~ Be Sure To Wear Some Flowers In Your Hair ~

Автор плэйкаста: maximilianna Создан: 27 сентября 2009 15:30

Звук:	San Francisco (Be Sure To Wear Some Flowers In Your Hair) – Scott McKenzie – Composed By John Phillips – Forrest Gump [Special Edition] Original Soundtrack – http://www.allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?…tdld6e
Изображение:	Going to San Francisco – by ~thursdaymorning – http://thursdaymorning.deviantart.c…007959
Текст:	Songwriter – John Phillips – San Francisco

]]> http://playcast.wordpress.com/2009/11/07/just-for-love-electric-light-orchestra/ Sat, 07 Nov 2009 12:21:28 +0000 PlayCast http://playcast.wordpress.com/2009/11/07/just-for-love-electric-light-orchestra/

- Надежда -
Автор плэйкаста: maximilianna
Создан: 5 ноября 2009 20:00

Звук:	Just For Love – Electric Light Orchestra – Written-By, Producer – Jeff Lynne – http://www.discogs.com/Electric-Lig…303697
Изображение:	Starlight – by axelchevroulet – http://axelchevroulet.deviantart.co…948243 – с помощью maximilianna
Текст:	и идея плэйкаста – Котяра Виктор – Надежда – http://www.playcast.ru/?module=user…100435 , по мотивам стихов Булата Окуджавы

Pink Martini’s version is totally cool, but I just love the original as well. There is something about Italian entertainment that is just so funny.

I still can’t understand why I keep reading comments on the online version of the Times, especially on anything regarding black people. Some really nasty people seem to have made it a goal to repeat ad nauseum racist comments. They want to show clearly that they DO NOT, ABSOLUTELY NOT and repeat many times daily that they DEFINITELY DO NOT want A SINGLE ILLEGAL IMMIGRANT in Malta (which for them is the equivalent to black people). They emphasise their point by typing such words every time in capital letters (since it is not possible to use bold and underline).
 
Now, these do not show that the majority of the Maltese people are heartless and racist. A look at the names gives a clear indication that about seven to nine people are responsible for these disgusting comments (two people, someone who signs in as l galea and another as Louise Vella astonish me to their serious commitment to the cause, coupled with their obsessive repetition of some words and phrases). I try to remind myself not to take these people (whom I imagine, suffer from deep solitude and boredom) seriously. However I was in a negative mood wasting my time reading this crap when I received an email from an old friend I hadn’t heard from for quite some time.
 
He’s French and was in Malta a couple of years ago working with youths on a non-profit EU project. A very friendly, charismatic person, respected by everyone who knew him, especially the youths he was working with. He also happens to be black, which is not that much of a coincidence since both his parents are black. Unlike what many Maltese people assumed, he is neither a legal or illegal migrant but a French citizen son of two French citizens spending a year in Malta as a volunteer.
 
We used to hang around a lot together while he was here, even went abroad in a seminar in Turkey together. He was the only black guy in a group of forty, but not a single person in the group bothered about that. We even cracked ‘racist’ jokes (such as smile when you’re in the dark so that we can see you) which he took with good humour since it was obvious there was no malicious intent.
 
He was only the only black person on the plane when we came back which didn’t seem to bother anyone aboard. However it mattered a lot to customs officials. Only some three or four people were searched at the Maltese airport. He was one of them. A coincidence? Maybe. What definitely was not a coincidence was the fact that while the others where just frisked and officers took a peek into their bags, my friend’s search took a whole hour. When he was ready he told us he was Ok but the expression on his face showed otherwise. Every single item in his bag was carefully inspected, while he was subject to an intensive and humiliating strip search, with a special emphasis on body cavities. The way he was talked to was a quasi-interrogation, and when it was clear that there wasn’t the slightest illegal thing about him, he was told he could go, no apologies whatsoever.
 
He still had a long time to spend in Malta, during which we enjoyed other social occasions together. Once again, most people never bothered about his skin colour. Yet he still left pre-maturely (after nine months) and the reason was the racist attitude of certain people such as bus drivers, people on the bus, together with a couple of passer bys who slowed their car to send their we-don’t-want-you-here message.
 
Seeing things from my (white Maltese) perspective, it is obvious that these not so pleasant people are a minority. From a thousand cars passing by, only one or two would pass such comments, only a couple of bus drivers did not stop on the stage as was their job (and, jokes apart, they had definitely seen him). However, if I put myself in his position, I’d have seen things differently. It is not the 999 cars who just went by that you notice, but the one that stopped so that the people inside can offend you, if you get my point.
 
