My Fave Restaurants

My Fave Beautician Shop.

My Fave Fruit Shop.

Women and spatial awareness

It's very poor. It becomes very obvious in a busy city like London. Either that or they enjoy playing chicken as they insist in charging at you in loud clunking shoes and then swerving away at the very last moment. Also they suddenly side-step out from behind another pedestrian just as you approach. It's so uncalled for. Then there's the trance they enter outside a clothes shop as they come to a sudden halt- unaware of the fact that without some deft ninja moves on my part she would be looking at paving stone rather than those potentially loud boots in the window. I want to put learner plates on all of them.

I'm done now.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/4202199.stm

Time to Move On.

Can’t cross or see the lines of hesitation
No choice, so uncomfortably strapped in
Chest tight with twitchy passivity
A responsible member of society
In a warm caf, inertia takes the initiative
So familiar that it tricks the brain
It’s dry, though it seems like rain
Unconsciously he shouts out an expletive

Gets funny looks.
Time to move on.

In the Machine

“Finding a pattern it must all fit. If it doesn’t it then it is wrong. In fact it’s scary. I can’t help it, I am addicted to patterns.” She has no opinion on this strangeness she is nodding her head to. She wants to connect with the guy, he’s safe she won’t be hurt with him. As long as she understands the rules she knows where she is. She always needs to know where she is. The embarrassment of this failure in her is too much for her to acknowledge, but the need for certainty and the structure of rules is another pattern. The chance of connection that she is struggling for could have occurred if this thing she could not admit to herself she admitted to him. Her journey it seems is far from complete. Too delicate, the flickering thought is gone, not able to stay alive enough to burn into memory to be of use. She has failed again in a way she can deal with now by simply agreeing with him “Yeah I love patterns. I can’t stand it when something is not in it’s place”. Suddenly aware that this may sound scary and controlling she says “but you know I am not a control-freak. What I mean is I like everything in its correct place so I know where everything is.” She feels stupid, he is going to think she is stupid. A weak nothing-thing to say.


Nothing of this exhausting difficulty his words have put her through is seen by him. He has no idea that until she knows the rules she will never enjoy conversation with him. She doesn’t want to talk to him she wants to talk to his machine the thing that will produce predictable outputs form a set of given inputs. He needs to explain what he said. “ I like to see consistency in things because otherwise I go on analysing why things are not consistent. Like if a person says something and then says something that contradicts or something that doesn’t fit with what they said earlier it bugs me. I need to find out why. How can that person have an identity otherwise?” He is hooked on identity, this is bad news for her, she has a worried look in her eyes that he doesn’t fail to notice. He has given up wondering why she has these sudden changes of expression and tries not to let them affect him. Her groundwork is done, she has warded him off enquiring too much. Until she knows the rules she doesn't know herself.

One looks through curiosity the other comes from fear. It’s already over, too much unspoken and unrealised, it’s going to be another arc towards the end where no one is to blame, may be some fun along the way- but trapped in the machinery all the same.

The unimportance of being nice.

I think decent and nice are different things. Decency is a deeper thing and comes from within, a moral code and thinking things through critically taking a view on things without arrogance or lazy dogmatism. Niceness can come from following protocol, rules, with little of ones values being involved. An arms trader can be personally nice and polite to be with, may even follow the motions of his/her religion. I would take issue though if he/she was described as decent. So simple niceness can be misleading, I think the article brings that out. So in my view "nice" doesn't tell you much about anyone. Niceness without decency is a symptom of weakness and I find these people can be dangerous. Cos they will do anything to get approval, be it following orders to torture captives to gain intelligence or simply playing up to the vanity of others for acceptance and personal gain. Nice is only really nice when it comes from a deeper source a sense of right that tries to be true in isolation from ego and desire. Aaaaannnddd reeeeellaaaaxxxx.

This annoying article kind of says the same thing in a bitchy way:

http://www.heartless-bitches.com/rants/niceguys/niceguys.shtml

The Tea Ceremony

During introductions between a potential bride and groom there is always the main event: The Tea Ceremony in which the woman brings in Tea to the guests i.e. the prospective groom and his family. This ceremony has been much maligned but I think Tea Ceremonies are top.

I bring a big suitcase to build an obstacle course before the start of the Tea Ceremony. Amongst others there's the see-saw, road cone slalom, slippery lino, hoops (fire optional- avoid if she is wearing long dupatta, saree or long swinging ponytail we don't want a court case). At the end you check the level of tea spillage in the tray by pouring it into a measuring beaker. Note the amount of tea spilt; as you go to other Tea Ceremonies you will build a log of tea spillage amounts. Propose to the most skilful tea balancer as she will be calm under pressure, can probably balance home and work life too, enjoys challenges and most importantly respects tea. You can even take bets beforehand to add spice to the proceedings. You can add complexity by adding bonus points if the tea is brought in cups nicked from PIA flights.

It pays to do your homework, find out if the household favours the use of hostess trollies to serve tea before the ceremony. You may have to widen the see-saw and you could add other tests by bringing your own customised spikey wheeled trolley to re-enact Ben Hur.

Actually I’ve had introductions happen in my house, I wasn’t one of the people being introduced but my duty was to bring the tea. I counteracted the danger of feeling emasculated by wearing a really macho apron from which I cut off all the frills and had dyed black, on the front were stencilled words like “death”, “war”, “fast car”, “I love footie”, “city-slicker” and “big willy”. I think I got away with it, in fact I rather enjoyed it as it was a tea-serving job well done.

Glimpsing a stranger's world

Clubbing with some friends in Coventry, I felt shadows being cast. A group of lads were behaving threateningly in a way I couldn’t put my finger on. It was a tentative display of aggression, their dislike of us was only just spilling over their inhibition and fear. As time went on and alcohol was dissolving their various restraints and doubts they began to be more obviously after trouble. It was unclear whether it was a personal thing or they were frustrated and just wanted to use violence to feel better. My concern though was about one of the guys in our group and if would rise to the bait, he was the most hot-headed and was known often to go too far- not knowing when to stop when he got started.

Thankfully a bouncer stepped in before anyone laid a hand on anyone, and did brilliantly. He saw the expressions that flashed across some faces and knew when make a move. He just separated us and seemed to know who needed his attention most. He spoke to us but focussed on my hot-headed friend. In a few words he gave us glimpse into his world; I’m not sure how it happened because it seemed so personal. We weren’t really taking in what he was saying until told us about how he saw his brother stabbed to death in front of him. Blimey. All the tension disappeared because it was rendered irrelevant and insignificant. When he spoke it became clear he had seen a lot of violence and that it held no fear for him, it was just banal. This made him, to me at least, formidable. The most impressive thing was he had a kind of concern, it was so unusual.

I reckon we caught him on a day when he gave us a glimpse into his world which he would never do ordinarily. Strangers do tell strangers things they may not even say to many of their closest friends and family, just because somehow the circumstances are right and/or they know never see each other again.

Out of the Blue

I’m walking down a street on a dark evening feeling wearied by the general drudgery of existence. I decided to flap my arms, people around begin to look. I flap my arms again, now people begin to point and kids are heard laughing in derision. The cold scrutiny intensifies until the fifth flap, when I actually acquire the gift of flight.