right on

I was pretty chuffed that I got to sleep in today (my definition of sleeping in being waking up at 7:30). And that it was gorgeous and sunny. And that I didn't have to go to work since I would be on a course for the next 2 days. To top it all off, I had my first decent latte since I went to Madeira last summer. As I waited for the barista to do her magic, I fell upon 'Baci', those little Italian chocolate bites made by Perugina. Many many years since I had tasted one so it only added to the delight of the day. But it didn't end there. The quote inside this particular Baci made me laugh as I walked back into the classroom:

'Being a woman is a terribly difficult task since it consists principally in dealing with men.'
- Conrad

Hilarious considering the recent thoughts on alpha women. I think the universe is trying to tell me something.

poor pc

Yesterday I thought of a PC as a human. That was friggin' scary.

But I should really elaborate. The office was pretty empty with half the team gone either for holiday or illness. The 2 outspoken guys on the team were spared. Both were having issues with their PCs and as the day progressed, they complained and cursed, increasingly loudly, and with more frequency. And so I felt sorry for the little boxes under our desks. I mean, if we're not running 5 applications simultaneously, we're inserting multiple devices into the thing and expecting it to work. And when it freezes, or there is a long pause (and long amongst us these days seems to be 5 seconds), we scream, curse, or bitch.

And then, an image of a person in a hospital, tubes strewn about and transfusions galore, flashes in my mind. I mean, how easily do our bodies reject organs and blood, despite theoretically perfect matches? How would you feel if you were poked and prodded, tubes up the ass and down the throat, all sorts of liquids and organisms injected or attached to you? And yet we expect so much of an inanimate box made of plastic, silicone, and metal.

Yeah, I grant that it's weird to humanise a PC, to translate its existence into an imaginable human life. But the daydream 1) illustrated my altered state in working life and 2) heightened my appreciation for this thing I'm typing on. Or maybe I was just amazed at how worked up people can get over their computer's. It would be interesting to study the link between stress/heart attacks and the increasing dependency on PCs. But I digress.

food for thought

Read an article about the relationships of alpha females in The Times this morning and found a few excellent soundbites.

Recent academic research shows that "for every 16-point rise in a man's IQ, he is 35% more likely to marry, while for every 16-point rise in a woman's IQ, there is a 40% drop in the likelihood of marriage."

"One cannot, in any shape or form, depend on human relations for lasting reward. It is only work that truly satisfies."
- Bette Davis, 'alpha female', 4 times married

Comments?

so close, yet so far

Today felt like a shit day. After sitting an exam in the early hours, I failed to kick start my brain for the rest of my working hours. I couldn't get anything done and was constantly on the verge of falling asleep. But perhaps I only thought it was shit because in comparison, yesterday was a great day. I was extremely 'useful'. But after some reflection, I realised that yesterday, for the first time in a very very long time, I remembered Madrid. I didn't just remember it, I felt Madrid. I felt the streets in the afternoon sun of spring, la gente pasando por todos lados, the dryness of the air colliding with the colours inherent in the people and food, the provincial merging with the cosmopolitan. I felt Madrid as I remembered it and the utter sense of vibrant well-being that I will always associate with it.

Today didn't turn out as I had hoped. 5 days of revision followed by a thorougly un-productive day, I wanted to have drinks with my friends. But my 2 closest were not to be there. And so a potential celebration turned into me laying on my bed, drinking Shiraz and losing myself in the music of 'Solaris'. I soon realised I would have felt this familiar feeling of alienation and half-disappointment regardless of how the night turned out, regardless of the presence of my closest friends. Because I'm like that. I still don't know why, but I am.

I wish I understood what I am looking for. But I also realise that if I did, I would have no purpose.

on love

It was the men I deceived the most that I loved the most
- Marguerite Duras

Love that is not madness is not love
- Pedro Calderon de la Barca

True love is like ghosts, which everyone talks about and few have seen
- Francois de la Rochefoucauld

Love is the child of illusion and the parent of disillusion
- Miguel de Unamuno


Love has been a recurring topic of late. I don't attribute the focus to the passing of V-day as it's one of those holidays that I forget until someone else reminds me.

