2005-04-29 - 10:03 a.m.
What I'm listening to: Lullaby of Birdland-Sarah Vaughan.
So I think that I've finally hit that post-vacation down now. Even though what just happened wasn't really a vacation. I went to the UK for a conference, and most of my time after that was spent in various meetings, and also juggling family politics which is always fun.
The last few days of recovery in Montreal have been the best. Just chill out in my space. And this chill out time has inspired me to find my own space next year. I'd like to avoid roomates. Sometimes, I just want to be alone and I don't like my headspace to be crowded by other people. But then of course, if I were to lock myself in my room/office every once and a while, that may create a wierd atmosphere in the shared house. Personal space it is.
Through some blog sleuthing I managed to find out that the guy last night who was in our party, and seemed to be on a first date with one of our friends, was in fact on a first date. They met at a singles night or something. I still think the guy tries too hard from what I saw. Is it really that difficult to be yourself?
At the conference, there was enough bullshit to fertilize Kansas. People either putting on false airs, name dropping about such and such theorist, or putting on the corporate fake niceness no doubt to cover up some hidden agenda or social anxiety disorder.
Had a few meetings after the conference, they all went fairly well, but the Cambridge meeting was stellar. Man I wish I was in England right now. It doesn't feel like she's died or anything, but it is sad that I won't know when I will see her again. For some reason or another, I keep on going back to Europe for some reason or another almost every year, so maybe I'll see her sooner than later. Sending her an email is pointless, when all I want to do is be with her, to stroll again, when after a few steps the rest of the world ceases to exist. When we walked the other day, I forgot that there was a world outside of Cambridge. I still can't believe that we spent the day together only 5 days ago-Sunday. Feels like much longer, but of course the Atlantic Ocean separating us has a tendency to do that.
I really need to get out of the apartment today and move around. Enough of this resting shit. Doesn't accomplish anything except missing the UK. I bought a new pipe in Oxford, and one in Paris. All I did while in Paris was sit in cafes in the left bank, smoked, wrote, drank coffee, watched the world go by. Paris is way cooler than London. People in Paris know how to dress-they have class. In the UK, everybody's either a Spice Girl or a football hooligan.
The British seem to market this commodification of white happiness to global markets-the early Beatles, Gerry and the Pacemakers, the Dave Clark Five, S Club 7, Spice Girls, etc. Ok, ok, I know this theory is flawed because it doesn't take into account the global success of such misery as the punk movements, Portishead, Radiohead, etc. etc. but I'm just a bitter post-colonial subject so I'm venting. This fake happiness is no doubt a cover up for all the shitty weather, social inequality, poor personal hygiene and bad teeth that plagues Britian. In Punjabi there's a saying that is becoming more and more relevant in my life as I get older. Here's the English translation:
"The cloud with the most thunder, gives the least rain."
Those who project, those who present the fake happiness, who talk a lot about their own achievements......something's up. Something's a miss. They either have serious acceptance issues, or a walking pack of lies.
My chair at the conference blasted my paper every chance he got. It was to the point where I had considered paying my cousins the 1000 pounds to have his legs broken. But, is he really worth the effort, and the calling of a favour that big? Not really, life goes on.
After some sleuthing after the conference, I found out that he was not in good favour with a lot of the conference participants, especially the others in my panel. Point, khansahib. One of my co-participants didn't like him at all, and thought that during the whole conference, he had a 'hey look at me, look what I'm doing' type of attitude. Sounds about right.
I may have mentioned this before, but I was raised by my maternal grandfather, who was a trade commissioner-a career diplomat. When we weren't gardening or fixing cars (I still love to garden to this day, I find it very relaxing in a sentimental childhood sort of way) we were out visiting all of his friends. He had officially retired by then, but was still active with the embassy and the community. He never explicitly taught me any diplomacy skills, but thinking back, all that time spent around him has helped a great deal in my professional life. So many images and memories are surfacing, all wonderful times spent with his friends, who when I introduce myself now, as his grandson, I am still greeted with profound respect. He's been gone for 15 years, and I still miss him. I still interact with him in dreaming and waking life, when his ghost decides to appear.
My maternal grandmother died right in front of me. My paternal grandmother was very poor after my grandfather passed away. The only material object that I had from this grandmother was her rosary beads. While my maternal grandmother was taking her last breaths, I was praying on the other grandmother's rosaries. As my grandmother's breathing started to slow down, and the rests between breaths became longer, the rosary fell apart and broke in my hand. I quickly put the remains in a cup to keep them safe to pick them up later.
She died 20 minutes later.
The next morning my cousin and I went to her room to clean up, and bring her things home. The cup was gone. All I have left are those memories from both grandmothers.
I think I'll stop using the Cambridge lighter, and store it away in my personal archive, for safe keeping.
Found a half loaf of bread in the fridge. Smoking and feeding the birds in the park sounds like a nice afternoon activity.