Replying to his email I felt like sending an apology. But why should I? What am I to blame that some losers who happen to share my skin colour turned nasty? Or for a couple of artists who far from skateboarder style graffiti art paining, vandalise walls and billboards with misspelt racist comments (no blaks) and swastikas.
 
I owe him no apology. I’ve been a good friend. Yet I had to write this blog, mainly to ‘clean myself’ from the guilt I sometimes feel, which honestly I do not deserve.

After Polaroid, Keeping Instant Photography Alive -by Henning Hoff
(Time.com, Tuesday, July 21, 2009)

To read the original post, clicky-clicky!

first polaroid camera ever made. Model 95.

When the Polaroid film factory in the Dutch town of Enschede shut down in June 2008, it seemed to signal the end for one of the most ingenious and iconic innovations of the 20th century. Almost 60 years after American inventor Edwin H. Land sold the first Model 95 of his new instant-picture camera in Boston in November 1948, the troubled Polaroid Corp. halted its cassette-film production for good. Demand was still relatively high — the plant churned out 30 million cassettes in 2007 and 24 million in the first half of 2008 — but the plant had run out of its allocated amount of the chemical components needed to make its famous instant film, and Polaroid’s decision to move to digital meant there was no point in ordering more. The film stocks will last a little while longer. When they run out, though, the Polaroid camera — once the world’s most popular, with about 1 billion sold — could be history.

(link to owner)

(link to owner)

But two men attending the factory’s closing ceremony had other ideas. Florian Kaps, an Austrian entrepreneur and Polaroid enthusiast, and André Bosman, until then the engineering manager of the Enschede plant, met by chance on that fateful day. Together they decided to find a way to bring instant photography back to life. (See “Who We Were: America in Snapshots.”)

“We quickly agreed that there was a great market opportunity for a new instant film,” remembers Kaps, who switched tracks after getting a biology Ph.D. to enter the retro-photography business. First he worked as an executive with the Lomographical Society, founded in Vienna in 1992 to celebrate the Russian Lomo camera, a very basic snapper that conquered some bohemian corners of the West after the fall of the Berlin Wall. Then, four years ago, Kaps fell in love with Polaroid and founded a company specializing in selling equipment for analog instant photography. An official partner of Polaroid, the company still operates via the website Polapremium.com, where enthusiasts can buy the camera, related equipment and some of the remaining film stock. (See pictures of historical photos on Google Earth.)

(link to owner)

(link to owner)

In October 2008, Kaps, 39, and Bosman, 55, took $2.6 million in private capital and started what they endearingly called the Impossible Project, with a view to reinventing the traditional Polaroid film. They founded a company named Impossible, leased a small building on the site of the closed Enschede plant, secured some key production machinery and hired nine former Polaroid employees to come up with new formulas for both a monochrome and a color version of the instant film. The new films would have unique characteristics but still maintain some of the best bits of Polaroid, like the square shape, the white frame and that familiar warm chemical smell. Since then, the impossible has become the highly likely. “Two weeks ago, we cleared the last of about five major road blocks,” Kaps tells TIME. “We have now proven that it is possible.”

Still in the experimental stage, Impossible’s instant pictures have a look that’s reminiscent of the early days of photography, “but this will be part of their charm,” says Kaps. While the company is still in negotiations with Polaroid over the use of the Polaroid name, it has been given permission to make film that will work in Polaroid cameras. The trial monochrome version of the film will go into production at the end of October and, if all goes according to plan, should be available to the masses in time for Christmas, “before people start to throw away their old Polaroid cameras,” says Kaps. In 2010, when the color version should hit the shelves, Impossible hopes to sell 1 million new films, with prices likely to range from $23 to $28 for a 10-shot cassette. The company predicts worldwide demand will eventually reach up to 10 million films a year. (See pictures by the acclaimed Richard Avedon.)

(link to owner)

(link to owner)

Building on his growing empire — Kaps also runs Polanoid.net, the Web’s biggest Polaroid community, and the Polanoir gallery Polanoir.com in Vienna — Kaps is hoping a new instant camera will go on the market in 2010, to be built by a partner company (he won’t reveal which just yet). “It will be high quality rather than a mass product, with a good lens and manual focusing,” he says.

