No more 43 from work. 5 years ago
It’s been two years today that I pitched my REAL tent just south of Worthy Farm, with a view of Pyramid Stage and the Glastonbury Tor as background. To this day, one of the best things I’ve ever done in my life. I loved the experience so much I wished it was a permanent venue, apart of course of the ever-so-present mud.
Gawd, I so wish I was there this year.
The line up is SO awesome. Maximo Park! Blur! NE*RD! Prodigy! Madness! The Specials! Spinal fucking Tap! Nick Cave and the Seeds! The list goes on and on and on.
I would have even wanted to see Tom Jones…
Ach, ach. 5 years ago
If redbandita can’t come to the Park, the Park has to come to redbandita. I just can’t wait for August. 6 years ago
One of my collegaues sent me this rather sad joke today:
_One day the great philosopher Socrates came upon an acquaintance. The acquaintance ran up to him excitedly and said, “Socrates, do you know what I just heard about one of your students?”
“Wait a moment,” Socrates replied. “Before you tell me I’d like you to pass a little test. It’s called the Triple Filter Test.”
“That’s right,” Socrates continued. “Before you talk to me about my student let’s take a moment to filter what you’re going to say. The first filter is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to say to me is true?”
“No,” the man said, “actually I just heard about it and….”
“All right,” said Socrates. “So you don’t really know if it’s true or not.
“Now let’s try the second filter, the filter of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about my student something good?”
“No, on the contrary….”
“So,” Socrates continued, “you want to tell me something bad about him, even though you’re not certain it’s true?”
The man shrugged, a little embarrassed.
Socrates continued. “You may still pass the test though, because there is a third filter – the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about my student going to be useful to me?”
“No, not really….”
“Well,” concluded Socrates, “if what you want to tell me is neither True nor Good nor even Useful, why tell it to me at all?”
The man was defeated and ashamed. This is the reason Socrates was a great philosopher and held in such high esteem.
It also explains why he never found out that Plato was banging his wife._
It inspired me to have a closer look at my own gossiping habits. Can I apply the Triple Filter Test?
This would be interesting. I mean, I’m not a gossip queen, but sometimes I need to vent my spleen about for eaxample people I work with, yet I don’t consider that gossip, as what I say is true.
So applying the filter shouldn’t be too hard, but maybe I should try and lay off the PerezHilton.com a little, first… 6 years ago
Reading Monotreme’s excellent poem Hail to thee, protector! – Ode to a Nipguard reminded me of this marvel from the universe of Star trek TNG. This poem is Data’s declaration of android affection to his cat, Spot. Enjoy.
Felis catus is your taxonomic nomenclature,
An endothermic quadruped, carnivorous by nature;
Your visual, olfactory, and auditory senses
Contribute to your hunting skills and natural defenses.
I find myself intrigued by your sub-vocal oscillations,
A singular development of cat communications
That obviates your basic hedonistic predilection
For a rhythmic stroking of your fur to demonstrate affection.
A tail is quite essential for your acrobatic talents,
You would not be so agile if you lacked its counterbalance.
And when not being utilized to aid in locomotion
It often serves to illustrate the state of your emotion.
Oh Spot, the complex levels of behavior you display
Connote a fairly well-developed cognitive array;
And though you are not sentient, Spot, and do not comprehend,
I nonetheless consider you a true and valued friend. 6 years ago
I again had a cheer from the future! Love those futuristic cheers! I wonder who will give it to me? 6 years ago
I want to see the following people in concert:
(or at least a cover band..
cause obviously some of them are dead..)
-Death Cab for Cutie
-Simon & Garfunkel
**Saw two Beatles tribute bands. SWEET. 6 years ago
Here is a lovely poem about the little boy who found out the hard way that the ice on the lake would not carry him, yet.
you can find my translation below.
Will sehen, was ich weiß,
Vom Büblein auf dem Eis
(late version of 1827)
Gefroren hat es heuer
Noch gar kein festes Eis.
Das Büblein steht am Weiher
Und spricht zu sich ganz leis:
Ich will es einmal wagen,
Das Eis, es muß doch tragen. -
Das Büblein stapft und hacket
Mit seinem Stiefelein.
Das Eis auf einmal knacket,
Und krach! schon bricht’s hinein.
Das Büblein platscht und krabbelt,
Als wie ein Krebs und zappelt
Mit Arm und Bein.
O helft, ich muß versinken
In lauter Eis und Schnee!
O helft, ich muß ertrinken
Im tiefen, tiefen See!
Wär nicht ein Mann gekommen,
Der sich ein Herz genommen,
Der packt es bei dem Schopfe
Und zieht es dann heraus.
Vom Fuße bis zum Kopfe
Wie eine Wassermaus.
Das Büblein hat getropfet,
Der Vater hats geklopfet
Let’ see what I know,
of the little boy on the ice
It has frozen today
Still no hard ice.
The little boy stands at the mere
And says to himself very quietly:
I want to dare it once,
The ice it has to carry (me) –
The little boy trudges and hacks
With his little boot.
