food and sweat and bedhopping
As far away from work as I have felt recently was probably in the middle of this:
On sunday night, me and my sisters went to Vienna (yes, abroad) for a gig or two. Until I didn't, I thought the Eastpak Antidote Tour might be a whole bunch of groups with Eastern European roots touring together, but actually Eastpak make bags and stuff. They made my bag, in fact, and I like my bag a lot. Can't find the MadeIn, but kudos to whichever EPZ low-status low-security low-wage dayjobber made it. Gogol Bordello were fusiontastic! My officemate laughed when I said I was going to see a New York based Ukrainian Gypsy Punk band, but that's her natural reaction to slight confusion. Haven't moshed fraslong as. And front man man had a system of a down streak in his oh so punk trousers. and that photo makes me seem about seven feet tall. 
They were the third band. The first was Bedouin Sound Clash, who were really very good but suffered from being the first band who nobody was there to see. Apparently Robert likes them, so here's looking at you, kid:
They played a little Clash medley at the end which started with the guns of brixton. hooray!
Disco Ensemble were fun, and the drummer enjoyed himself. Danko Jones came on stage with fists, asked us if we were rocknrollers, told us we should therefore like to fuck, and introduced his next song, about having unprotected sex with white girls. I almost cried, but it gave some kind of background to the statistics i read all day.
The other side of Joe and Esme's trip was food, mostly:
Plate for Hungry Man
Before:
After: 
And so on. Langos for breakfast, all good. I tried to do that again this morning, but none were available : (
Then on Monday, Hana came from prague, and it was all even gooder. I who never have meetings, had two meetings that afternoon, and worked as far as possible around visiting lovelies, but still had to work. which was Bad.
And it was all just great. even the sleep deprivation following me around this week takes my mind off all the work i suddenly have. I now feel able to talk about it. I'm participating in an in-depth review of an upcoming youth policy document I've been helping to prepare, and I have to provide a critical gender-based perspective as well as presenting unifem's work in the region. I felt out of my depth, but i feel a bit better today. i wrote a cute little workplan, very helpful. And i have promised me a trip once a week to the hot chocolate shop on michalska:
And friends from London met friends here, which brought a little bit of a sense that there is some overlap between the squares of my life. That's useful for me, especially since I am planning to stay in Blava for at least a couple of months in the new year. depends on the work situation - i won't probably have work with unifem, but there are other options. the odd part time thing, maybe work for the british council or the right wing english language newspaper. Or become an escort - not many tall blonde men here. 
but most likely i'll try to find some part time work with the UN based on my experience, and teach some english to actually make any money. there are also a couple of organisations i would like to spend some time with. Maybe I'll even learn Slovak.
That's all for now. Feel free to talk to me via the comment boards.
posted by chris at 9:47 AM
4 Comments:
to get the ball rolling - i realise that stuff about my work didn't amount to much. that's partly cos it's still a bit hush hush. but it's a three day meeting where i am repersenting unifem based half on what i have learned in the past few months and part on what i will learn in the next week. and i hate looking stupid, because i find myself unable to close my mouth once i've opened it. but with luck it won't be more than a dozen real experts and me, and i'll have slept well enough to rise to the occasion. like an ambling cork.
chris
recieved letter today. planted a big smile on my face. when thoughts are collected, there will be a reply.
Don't worry about Budapest. They're sending you aren't they? The self-editing thing is mostly a matter of whether you recognise it, which you do. Just try to stop at the end of a sentence.
That Joe is a trencherbabe!
He just cooked me a little dinner, and we were listening to Ian Matthews. On Seven Bridges Road I said I was thinking of Brian Cann, my BT ex-colleague who sang it at Mike Arnavutian's wedding about 15 years ago. You and I went, Joe being too young for a late evening, and Mum staying behind to babysit him. When you and I were ready to leave, you, the only child present, asked where your party bag was? Brian, to his eternal credit, went round and rustled you up a bag of leftovers.
Nothing really matters now we're gone and on our way.
and yet still...
~
mr t, i thought earlier of the time there happened to be someone's thirtieth birthday party at the place we were staying in the country in brittany when i was, you know, little. do you remember? ring me and tell me about it.
i didn't get up nearly early today to get done all i need to in time for the bloody review. i thought this task would be editing, but in fact it contains a great deal of rewriting and semi-original research. boo. but now i've worked off all my trip home... employment rights what now?
did anyone go to see ?
i'll be moving out later. wish me luck.
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