Despite the dominance of digital, Kaps sees a bright future for old-fashioned photography. “More and more people are rediscovering the fascination of Polaroid,” he says. “They are seeking the analog adventure. Just opening a film packet — the smell alone has something sensual to it. And the pictures have a certain worth, unlike digital images, where one takes 10,000 pictures of the same event.”

And it seems there’s still a market for instant pictures. “Polaroid cameras and film were becoming more and more popular with our customers, and we were disappointed when we found out last year that Polaroid was to cease manufacturing film,” says John Buckle, bookshop manager at the Photographers’ Gallery in London. “People like the look and feel of Polaroid analog photography. They have a retro look with lovely colors compared with the often bland look of digital photography. [Instant pictures are] also sociable, allowing for the sharing of a real photograph rather than just a small image on a screen.” (See pictures of Barack Obama on Flickr.)

(link to owner)

(link to owner)

So far, the Impossible Project has been greeted with enthusiasm from Polaroid fans, art photographers and the international media. “It has been unbelievable,” Kaps says of the response. “If we are successful, then this has wider implications. We are no art project, not a venture of some madmen — we want to be a thriving business for at least 10 years.” Which should give instant-photography lovers plenty to smile about.

(link to owner)

(link to owner)

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When I crossed the old, iffy bridge I should have known, this shortcut might get us in trouble. Aaron, Julian, Gerco’s 4-week-pregnant sister, my mother-in-law and me were on our way to Punta Cana, a beautiful beach resort in the Dominican Republic. Somebody had suggested to take this little detour, promising that it would save us at least half an hour on our three hour trip, less traffic and beautiful scenery. What shall I say, for sure there was less traffic!

We ended up in the middle of one of the country’s huge sugar cane fields and the Bateys, little villages where the Haitian workers live. The scenery is beautiful, but there is no garage, petrol station, electricity, running water, well you get it. Anyway, the shortcut turned out to be a dirt road like this, full of bumps, puddles and ruts:

My sister-in-law was starting to feel sick, my mother-in-law grumpy and the kids, let’s not even talk about that! I just tried to stay happy and positive, making remarks like: “Look, such beautiful skies, how lovely the colors of the fields and the dirt! The Haitian children are so cute, don’t you think?” In the mean time we were driving from bump to bump and I was seriously starting to worry about our tires and shock absorbers. What if the car broke down here? How could I get help, would we have to spend the night at the Bateys? I really had no clue where we were and how to get out. But then there was this one very reassuring thought:

“At least we have enough Club Social Crackers to get through the night!”

You see, Club Social Crackers are the best you can get. Together with Julietta’s chicken, it was my family’s biggest comfort food in The DR. The boys ate them for snacks at school, I ate them when I was pregnant, happy, sad, hungry, full. Gerco ate them at night, well you get the idea. I used to take stacks of them on the road to share with my favorite beggars on the corners of the streets. Every place has its specialties, this for sure was the one for me! Fortunately, the car didn’t break down, we found our way out and I managed to keep my sense of panic hidden. We ate our crackers under very normal, safe circumstances and enjoyed our weekend at a nice resort.

Last Wednesday, Julian had his first baseball training. I took him there and liked the place immediately. His trainers are from the Antilles and it’s Caribbean all over. The smiles, the way they approached the children, the laughs and games, it was simply lovely. But the best thing about it was when we walked back to the car. I found a Club Social Crackers wrap on the ground! I picked it up and stared at it with amazement. Julian thought I was really weird, picking up this piece of dirt and putting it in my pocket. “Aren’t you going to throw it away?”, he said. I felt a bit dumb and did. But I kind of wish I hadn’t.

This little piece of plastic took me back to beautiful landscapes and wonderful people. Days that couldn’t get harder than they get, days that were absolutely splendid. Times with toddlers and babies, beaches and mountains. Floods, cockroaches and rats. Times of facing the poorest of the poor while living a life among the richest. Nights of partying and loud music, generators running and our crazy next door rooster cocka doodle doodling non-stop.

Times that will never come back, but all of a sudden caught up on me. A clear, plastic wrapping, with ‘Club Social Crackers’ written on it.

Jury duty implies sitting for hours on end and taking notes. I have developed a new pain in my elbow, due to scribbling. Used to have mouse elbow, now have pen elbow
It turns out that my almost daily ten minutes stretching exercise has become as indispensable as the walking. I do miss my weekly Feldenkrais and stretching classes though.
But what can you do? Keep on walking whenever I can.

