some way. It is also interesting to see how it changes identity both internally and otherwise. For some people, the difference is minimal or doesn't exist at all. I wish this was true.

December. Normally, this is a time of reflection, a near death experience when my life flashes before me. The landing of an airplane is the nearest comparison in mind. I wait for the bump as the wheels touch down and feel the relief of my fellow passengers who usually applaud to express this, at least on the flights between Ireland and Poland.

I recount all that I have achieved, add it all up and see what it amounts to. Is it ever enough? The answer is in the restlessness that brews inside me as I feel that the book is coming to an end. You, the reader and also I, the reader have a mutual desire. There is a great need to try to make the story as interesting as possible. Why? I sometimes wish I knew the answer but right now, I am happy not to know it. Ignorance or simple acceptance is sufficient.