My life as an expat

Long, hot days in Tbilisi, capital of Georgia. It's difficult to navigate around the keyboard, but otherwise I'm having one hell of a time. The city has all the decay and ambiance you could wish for, and my Georgian contacts are ever so lovely. I've also made some new friends, the pride of British judiciary. And with the embassy as my base camp I need not fear anything. Maybe just the sun, which has been unforgiving today.

I just read that Al Franken won the election as US senator from Minnesota. The election was last November so it was about time a winner was pronounced you might think. Franken is a comedian who, after writing Bush bashing books, decided to become a politician himself. As a Democrat naturally. I don't know how he will be as politician but as a comedian he can be very funny. My favourite Franken joke is from when he was a guest at David Letterman and talked about his new book tour. He said that he was doing it together with Bill O'Reilly (the right wing bully from Fox News). "I'm doing my book, and Bill his, Living With Herpes".

Now there's a thunderstorm over Tbilisi. I must go and watch.

The Long Day Closes

The week in Britain was so very quick and so very rewarding. I met all the right people and did so much fun. Whilst going from one place to another, always in a hurry, I thought that it's typical that I don't have time to see or do anything Londonish, and no time for musicals or plays. But then I remembered that I will soon go back. And be very close to London for three years. I hadn't thought about that before, but when I realized it the strongest feeling was, I think, a feeling of relief.

This week has been warm and summery, but my idea of not be at work didn't really pan out. As it turns out, there's a lot involved when quitting your job. It's in itself a fulltime job. Rats! But soon, soon, I will actually be able to experience something of this summer before it's over and long gone.

But it hasn't been all work and no play. Yesterday was actually rather decadent with a two and a half hour lunch with the very lovely Sue, followed by a couple of hours with Maeby and Lisa. Maebs was more intense than ever and this time she already had her ball in her mouth when she greeted me so as not to waste any valuable time before we went out in the park.

And now I'm at home, listening to the music of Georges Delerue and thinking that maybe I should have some tea before bed.

Maher on Obama

http://link.brightcove.com/services/player/bcpid6555681001?bctid=26316540001

I agree with what Maher says. But maybe Obama is just waiting for the right moment to strike.

St Andrews and the Middle East

St Andrews might be exactly what I'm looking for. Been here one evening and one whole day and it's been most satisfying, in every way (well, OK, the cleaning of my room has not been most satisfying, but other than that) and I believe I could be very happy here.

Iran is in turmoil. Imagine if Ahmadinejad was forced to give up and Mousavi became president. What kind of message would not that send to the good people in the Middle East and to that Arab street? No one knows what kind of president Mousavi would become, but he would represent something different. And what if he and Obama started talking. The people of Iran deserve much better than what they've got. More power to them!

In Lebanon the losing side in the recent election gracefully acknowledged defeat. When will every country in the region (or in the world for that matter) be as civilized as that?

Follow what's going on in Iran at Andrew Sullivan's blog: http://andrewsullivan.theatlantic.com/

Children of Iraq

I actually started crying on the plane today when I read this article in The Economist about Iraqi children killed or injured by the Americans. A perspective on collateral damages. This was the worst part...

"In one hospital, a young boy, with both his arms missing, was the sole survivor when an American missile crashed into his family’s farmhouse. “Will I get my arms back?” he asks Ms Jaber. “What about my hands?” Nearby a weeping grandmother sits beside a little girl wrapped in bandages. Another American missile had hit the car in which her parents and their seven children were fleeing danger in Baghdad. They were all killed except for the little girl and her baby sister, who had been thrown through the window by her burning mother."

Iraq’s children: Saving the orphans The Economist

Rain through my windows

It's been raining for three days and the window in my bedroom is not taking it anymore. There's water on the floor. What's up with that? Is there someone I should call? For the moment I'm settling for an antirain dance. And tomorrow I'm leaving. Trains and planes will take me to St Andrews where I will wine and dine and check out the scenery. I will feel at home because it's raining there as well.

Now I have a real craving for chocolate. Do I have any? No. Can something be done about it? Yes. Must I leave the apartment and go out in the rain in order to do something about it? Yes. Does that sound like something that's going to happen? No. Is Mad Men on soon on Kanal 5? Yes. OK, so let's watch that instead. Yes.

Night of the Hunter

Today I've been playing balls with Maeby in the rain. I think it's fair to say that she was more amused than I was.

I've also been listening to four actor students do a reading of a film script. The first time I've done that and I liked it. Script developing is something I think I might like, and also be good at.

I've been so stressful lately it's made my neck and upper back stiff and it hurts slightly. Need to relax, need to get a massage. A long warm bath would also help. That at least I'll have tomorrow. And there shouldn't be any reason for me to be stressed tomorrow. But I don't always need reasons for that unfortunately.

I'm thinking a lot about what I will write when I get to St Andrews. The thesis is of course the main thing, but I have so many other ideas. Ideas for articles and essays. It's going to be so much fun and I think it's safe to assume I won't be able to wait until September. As soon as I quit my job in three weeks I'll probably start writing. I'm already writing down ideas.

It's a shame about the election in Iran. Ahmadinejad has not been a good president, neither for Iran nor for the region. Too much hate mongering and bad economic policy. They all deserve something better. Or did they all actually vote for him? I had a look on his blog by the way but it seems he hasn't written anything since 2007.

No, it's too late now, my political musings will have to wait.

Elaborate

is how you spell it. At work I all of a sudden completely forgot and the only thing I knew was that it wasn't spelled alaborate. At least that's something.

The eleven days of the Bergman festival in Stockholm are over and I have time to breath. Very busy day at work though. I haven't slept well lately either, mostly due to all the excitement. There's so much going on all the time everywhere. When will I get my rest? In July? I hope so.

I have exactly four weeks left at work, two of which I will spend at the office and to abroad, on the field. And then, come July 7, I will no longer be employed. Things will change. And it's a change I feel very strongly. My whole life, everything will change. It's exhilarating. And a little, scary? No, not scary but, weird.

The Wind, the Wipe and the Wit

What's with the wind? It's a perfectly nice summer evening, sunny and warm. But you can't be outside because the wind is too strong and ruins everything. Especially if you're trying to read a paper or a magazine.

I've for some time had a list of things I needed to do. But I've been procrastinating, for no apparent reason. Today I decided do to all the things that were on the list, and it took my maybe an hour. I could now either complain about the fact that I didn't do it before, one thing at a time, or applaud the fact that I did it all at once, in a focused and effective way, and that I did everything before deadline. I settle for the second choice.

I'm this very minute listening to The Hollies on Spotify. They are very very good, and I wonder how wellknown they are today. Bus Stop, We're Through, Hard Hard Year, Stewball, Very Last Days, It's You and the somewhat cheesy That's My Desire are among my favourites.

Yesterday I got very good news at work, moneywise. Now I can really relax during the summer, and possibly do that Malmö to Brussels to Louvain-la-Neuve to Paris-trip I'm thinking about. That would be something.

And now I want my tea and chocolate.

(Oh, yes, The Wind, the Wipe and the Wit was a catchy title I came up with many years ago for an essay about David Lean (the wind), Akira Kurosawa (the wipe) and Joseph L. Mankiewicz (the wit). But should one write an essay just because one is ridiculously pleased with the potential title?)