From May 30 2009 to June 5 2009

Saturday: 14, 000 steps, 10 + 20mn brisk walking
Sunday: 7, 000 steps
Monday: lots of napping
Tuesday: 13,000 steps, 25mn brisk walking, 5mn stretching

Dreaming of more lazy days…

Wednesday: 10,000steps, 10+25mn brisk walking, 10mn stretching
Thursday: 10,500steps,10 mn brisk walking, 10 mn stretching
Friday: 10,500 steps, 20 on brisk walking, 10mn stretching

The nice part is we are actually leaving court earlier, around 6 or 7p.m.
But May has been light, due to lots of days off. From now on, it’ll be five-day weeks.

I magined that everyone would be a little nostalgic and sad about this being our last real school day at Västangård. But I just found most people incredibley lame and annoying. It’s sad because I fear that next week is going to be the same… The day had a great end though; we watched Carrotvisions latest production. Carrotvision is four BRILIANT guys from my class named The Iron Gang, who makes hilarious movies. They’re in swedish but worth watching just because these guys are great actors!

This afternoon, my dad and I went to Heerjansdam. A small village about 10 kilometers away from where we live. It has a beautiful old center and what’s even better about it: My grandmother was born there. So living here is a little bit like going back to my roots! We passed the farm where she was born in 1901 and talked a lot about her family, what they did and how my grandmother grew up.

I have always been quite fascinated with the fact that she and also my grandfather, who’s from 1900, was born that long ago. I always referred to her in history class. She still remembered seeing a plane for the first time, the first car, the first bike. She could have been a passenger on the Titanic, danced the charleston, worn a corset and you can just go on and on. She died in 1993 and just thinking of all the wars, technological, economical and social changes she has gone through, makes me wonder how she dealt with it all. I do know that when we once gave her kiwi’s, she looked at them, was silent for a while and said: “I think I’ll put them in the freezer…”

Triggered by seeing the place where she was born, I looked up some information about her family. Her surname was Labrijn, which comes from Le Brit, a name that traces back to Guernsey, an island in between England and France. This family moved to the Rotterdam area in the 17th century, probably fleeing from persecutions because of their protestant faith. I won’t bore you with all the ins and outs of my ancestors. But some details, especially the way they died are quite exciting!

Pieter Labrijn and Dirkje de Geus lost 2 children in the same year 1792. One drowned in a canal in Dordrecht at the age of 30, the other shot himself accidentally with a pistol at the age of 24. Sounds that there might have been some other issues going on. But then, the pistols in those days…

Pieter Labrijn, son of the other Pieter Labrijn married twice and had 13 children, all boys! One of the boys died at the age of 27 when he was hit by the wing of a mill. His nephew ended his life the same way in 1811. Only the Dutch can die like that, I’d say.

Then there was Gijsbert Labrijn, the most tragic member of the tribe. Of his nine children, five died. And he had almost all his children within a year after each other, so children were born and buried constantly. Very peculiar is that they gave the children the same name as the ones that had died. Leendert 1 died in 1833, two years old, Leendert 2 in January 1837, 7 months old and Leendert 3 in September 1837, 6 weeks old. Fortunately, the second Jannetje did survive. Wonder if there was some genetic illness running in the family.

Then there was my fathers grandfather. He had a pub in Rotterdam. As soon as a ship sailed in, he would put the gin ready on the bar so the sailors could walk in and start drinking immediately. It was quite notorious for the fighting that took place there. My grandmother, a very devoted christian, later would discretely describe it as a “teahouse”. After closing down the bar, my great-grandfather sold beer to pubs, delivering it on a horse and wagon. Then he became a farmer in the east of The Netherlands. My father remembers him as a very nice, cheerful man. He liked motorcycles and was the first in his village who owned one. He died in 1948 when a truck hit him riding his bike.

And finally the most amazing death: Pieter Pieters Leberin, born in 1660 in Rotterdam, was a captain on a ship. Legends say that in a fight with Algerian pirates, he flew in the air and died!

