OK - not so much of the sunny as it's already the end of November (or thereabouts). ...and I still haven't got myself a replacement job.
Let's hope that these language books can keep me company in the meantime - although, I have to say, I'm not doing very well at actually speaking any new languages... Rather, my current situation is: being able to think of words that have similar bases in French, Spanish & Italian and sometimes finding rhymes despite crossing language barriers. It's as though I'm some sort or 'polyglotal' poet (but not in a 'buona moda') - which, let's face it, there's not much of a call for now, tomorrow or yesterday. Perhaps that's my calling - to make a new post-millenia movement in multilingual poetry!
Let me give it a go:
Il y a un bon homme qui s'appelle Tom,
Who roamed often with largish lapells on,
Fue a la blogspot,
Pour ecrire, "A biento*t*",
But all fue mal pour les mots le mandaron...
The less said the better...
Thursday, 20 November 2008
Wednesday, 27 August 2008
End of an Era...
It's the end of August and I'm leaving Oslo...
The prostitutes that populate the main stretch from Oslo station to the palace will have to find someone else to pick on every time I go for a walk; I've even avoided that street and they've nearly addressed me like an old friend elsewhere. At the end of a Friday night, navigating Oslo thoroughfares in order to avoid the regular cliques of them that seem to congregate at tiny cafes and at corners, was at first a minor hindrance, then a game, then a disappointment for humanity when you saw how unfriendly they, and others, could become.
Anyway: I'm going back to the UK to find out what on earth has been going on since my departure... "I'm sure it's all good - I wouldn't have had it any other way. Although if it knew I was trying to 'have it' it might have tried to avoid me!"
See you all soon....
The prostitutes that populate the main stretch from Oslo station to the palace will have to find someone else to pick on every time I go for a walk; I've even avoided that street and they've nearly addressed me like an old friend elsewhere. At the end of a Friday night, navigating Oslo thoroughfares in order to avoid the regular cliques of them that seem to congregate at tiny cafes and at corners, was at first a minor hindrance, then a game, then a disappointment for humanity when you saw how unfriendly they, and others, could become.
Anyway: I'm going back to the UK to find out what on earth has been going on since my departure... "I'm sure it's all good - I wouldn't have had it any other way. Although if it knew I was trying to 'have it' it might have tried to avoid me!"
See you all soon....
Saturday, 28 June 2008
Pub Opera
I popped down to my local bar and nurtured my £5.30 pint of beer - any beer at that price should be coveted to a degree.
It was a dark and dreary 8:45pm - something akin to mid-day in the UK. It was at this point that a slender dark haired girl sauntered across the small bridge separating the doorway from the main bar and lent seductively on the railings, her single shoulder exposed (why she only had the one shoulder is another story entirely).
She had caught my attention (between her teeth) and eyed me as if she were on heat. I checked I had dressed properly that morning and as I looked back up to give her that inquisitive, "What are you looking at?" smile, she started to sing.
Initially I was a little embarrassed for her, I often have this affect on women but it had rarely given way to a full blown expression of their feelings through song. Opera, no less. For a moment I was concerened lest it be something from Madame Butterfly - I've not seen it, but I think it ends with a woman jumping from a height - with this girl's current location on that bridge I was ready to grab her...
Thankfully (although equally sadly), it turned out to be something else entirely and no grabbing from either party took place.
It was, as you might have guessed from the title of this minor blog entry, opera night at the local bar... The young lady in question was followed by at least a couple more singers who had come direct from the Opera House to ply their trade in the sawdust of their local bar; absolutely fantastic!
It was a dark and dreary 8:45pm - something akin to mid-day in the UK. It was at this point that a slender dark haired girl sauntered across the small bridge separating the doorway from the main bar and lent seductively on the railings, her single shoulder exposed (why she only had the one shoulder is another story entirely).
She had caught my attention (between her teeth) and eyed me as if she were on heat. I checked I had dressed properly that morning and as I looked back up to give her that inquisitive, "What are you looking at?" smile, she started to sing.
Initially I was a little embarrassed for her, I often have this affect on women but it had rarely given way to a full blown expression of their feelings through song. Opera, no less. For a moment I was concerened lest it be something from Madame Butterfly - I've not seen it, but I think it ends with a woman jumping from a height - with this girl's current location on that bridge I was ready to grab her...
Thankfully (although equally sadly), it turned out to be something else entirely and no grabbing from either party took place.
It was, as you might have guessed from the title of this minor blog entry, opera night at the local bar... The young lady in question was followed by at least a couple more singers who had come direct from the Opera House to ply their trade in the sawdust of their local bar; absolutely fantastic!
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