The Lair

In no particular order – the events of the past week and a half or so –

Number of near death events: 4
I forgot that some roads are now one-way (a lifetime of habit on familiar streets) and ended up looking in the wrong direction for oncoming traffic.

Number of new bloggerati met: 2
Although one guy (you know who you are etc) was a brief meeting. The Fascist was, gratifyingly, almost exactly as I had imagined – although he sounded odd over the phone.

Random acts of desperation: 2
I still don’t have a DSL connection. A couple of days after I landed, I lugged my laptop over to a cafe (with hideously priced smoothies) just to enjoy the free wifi on offer. I felt simultaneously bad and good about the whole thing. Bad, because ye know – I didn’t really want to go to that place. Good because, well.. internet.

I also sent a plainitive SMS to tezcat asking for news of the internets. He rose to the occasion with a summary that would have done any summer-upper (sumerian?) proud.

Random three wheeler dudes talking to me about politics: 5
No really. I don’t care. Please stop. Why doesn’t my usual non-committal grunt work with you anymore?

Random three wheeler dudes talking to me about rising prices: umm. lost count
I’m still operating on UK prices and conversions. I laugh mockingly at your puny 2 quid fare. Well, no. The beer is annoyingly expensive. Maybe I’m just going to the wrong places.

New eateries scoped out: 4
The Sizzle was decent (their website still no worky, btw). Photos taken. Not sure if my whipping out a camera was the reason for being offered a questionnaire at the end of the meal or not. Maybe it was just a slow day, which is why the manager/owner chappie came over and asked us about the meal.

At the other end of the spectrum, also went (twice!) to a place near Nawala named “The Chinese Steam Boat”. Their gin is vile and filthy cheap. I highly recommend it. Decent food too, I guess.

Number of cumulative hours spent in a gaming cafe getting my ass kicked by screaming twelve year olds: umm… 15ish, I think
*mumble mumble* I was having a bad day or three, ok?

Number of paranoid bus conductors heard screaming at people to grab hold of their own bags: about 3
Yeah, bombs on buses, yadda yadda.

There’s more, but that’s probably for later.

For the moment, at least. I’m heading southward in a while to start the first leg of what will be an enjoyable holiday.

This is usually how my trips to Sri Lanka work. The first day I land, I love it. I like the heat, I don’t mind the humidity. I get called a freak by many for this. The fact that I’m running away from -10c temperatures means that I will probably get a cold the first day. I will have all the fruit and food I like to eat within reasonable distance. All those things will be good. My first couple of days at home will be blissful.

Then the angst will set in. No decent internet connectivity. Nightmare traffic conditions (although I may avoid it this time). And you know, extended family. I think my extended family is reasonably cool, sure – but you know, too much of a good thing. By the end of week 1 – I expect I will be wishing very hard that I was in another country. And then things will calm down and settle into an ordered pattern. Some additional chaos in the offing this time around as I ponder that age old question “what happens next?” and deal with the blunt force trauma of getting new travel documents and stuff.

And on a slightly related note. Meetup! I probably haven’t mailed or gotten in touch with most of you lot (except the folks I see on IRC). Send me email. Actually, that’s possibly a bad idea. A call is probably more reliable.

I know, I know – I’m a few days late with this. I blame the personal drama that engulfed my life since Friday. Some positive personal drama mixed in all of it, but you know … drama. Must deal with before doing stuff online etc.

The thing is – the whole deal with St. Valentine’s day eludes me. But any day of the year is good for the quirky (or grand) gesture of romance. I may mock the person doing it mercilessly, but you know – having the big brass ones to do something spectacular just has to be appreciated.

Which is why I stopped and gawked like a bumpkin at the person playing a guitar in the quadrangle of Alcuin College. This enterprising young chap had plugged in his guitar to a power socket in a ground floor kitchen and was busy serenading someone under their first floor window. Needless to state, he had quite an audience of people pointing and laughing. He carried on regardless.

Gawk I did. Yet, I realized I was probably adding to his discomfiture (if he felt any, I doubt it) so I moved on. Only to scamper back moments later because I had the brilliant idea of getting a few pictures of our young Josh-Groban-with-a-guitar. Some innate sense of decency kicked in, however, and I refrained – even though the urge to take a photograph and caption it refused to go away.

Serenade someone on campus with an electric guitar? Sing (I couldn’t pick out the song) under their bedroom window? Now that’s a gesture that Hallmark would find difficult to replicate. A pity then that the big brass balls that this bloke carried around was clearly interfering somewhat with his singing voice. It sounded like two cats stowed in a barrel and tossed into the river Ouse.

Oh well, I sighed as the discordant notes rose up and bounced off the firmly closed first floor window. It’s the thought that counts, right?