So my flying thoughts and dreams of flying certainly derive from something!

daži cilvēki pieprasīja šito padarīšānu rakstīt banānu Latviešu valodā, tāpēc…

Beidzot pienāca mans pirmais tūkstotis (OVER9000?) trešais tūstotis skatījumu manā DeviantArt lapā. Tas nozīmē, ka esmu izaudzis no nubito uz kādu jau atpazīstamu seju iekš dA. Tiem, kas nezin, DeviantArt ir mākslinieku komūna, kur jebkurš, fotogrāfs, zīmētājs, amatnieks, liriķis, u.c.  var dalīties ar saviem gara darbiem ar pārējiem ~8 milj. lietotājiem un 36 milj. skatītāju (ne-lietotāju, gadā). Un nu jau man ir 19 48 50 lojāli fani, kas regulāri skatās manus darbus . Varbūt tieši tagad tas ir novēloti, bet gribās paskatīties atpakaļ uz 2008. gadu. Kā tas tika pavadīts…

Notika tik daudz labu un reizē arī sliktu lietu. Brīnums, ka visām tām bija tik daudz laika xD. Man bija daudz jautru laiku, bet diemžēl, ne tik daudz kā citus gadus. Es domāju, ka 2008. es biju daudz pasīvāks, nekā jebkad. Šogad esmu nosolījies to mainīt ;P . Vismaz esmu pārtraucis būt slinks un cerams šīs gads būs daudz produktīvāks…….cerams.

2008. bija arī pildīts ar ļoti lielu kvantumu dramalamas/drāmas, gan Onlainā, gan dzīvē. Šķiršanās, satikšanās, drauzības sākšanās, izjukšana, aizmiršāna, visu to es redzēju sev visapkārt notiekam, bet ne ar mani, par ko es esmu priecīgs? Nez. Varbūt man gribējās kumosiņa pašam no visas tās dramalamas, kas notikās visulaiku (nav jau tā, ka man netika NEKAS xD).

Visā visumā, 2008. gads bija pagaidām visliktākais gads manā dzīvē, vai varbūt man tā tikai liekas, pēc pēdējiem tā mēnešiem. Citi gadi bija labāki. Vienīgā labā lieta bija jaunā gada tusiņš ^^. Tas bija diezgan jautrs. Man liekas, tas bija jautrs, jo visi zināja, ka beidzot 2008. gads iet prom, un jaunais, 2009. atnesīs jaunas, svaigas vēsmas. Un varbūt tieši tāpēc 2009. būs labs gads .

Cerēsim, un laimīgu jauno gadu ^.^ (lol, janvāra vidū xD).

Noskaņojums:  So, so…
Klausos: AKFG – Rewrite
Ēdu:  Sviestmaizes
Drinking: Coffee

So, it finally arrived.
My first thousand pageview in DevianTARD. Or more  precisely 1380th pageview (oh wow, they grew  to whole 380 overnight). And I now have 19 loyal fans .

I finally grew from a boy to a real man xD. It’s really a good start in a new year.

Looking back in 2008. I must say, that many good and bad things happened. I had some fun times, but not so much as other years. I mean, I think I was more passive in 2008. than ever, in my life. Atleast, I stopped to be so lazy, and hopefully, this year will be more productive for me.
Also, 2008. was filled with TONS of dramalama, both IRL and Online. Breakups, crushes, fights, broken friendships, all that I saw around me, but I must say, none happened to myself, which I am happy for? IDK. Maybe I wanted something drama-like to happen (it’s not like there was no drama AT ALL for me, but……).

All in all, in comparison, 2008. was the worst year in my whole life. Other years were much better. The only good thing was the new year party, which was fun, like, really fun. I guess it was fun because 2008. was going away, and maybe this means, that 2009. will be a good year.

Well, lets hope so. Everybody have a great 2009. and good luck ^.^

Mood:   Content
Listening to:   Jesper Kyd – Vegas (this reminds me of AoM ^.^)
Watching:   Earl & Fairy
Playing:   GTA 4 (super-laggy)
Drinking:   Coffee

It helps to concentrate, keeps your breath fresh and if you get the right one, cleans your teeth. Chewing gum! Besides all those things, for children it’s definitely by far the most exciting and fascinating thing they can chew on. I realized that for the first time when I was 22 and babysitting a friend’s four year old. She had had a very great day, been to birthday parties, seen lots of friends, etc. etc. When I asked her what the best thing that day was, she said: “When I got a piece of gum”. And my kids are not different. It’s my driving force to get them in the car in the morning and buckled up. It works.

I do end up in sticky situations. A few days ago, Michelle took the gum out of her mouth and created a sort of spiderweb between the car seat, her hair and fingers. It took quite a lot of fuss to unravel her, and I had to cut some out of her hair. Besides that, they often swallow the gum and I’m still waiting for all the threats of constipation to come true.

