Finnished

(And a slightly worrying realization)

Hanging around home alone, Mrs. at some function I was happy to avoid. So I'm sitting here reading a book, and listening to music. More specifically - Carol King. When I first listened to her CD a few years ago, I was surprised I hadn't heard her name before, since I already knew half her songs...

Such a wonderful voice, and what a gifted song writer.

Yeah, so I just felt like sharing her with whoever still bothers to check if I'd updated.

Here she is, with a voice and a piano that can break your heart:

Beautiful.

And of course there's this one, too.

As for the worrying realization business -

A while ago I got the audio-book version of the Harry Potter books. I listen to them in the car, mostly on the way to work and back home, and I'm loving it. With 20-35 minutes of driving everyday, I'm already well into the 3rd book.

Now, Mrs. is going on a work trip next week, and I figured I'd pack up the dog and go up to visit my mom and sister instead of being stuck alone in Jerusalem all weekend.

Here comes the worrying part - the first thought in my head after deciding on the trip? Was it sadness at being away from my wife for a few days? Was it joy at the prospect of seeing my family? Was it happy anticipation of 2 days' vacation from this city?

No.

My first thought was "cool! Three whole hours of Harry Potter"!

Of course, all those other thoughts did come right afterwards, but the damage is already done. Is there a Harry Potters Anonymous?

 Fridays. So full of calm stillness. I'm sitting here, a little whiskey in my Coke*, breeze through the open windows, dog dozing off on the sofa beside me (when he's not chasing bees, that is). Old vinyls playing in the background - Billie Holiday, Frank Sinatra, Marlene Dietrich, and now Edith Piaf - framing my perfect evening.

 I'm sure my mind nostalgically idealizes them, but I remember these perfect Friday moments. Back from the army, allowing myself to fall asleep on the sofa in the living room, the sound of my mother cracking sunflower seeds and turning the pages of the weekend papers. From summers in Finland I remember distant lawn mowers and the smell of freshly cut grass and the lazy post sauna lethargy. From childhood and early teenage I remember faint music from neighbouring buildings. Classical music flowing through all the rooms of my grandparents' house.

 I know all these memories are not necessarily Fridays, but they all share that Friday feeling of worthy rest, of slow going indulgence.

(Press play before you start reading the next paragraph)

 Piaf reminds me of just such a perfect moment last year in Brussels. The weekend evening was so hot and inviting we just had to go out. We took the metro to an area we usually visited on Saturday mornings for the second hand market and the antique shops. We picked a small cafe and sat inside next to the huge open windows, as the tables outside were all taken. We were on our second drinks I think, when we noticed a woman had been singing outside. The whole of that little cafe, with its three inside tables and four outside, all went quiet to listen to this girl singing La vie en Rose. It was so romantic-movie-like, almost too perfect.

 Happy Friday, people!

*Yeah, I know it sounds farty, but what can I say - I forgot to buy beer. And anyway, it sort of fits my current mood..

Forgive me Doctor for I have sinned. It has been 4 years since my last appointment.

Since then I have drunk coffee and Coke, and I have smoked cigarettes.

I have had impure thoughts about L Word characters, I have yelled at a dog, I have eaten sticky candy.

I have gone to bed without brushing my teeth and I do not floss.

I do not chew sugar-free gum after meals to raise my PH levels.

I have eaten chocolate.

A lot of chocolate.

"Five Hail Mary's, my child, three drilling appointments and one teeth cleaning, and all shall be forgiven. And don't forget the mouth wash!"

 People watching

Wednesday afternoon, on the way to town. As soon as I'd sat down, I knew I was intruding. The couple opposite me must have just had a fight. Maybe he was leaving her. Maybe she'd cheated on him. They didn't say a word, but their body language screamed their familiarity and their anger and their pain. She was looking at him eagerly, trying to catch his eye, but he was looking straight ahead. I wanted to tell her it's OK, it'll pass and it'll get better, but I didn't. I had to look away because in a metro full of people, they looked like they needed privacy. If I could draw I would animate them, on notebook pages, in rough draft-looking lines, with a blue ball-point pen. And a hint of red in his slightly puffy eyes. But I can't draw, so I wrote it down instead.

Purple watching

Got a big week next week - three midterm exams, two birthdays, a dentist (and a partridge in a pear tree). I don't know, I'm not feeling excited about this birthday. It's not that I have a problem with my age, but I'm just sort of...indifferent. It's just another day really, all the big milestones of becoming an adult are gone and passed. Maybe 30 will be more exciting, I don't know. But it's not like finally I finish school, finally I can drive, finally I can drink. It's like, yeah, whatever. The only difference is I need to remember the new number, in case somebody asks me.

Silver lining

It's been 0 to +3 all week. The ice and snow are almost completely melted from the sidewalks, and are thinning out in parks and gardens. Looks like I survived the winter, wehey!