The ice suddenly creaks
And crash! he already breaks in.
The little boy splashes and crawls,
Like a krab he dithers
With arm and leg.
O help, I have to sink
In lots of ice and snow!
O help, I have to drown
In (a) deep, deep lake!
Had not a man come,
Who took heart,
Oh weh! (= cry of dispair, Weh = pain, sore)
He grabs him by his tuft
And pulls him out.
From feet to head
Like a water mouse (rat?)
The little boy was dripping,
The father was spanking him
At home. 6 years ago
From Guardian Unlimited:
- Earlier this year Pratchett underwent medical investigations after he started having problems with hand-eye coordination and dexterity. An MRI scan showed some areas of dead tissue and the suggestion was that he had suffered a “mini-stroke” some time in the past few years, and that he was now living with its legacy. In his statement, Pratchett says that the early onset Alzheimer’s “lay behind this year’s phantom ‘stroke’”. -
He says himself, he “aten’t dead”, but he’s only 59 and I am so saddened by those news. I know there are many people out there who suffer from Alzheimer’s (his “embuggerance” as he calls it), cancer (my bf’s mum), Parkinson’s (my sister’s mother-in-law) and that diseases and death are simply facts of life. But it makes me so sad that the brilliant brain which has given me 1001 chuckles is deteriorating. At the same time I feel guilty for feeling this for a man I don’t know, whereas I am rather cold about the in-laws. Maybe it’s because I’ve known and adored Terry Pratchett’s “brain children” for so many years, each for individual reasons. I feel a connection that I don’t for the women.
The whole group of 3 makes me (more) aware that we all are mortal, that everyone who is older than me who I hold dear is statistically prone to die before me and thus, one day, to be leaving me bereft. As I do not believe in a god, reincarnation and/or eternal life, this means that I will not see my loved ones again in a magic wonderland/afterlife. Not a nice thought, but part of my growing up and adopting adult thinking patterns.
But it still sucks. 6 years ago
My mother in law (if I was married) has been diagnosed with breast cancer. I have met her a few times and am, as the son’s girlfriend, emotionally involved.
They diagnosed breast cancer. We don’t know much about the prognosis, but our plans for moving to Ireland may all be influenced by this new development.
I feel guilty for firstly thinking “how does this influence my life?” (baby plans…) and placing Theresa’s health second, but I guess that’s only a natural reaction.
Fact is that bf’s younger sister D. cannot live on her own due to her health and if something bad is going on with bf’s mom, the family have to figure (other sister and brother) out a plan.
So we’ll be flying to Ireland next week, to have a pow-wow and scout the situation for our own future move, if we can.
I also thought of looking up evenstar, but considering that it’s only for a few days which we’ll be spending in Bray and not Dublin, I think trying to fit in plans for my social enjoyment is a bit selfish, so sorry, eve! Another time, I promise. 7 years ago
I was gone for what, 5 days, and not a peep out of anyone about my disappearance in my inbox? Shame on you. And you call yourselves my subscribers… I could have died! Well I nearly did or at least that’s what it felt like. I had the worst flu ever, 3 nights of fever and diarrhea until I was officially empty. I can still recall every morsel I had since friday evening. The silver lining is of course that I lost 3.5 kilos since. The downside is that yo-yo-ing might be expected, but this is the first time since what, july that the weighing scales’s display starts with a 7. I practically lived on the couch next to the loo and walked only those 4 meters between the two for what now seems ages.
Anyway, I was too weak to do anything but watch telly and LOTR special DVDs, I couldn’t even think straight enough to sudoku properly. I’m still dizzy now but have eaten a rusk today, and will go back to work tomorrow.
But what do you care?!? Go back to your own stuff, you… (grumble grumble)
I’m so glad this is over. ;o)) 7 years ago
After the first glass of vodka
you can accept just about anything
of life even your own mysteriousness
you think it is nice that a box
of matches is purple and brown and is called
La Petite and comes from Sweden
for they are words that you know and that
is all you know words not their feelings
or what they mean and you write because
you know them not because you understand them
because you don’t you are stupid and lazy
and will never be great but you do
what you know because what else is there? 7 years ago
I feel bad for Anne Frank. They’re cutting down her favorite tree. I wish I would have been able to see it. I guess I can’t make it over to Germany in a week. Sigh. More history slipping away from us. At least she never had to see it cut down herself. 7 years ago
In this world, nothing is certain but death and taxes.
—Benjamin Franklin 7 years ago
I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d advertise—you know!
How dreary—to be—Somebody!
How public—like a Frog—
To tell one’s name—the livelong June—
To an admiring Bog!
