haraggan

Big Black - Kerosene



Wow. I can't believe I found this video on Youtube. I used to listen to this song constantly about twenty years ago. My friend Jason once mentioned that every time he came into my room, this song was playing. It's true; I put it on the end of every tape. It's probably the best song I've ever heard about growing up in a small town (which I more or less did). If there's a rock music canon, this song belongs in it. Of course, in this live version, you probably can't make out the lyrics... But it's the alternation between dull, monotonous and explosive music that's at the heart of the song, as the numbing tedium of small-town life eventually builds into violent release.

Edinburgh isn't a small town and there's plenty to do, but lately I've been terribly restless and dissatisfied. My job still sucks. I haven't heard anything regarding the job interview I had last week, and they told me then that they would notify the "successful candidate" at the end of the week. So either they're running behind or I didn't get the job.

Meanwhile, for lack of a decent job, it would be nice to have some other distractions in my life, but I'm struggling, there. It's been hard making friends. How the hell do you meet people in a new country? It's easy when you go to college: you're plunked down in a dormitory - not to mention classes - with hundreds of other people exactly your age in exactly the same situation. Some of them are likely to have the same interests. But when you're forty, what is there?

Mostly just work. And my job is completely solitary; I don't meet anyone there. So, two years in Scotland, and I still don't feel like we have any friends. We've met some lovely people through the weekly Dreamblade tournaments at our local game store, but there are problems - aren't there always? These are people who already have well-established social networks and friendships that go back years. We're the new kids; we just don't rate as highly as their old friends. It's perfectly natural; that's a nonjudmental statement. We're just not as important to them as they ae to us. They already have lots of friends, closer ones, and we're not the first people they think of when they want to call somebody for a chat or get together for coffee.

Plus there's our wacky schedule. I have Saturdays and Mondays off. Kristi has regular weekends. So we're only available together on Saturdays and, for most people, Saturdays are always booked up with those higher-level friends. And other times? Well, that's when the age difference comes into play... Go out drinking on a Tuesday night? Maybe twenty years ago, but I'm an old fart now. A bitter, crotchety, lonely old fart. Check back with me in a week; maybe I'll be in a better mood. At least it's summer and we have those long hours of daylight, now.

In other news, we finally got Oakley to take a couple of mice yesterday. The poor guy must have been starving. Kristi made a trip out to Fife - not exactly next door - to a pet store that stocks frozen mice. We'd tried buying them at a nearer store, and they were always bad. I tried ordering them online, and both times they arrived already partially thawed, and had gone off. Either the mice from Fife are good, or Oakley was just so desperate he'd take anything. I've got one more I'll try feeding him today. I've been feeling completely guilty and undeserving all these weeks that I haven't been able to get him to eat. If I had known it would be such a struggle, I probably would have made other plans entirely.

Fortunately, Mojo Jojo remains as happy as ever.