I’m writing all this, because I’m still in child memory mood and was thinking about the fact that when I was young, I never got gum. I don’t know why, I guess my parents just don’t like it. I’ve never seen them chew (on gum, my father does chew on chicken bones) So I had to find alternative ways. I’ll start with the illegal one. Only one time, I must have been about 8 years old, I snatched a pack from the supermarket counter. I remember two things. First, how easy it was. Second, how guilty I felt! I made sure to chew outside, so my mother wouldn’t notice. Funny enough, one day she called me and asked if there was anything that I needed to tell her. Feeling caught on the spot, I confessed my sin immediately. Now I wonder if this was the thing that my mother had on her mind, perhaps she just wanted to have a motherly talk!

So what I then ended up doing is very disgusting. I just picked used gum from the street! If you chew for a while, the sand goes off and it tastes just the same as new. Fortunately, I had enough pocket money to just buy my own when I learned about bacteria and such. And I have to say, I’ve always been very healthy, so it must have built some resistance!

I can be so grossed out by my own children. But I do see where it comes from!

Every three years, somewhere in a never opened box, I find the bag again: Ansett, Airlines of Australia.

I got this bag when I was 4 years old and on the plane to The Netherlands. In this bag, I put my childhood treasures and special remembrances. As you can see, it’s full of stuff!

As I looked in the bag, I was thinking how all these absolutely ridiculous, worthless things mean so much to me. There were some medals that I had won with gymnastics. I remember always winning the second price, because I just could never keep balance on the beam! But how I enjoyed it! The bow for the horseback riding was actually not a price. I was so bad that they would not give me a diploma, and gave me this as a sort of comfort. The report card said that my legs were too wobbly. A medal that you got every year for the “Avondvierdaagse”, a sort of event when children will walk 5 kilometers for 5 days in a row. Once, during the walk, I talked so much and wasn’t paying any attention. I bumped into a lamppost. It hurt so much!

There’s some really weird art and crafts stuff, old paintings and letters that I got from friends. Besides that, a coin collection with 1 cent from 1952, coins from the countries that have the euro now and even some from the former USSR!

My braces and my mouth before… I had such big gaps between my teeth that I was sort of able to weave my tongue through the front row. And the pain when they would adjust the braces! Then there are pictures from my parents when they were young. It always fascinated me that they had actually been children themselves. To be honest, it still does! Some goofy pictures of me and my friends. A necklace with a bike, a surfboard and a badge in the shape of a trumpet.

I took out the watch that used to be my grandma’s and was very surprised that it still works! So I’m wearing it now, and every time when I look at it, or winding it up, I’m thinking of her 60 years ago, milking the cows, or doing other hard work. Because that’s what she did.

And I’ve put some other items in it as well. The positive pregnancy test from Aaron, shoes that Julian wore when he almost drowned and foot prints from Eva and Michelle when they were just born.

The bag is going to be my personal museum. With just me as the visitor, nostalgically strolling through.

Ehhh…….

I think Nostalgia is one of the most painful things in the world.

In the last year, many old things have came back to me, making me feel nostalgic. Videogames, old schools, my old jobs, old music and old movies, and my old friends.

Especially old friends.

The most intense notalgia was recently, or more precisely, today. I was playing easly World of Warcraft on official server, when I really don’t know why, but I decided to look at the old ragezone forum and ragecraft private server. It was totally on a whim. And what do I see there O.O . When I thought that my old guild “Alliance District” where I met two of my friends from Estonia, Prawlock and Nutcruncher, was dead, there they were. Still playing everyday, the guild is working like nothing had ever happened. I mean happened THEN, when we decided to leave…….

I still remember it today as it was only yesterday. The server was in a state of panic. It was holding on a thin string. The main sysop was killing everything and everyone. Players quit by days. from 120 to 100, from 100 to 80, and from 80 to 60. It looked like it really was dying. So did “Alliance District” decided to leave the server. It was like titanic. The next thing I remember was, that we lost contact with everyone. And it was the moment everything ended. All the fun times together. THE END.

…

or was it?

The only people who lost contact and went black was I and my friend jancha (cacaman, see “Pagrabs”). Fast Forwarding the tape, we are now more than half a year later, on official server, playing the real game. I think we started just because of that one thing. We felt nostalgic. We wanted to feel the old feelings we felt when we played on Ragecraft.

But there is one problem.