More and more I've been accused of being overly-practical, pessimistic, jaded, even a player. And increasingly I spew verbiage to reinforce that image. Words that I don't believe fall from my lips, the voice of a dissimulating persona that camouflages another who revels in tragic romantic fantasy. I absolutely LOVE watching films like 'Moulin Rouge' and 'Devdas' and 'Out of Africa'. For a few hours, my Hollywood-shaped idea of love is gratified. And afterwards, I want to hurl the DVD out the window because I feel I've been cheated, lied to, led to believe in a concept of romantic love that is impossible in the world in which we live.

I will admit, there are flashing moments of blinding intensity that keep the romantic alive. But then there is the other 99% of the time to deal with. Are we to simply live for those moments?

food habits of the City worker

I have succumbed to the ultimate London City worker stereotype - Marks and Sparks. After grabbing drinks with a colleague, it struck me as brilliant the idea to go to Marks and Spencer's for some variety. I emerged with 3 ready-made meals. But I consoled myself with their claims that there was no artificial additives.

melange of thoughts

I watched 'Born into Brothels' tonight. I find it strange that one minute, I can be staring at the balance sheets of companies with assets surpassing trillions of euros and the next, I'm watching the most adorable, shy, bright, and repressed kids growing up in total shite brothels in Calcutta. Kids endowed with wisdom beyond their years and the ability to see beauty in so many things. Having spent several months searching for a charity to contribute to regularly, I have found it.

There's a kid there, Avijit, that reminded me of my brother. They have nothing in common except the -jit names and the unfortunate memory of being particularly pudgy ladoos as children. I don't speak to my brother as much as I would like to and I think that situation will grow worse as we progress along our unique trajectories. Our's wasn't the happiest of childhoods (whose is?) ; our nuclear unit, adrift without roots in the wasteland of America, was bound together as much by our un-stated love as by the scars and secrets we inflicted upon each other. My brother and I shared so much (despite his occasional desire to suffocate me with a blanket) and I don't wonder if anyone could possibly understand me the way he does.

I'm told (subtly) over and over again that at some point in our lives we choose our partners over our families. This case was never as clear-cut and extreme as it was for ho-bot. However, my family never imposed that choice on me. Perhaps that is why I don't think I would ever be capable of giving that satisfaction to a partner; or rather, a potential partner would be out of the running if I felt at any moment he couldn't pass the litmus test of my family. Call it disillusion with relationships/love, a destiny of solitude, or insane loyalty. Call it whatever you like. As much as my family pisses me off, they define my existence completely.

take it as it comes

It's only 22:00 but I've been in my PJs since 20:00. At this moment in time, I'm just being perpetually bombarded by information, jargon, reports, emails, computer applications, and compliance issues. I wake up at 5:45 to be at work for 7:00 and I leave between 18:00 and 18:30. I work on the credit research team with about 15 others, predominantly well-seasoned European men between the ages of 30-45. It's not good, it's not bad, it just is. I'm still in the excited phase but learning is painful. Or maybe it's just staring at 3 computer screens constantly for 10 hours.

I told a friend that I'm really glad (and lucky) I waited this long to begin working, especially given the intense nature of the work because now I have the perspicacity to not get overwhelmed by the fact that I don't know shit and there's tons to do. I just do what I do and if I fuck up or it doesn't work out, at least the ride is/was interesting.

my life as a suit

So tomorrow marks the beginning of my working life. I ironed a shirt for the first time in...I can't remember. I've spent every evening (and beyond) since my return on Friday morning in the company of friends, good food, and moderate libations, all-the-while traversing London - from Spitalfields to Notting Hill to Brixton and back again. I don't think I could be better prepared.