The party seems to have gone really rather well

The tidying process was slow and emotional. Tidying always is. We decided that we would only go ahead with the full whack party if we could show by the Monday before that the room would be ready and OK for Saturday.

At some point on Saturday - a week before the party we were looking like this:







Mess and gunk and boxed chaos, everywhere. Very little space in which to hold a cocktail and chat.









By the next day, things were looking better, with more floor visible and more boxes although still sitting in the room menacingly, now empty. You can see a set of jugs and stuff on the bookcase now, a trip down memory lane… some of the very first ceramics I made. The number of school books and youngsters toys that I unearthed that weekend was actually quite annoying. Why had I never thrown any of this shit out before??









By Thursday before the Party - late at night, like about 3am, we had managed to get everything open right up to the balcony. We even opened the balcony for the first time in almost two years - a mistake as it turns out as we had water coming in and trying to attack vintage copies of 2000AD magazine (featuring Judge Dredd!). Fortunately, nothing was damaged.









Friday night, we had the shag pile rug down and everything clean and ready to rock. A ridiculous amount of work went into this. There is still a great amount of rubbish in boxes hidden away in other parts of the house now.









And here we are in sunlight conditions…

In the other room, we had laid out the shag pile rug from Wednesday. This had come all the way from Romania for a ridiculously small amount.









And so Saturday morning - we woke and looked into what we would be serving everyone and how all that would work out.

Fight or flight reflex

Increased heart rates and the fight or flight reflex… why?

I guess better that these physiological reminders keep cropping up than we forget that there is a different path that could be trodden.

Trapped

Trapped - trapped by our consumer-frenzy lifestyle which cannot do without the credit card-fueled trappings of urban life. Trapped by the uncertainties inherent in dropping out of the system. Not so much trapped by what society would say - no longer quite so concerned about the name and fame.

I get the knot in the stomach whenever I think about these things - the knot which is two steps away from watery eyes. It is not fair. Oh no. The Floyd, or more precisely, Waters talks about being "shown how to feel good and told to feel bad".

I drive myself totally mentally motionless with the rushing around of the ever decreasing spiral of thoughts - I want to get out of this lifestyle, but if I do, how the hell am I going to pay for the feeding and clothing of children (let alone their schooling and what have you)? I want a new car: where the fuck are the payments going to come from if I quit the life?

Unlimited wants and limited resources - every economist's bread and butter.

Except that my wants are not unreasonably unlimited. At least I don't think they are.

Party - woo!

Saturday night (feast day of St. Stylianos) I am having friends around. It is really quite exciting going through cook books to find canapes and what not.

It's been quite exciting going through all my junk in the dining room to get space opened out for the party.



I haven't had a party for more than five or six years. Very excited.

Anniversary of 17th November 1973

There's nothing like the anniversary of a public uprising to bring the revolutionary songs to radio for a day. I just don't see why this year they are interspersed with James Blunt's "You're Beautiful".

Oh well.

At least the rain should keep the anarchists off the road a little.

Goodbye, my friend

We all went to the third in Nikaia to say our farewells to Kostas yesterday. Kostas left us on Monday night to go exploring in the place we can't follow.

This struck a chord: groupie: A little bit of planning... And a lot of greed

Full text here: I keep thinking it'll be their loss in the long run, when I leave because I just can't stand the pace any longer. But then I worry whether I will ever leave, and whether me leaving will improve things for me...

I have often felt this way groupie - I don't know who you are, just stumbled across your blog some days ago. Your provider does not let people outside comment on your posts otherwise this would be up on your blog, lass. Anyway - I have often felt this way like I said. Never did manage to summon the mental strength required to leave. I took the easy way out: I just don't care any more and try to get by without dying of boredom, you know? Will leaving give me a more fulfilling life? Possibly. There will be more to write about this whole thing - tonight is my last night before going back there for the first time in six weeks. I have spent only three of the last twelve weeks at the office what with holidays and injury and still I have no appetite to go back there and listen to all the bullshit which just turns me off the work I do. I work in a service industry and it annoys me when the bottom line is more important than the service offered - you see this so often. I try to make my work as good as it can be for the client and then I hear or see things which annoy me.

Anyway - groupie, you are not alone... but then again, I think you know that already.