24 July 2005 @ 15:44
<  Bemused >

Picture this: you're in Brazil - you're a British electrician with pot in your rucksack - you're being chased by plain-clothed men who are shouting and pointing guns at you - you run for your life - you get shot on the head, many times. Third-world, you'd think, undertrained, corrupted, ignorant policemen. Yet, here it is, all of this on our doorstep (quite literally in my case, Stockewell is a 15-minutes bus ride from our flat).

But I can't say I'm not perplexed by how I should feel about this, ideologically. I haven't got an agenda. I'm shocked and disgusted by terrorism of the "blind" sort and by the absolute power of the kamikazi. But I'm also aware of the fact that there is nothing anyone can do about it apart from protesting against the Iraq occupation - not that I see the Iraq situation as an excuse for blowing yourself and other people up, mind you but, on an shallow, selfish level, I just want British troops to come back so that terrorists leave us alone. On another level though I know that it is almost inevitable that this is going to lead to immeasurable errors of judgement, manipulations and ultimately dangerous decisions being made on our behalf in the name of security. It's a really complex issue. Can someone like me mourn the victims of 7/7 and the victims of the daily Iraq bombs without feeling guilty/hypocritical? I'm confused. And scared. Very very scared. Especially since experiencing panic on Thursday when I heard about the incidents at the Oval where I knew C. was about to get on the tube at the time the detonators went off. I didn't know they were detonators at the time, I just heard that there was a bomb-related incident and that I couldn't get him on his mobile. 10 minutes of hell, then he called and he was alright.

***

In other news, C. has got a job! He's going to work with his ex-PhD supervisor as a research associate and he's over the moon. He's starting on 1st August. Hurray! I'm happy happy happy because it means he's back doing what he's always wanted and I'm - at last - not the only breadwinner. Which in turn means that maybe, maybe we can go on a holiday at some point in the not too distant future. The house-buying business is another matter altogether, as our buyer in Greece is not very reliable (funny that!) and we're waiting to see whether she'll sign the contract. Fingers crossed but I'm not in a hurry.

Yesterday we went to see an exhibition at the RAA on the influence of French impressionism to the Boston circles. It was great, made even greater by the fact that it was pretty small. I'm getting old, can't you see? It's also demonstrated by the fact that...

... last week, I had my first facial ever and it was bliss. I have so much to talk about I end talking bollocks.

It looks like the sale of the Greek flat won't go ahead (typical!) so we'll have to stop looking again. This is so frustrating!

I've taken the morning off work today because my friend D. offered me a session of 90 mins of facial massage and treatment at this very posh, alt.med place in Holborn! Isn't that sweet? She's lovely like that. So I'm going to go there now and then go to work (which defies the point of relaxation, I guess, but what is a working girl to do, huh?)

On Saturday we arranged to have our first viewing of a flat. It was very exciting but the flat was so crap we felt a bit depressed afterwards. But it kind of puts you in a mood and it clears your head, flathunting does. You start thinking about what is it you want, what are your priorities, what is important. When on Sunday we went to see an area we thought we might like to live in, we were both pleasantly surprised and disappointed. It's so complicated! Forest Hill is nice but it's a bit suburban - is suburban what we want? I like to have shops and cafes and pub and people around. But Forest Hill was nice because it felt like a village. It was sunny, of course, so everything looked a lot better than normal. Hehe! It won't look as nice in the winter, I had to tell myself...

But anyway, we're still at a very early stage, I mean we still haven't signed the contracts for the sale of the Greek flat - so until that happens (when it happens, if it happens) we can't really do much apart from getting a taste of what's on offer. Hope it's as exciting as it sounds: our first flat.

Sorry I didn't check in on Thursday as I should have done but I had spent most of the day walking home from the other side of London that I was too exhausted to write anything here. Anyway, all's well in the girlypop household - C was at home and I was stranded in West London because, that day of all days, I had to go to the consulate to sort out some paperwork. I didn't make it to work (5 minutes away from where the bus exploded) so I had to walk home as there were no other means of transport. It took me well over 3 hrs but I was so determined to get there and find out what had happened (phones weren't working so I was imagining the worst possible scenarios) that I didn't stop at all. Not even for food ;)

I can't say I was surprised with the incidents although I was very shocked. Everyday I get on a bus to work and within those 45-50 mins, the thought that a bomb will go off crosses my mind at least once. I think I've just learnt to cope with the idea, along with lots of other Londoners. What else is there to do? It's not about not wanting "them" to change "my" routine and "my" way of life but it's all about wanting to have a life and get on with it. This is the world we live into, it's paranoid and a lot of it is our fault. How can anyone be talked into blowing random people off is still completely beyond me but then again, a lot of things are. If this is what it takes to move things forward then so be it. But I'm not going to stop living, that's the only thing I have.