Emily Dickinson 7 years ago
un flambeau, jeanette isabelle, un flambeau.. ah blah blah blah blah..
joie sur la terre, gloire au sauveur.. que tous les hommes chantent!
adorons-le! adorons-le! adorons-le! notre roi!
vive le vent, vive le vent, vive le vent d’hiver! boules de neige et petit enfants, bonne annee grandmere! en marchent dans la neige.. nous chantons comme les oiseoix.. et dans nos campagnes.. rions comme il faut! ecoutons les cloches, ah c’est marveilleux! et le vent est beau.. oh something something rend joyeux! oh, vive le vent, vive le vent, vive le vent d’hiver! boules de neige et petit enfants, bonne annee grandmere!
etc, etc.7 years ago
I wish the world was flat like the old days
And I could travel just by folding a map
No more airplanes, or speed trains, or freeways
There’d be no distance that could hold us back.7 years ago
oh no! What’s going on? Aren’t the ad links on the right paying for the site anymore? 7 years ago
What’s with this?
Go here for a picture of junk which ended up in a small bread basket my mom decorated.
It’s sad. I can’t throw away stuff. I really have to make myself. So all of these small objects which don’t have a home get stuffed into the basket until it nearly runs over. 7 years ago
I miss having friends physically around me. I miss people I can see twice, three times a month, can go out with and with whom I can share both my and their lives. It is a different companionship than my bf and I have, which is in itself incredibly fulfilling. But most of the friends I made in Amsterdam are expats who, eventually, have nearly all moved to Germany, to Australia or South Africa. I have never related deeply to a Dutch person and, having lived in Holland for 11 years, I know that they are not my kinda people. I feel friendship to a woman in the UK who I’ve only met one night, but who, through 43T, has been a bigger part of my life than she probably realises.
This thought is not just emerging now, I’ve been thinking about this issue more than enough lately.
I will explore this further.
I have always been a person who feels better when having company than being by herself. When I was a kid, my grandfather put it very bluntly when he told me that I always need an audience. After having been a performing artist, I can say that this is only partially true.
I am the younger of two children, there was always somebody there. When I was a little girl, I had a “best” friend, let’s say she was called Sylke, who I saw 5 days a week, every single afternoon. We were like glued together, until when we were about 12 years old, my rival, let’s call her Nicole, entered the scene. Sylke went on playing more and more with Nicole, I felt left out and thus broke the first strong bond of friendship in my life. I soon went to a different school than they did, so that put an end to the whole story.
In my new class, there was an uneven number of girls, all of which bonded in pairs, and I was the one who was left over. At least so it felt, although one of the girls (Kristin) is still my dearest friend, today.
For four years, I “surfed” between the different pairs to always find myself not quite part of anything. On top of that, I was bullied by a boy in my class, which led to my decision to take a year out and give myself up as an exchange student to go to the USA.
In the states, I met a German girl, Anita, whom I stayed in contact with for years after we had come back. For a long time I felt like she was the only one who could understand me as she knew the people I stayed with and could relate to my confusing experience in Pennsylvania (different story altogether). But she was from teh south of Germany, so I only met her a few times after our return from the US. Unfortunately, I have lost contact with Anita, but will try to find her again.
My last 3 years in what you might want to call “high school” were a nightmare when it comes to friendships. Again, I found myself surfing from social grouping to social grouping, “sitting between chairs” and just hoping to be recognised, accepted, wanted. But apart from Kristin, I can’t say I really had a friend. So I couldn’t wait to move away from my little village. After half a year in Berlin, I moved in with my then-bf in Hannover. We had met in a regional project choir made up of 16 to 26 year olds who met 3 – 4 times per year for a week to rehearse and perform.
The friendships I made in that choir all faded, one broke quite apruptly. Different story. But I learned very clearly that friends come and go, most of them don’t stay with you all your life, no matter how much you love each other when you are “best friends”.
In my years in Holland, I have made a few friends who, apart from one, have all moved away. Amsterdam is like a beach, flotsam gets washed up, some lies on the beach for a while, but the tide will take it away again. This is what being here feels like. I feel almost afraid to get attached to new people these days.
I sometimes think that living in the age of mobile phones and e-mails has not really helped in making friendships last. It is too easy to call or text and break a commitment. I wonder how much of a friendship one can maintain when you are only exchanging a mail every so often, with somebody who is emerged in a completely different world, environment, lifestyle and time zone. You grow apart.
It hurts sometimes. Nevertheless, I am thankful for Susi, Kristin, Sophie, Fiona and Abigail, spread over 5 countries and 3 continents. It’s just so hard to accept that they will never know each other and be in the same room for, let’s say, my birthday. 7 years ago
...how to activate a “done” goal back into the active list, I’ll tick this off and only reopen it if I want to make an entry, if at all. I still am very happy that I have a space on 43 where I can post randum stuff and thoughts. It’s like a parking lot of ideas. 7 years ago
Many times today, I have thought of my bf’s sister. I was wondering how she was, and thought of asking him to give her a ring. Bit I didn’t. Still, I kept thinking of her, but it never crossed my mind that she was pregnant and that the baby was due about now. In the evening, bf’s other sister rang to tell us that today, G. had given birth to a healthy baby girl.
I am kicking myself for not telling bf about my thoughts of G. In hindsight, he will never believe me that I’m not making this up. 7 years ago