Atleast I miss our old friends….
I don’t feel the real nostalgy I was looking for….

Yesterday, at a second hand market, hanba found herself in a room filled with old chairs. The light was coming through a dusty window, filtering through the room with bare concrete walls. In this small room there were several chairs from the former half of the previous century. The covers and colors had faded but the frames were still very attractive – which is why the merchant was asking quite a fat price for these old beauties.

I looked around and thought about a problem with vintage furniture. It is too laden with memories. At the store it was hard to see what kind of an atmosphere one of the chairs will generate in your own home. At the home an old chair is only a small part of the overall furnishment. As a single detail, it can be quite a romantic piece to add to your room. When several are put together, however, they reinforce one another’s gloominess. The memories shared by all the chairs becomes heavy, dusty, nostalgic. The word ‘nostalgy’ includes the word ‘algia’ which means pain. (E.g. ‘analgetics’=”anti-algics”=painkillers) Who wants to experience this pain in their own home?

As weird as this sounds, this made hanba think of her grandmother. How she, like most grandmothers, likes to spend time with her family; her children and grandchildren. She has her “girlfriends”, a group of old ladies who have known each other since elementary school. These ladies have so many experiences in common, having lived through the same times, years, phases, ideologies. For a younger person, spending time with peers may bind one closer to them. For an older peer group, however, there might be just a bit too much life lived together for a group gathering to be only pleasant. Too many memories come together at once. The mass of common memories can become heavy and weigh you down. The group may very well be consumed by nostalgy. It may be more pleasant to be the only “old piece of furniture” in a room – just as my grandmother says she feels happier spending time with her grandchildren.

It may seem materialistic and insensitive to compare one’s grandmother to an old chair. Nevertheless, I believe this experience may have made me understand her a bit more and hence, hanba will not apologize for this. Also, hanba has a lot of respect for the old, durable furniture. More so than all the newer items made of pressed sawdust.

It will be interesting to see what hanba’s grandchildren’s generation think about us. We will certainly outlive the sawdust creations we have produced. Will there be any items left that will make our grandchildren understand us better? A heck of a lot of scratched plastic bowls?

I think you just can press right and then “show picture” to see it

I miss when I could eat truckloads of sweets without thinking about what kind of chemicals am I ingesting and how many pounds have I just put on;

I miss believing in impossible things like Santa Clause, Love at first sight and all.

Above all I miss when I could think about next year, or in five years, with the same blissful indifference; when I didn’t know about time, when it was so abundant in front of me I could afford not to count it down.

But anyway. I’m no kid no more and so I’d better get myself a job soon. Still looking!

Will keep ya posted!

I’ll conclude with that nice Clannad song,

Nice evening to you,

Mxx

I’ve just listened to that song about Australia, and you know what ? Now I’m so depressed. I miss Australia like you can’t imagine. I miss the bush where the sky is populated with so many stars, and more shooting stars than wishes I can think of. I miss the footy tippings, the sour taste of canned UDL, the silence you can’t find anywhere but in the outback.Silence, it is a sound,indeed; it is like emeralds, so easily shattered,it is only the rare gems that do not break that are precious. In Australia, I know exactly where, you can find gems of silence.

I am going to enter an online footy tipping competition to keep in touch with my old aussie life, yes, my clocks are still at Australian time an I know the footy season is starting soon !Hey!

The funny thing is, I’m pretty sure I’d miss Ireland if I went back to Oz tomorrow.

But what I miss, I realise, is the travelling, the change, the discovery of new lands or rediscovery of things I’ve forgotten. I find it so difficult to stay in one place. The winds blow in all directions,they wisper in my ears of  colours I’ve never seen and songs I’ve never heard, spices I’ve never tasted and scents I’ve never smelled. I sometimes wish they would take me around with them,blow me like tumbleweed.

Genie, I’m getting so serious. What I need is, my best two mates Ben and Jerry,some couguar zero,my eeyore pyjamas and a video of Dancing on Ice.

that’ll cheer me up.

haha!

(that aussie song I was talking about.So many memories in that happy little tune)

Have a nice evening!

Mxx

- Civil War -

Создан: 20 марта 2009 23:23

Звук:	Guns N’ Roses – Civil War. Composed By Duff McKagan/Axl Rose/Slash/Izzy Stradlin – http://www.allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?…wdld0e
Изображение:	Soldier – by tochudo – http://tochudo.deviantart.com/art/S…316101