Saturday, November 21, 2009

And you give yourself away.

Languid.
I have nothing to say anymore and it is frustrating. I read how observations and enthusiasm flowed out of me while I was in Ireland and I want to feel that way again.
There's no real excuse for my moaning, I just need to look at my current surrounds through a new lens. Somehow.

Elton.
I was emailed a few months ago by Concert Live to work for them again at Elton John's Red Piano Tour at The O2 in Dublin. The show was at the end of October and of course I couldn't go. When I emailed an apology to my boss, she said be sure to let her know when I'm back in Dublin. That sent my heart racing. The simple suggestion, words on a screen, that I'll go back.

The Hand Of God Part Deux/Douche.
Everyone is infuriated by Thierry Henry's blatant handball in the box during the second leg of Ireland vs. France in World Cup Qualifying. His hand parried the ball to his foot and allowed a tight cross to be finished by a header by Gallas (in aggregate induced overtime) which crushed Ireland's hope at the World Cup. I was watching a shitty feed of it at the time. Some pixely Italian sports channel was streaming into my laptop that afternoon. It crashed and I reloaded. It crashed again. It's mocking me as I scramble to find a new link. I reload. It's frustrating to not be a part of the excitement anymore: The atmosphere of a bar at night with good friends, ruckus supporters and flat screens everywhere. Now I am lucky to be able to stream any link of a live match into my computer, rarely in English. I've gotten it down to a bit of a science: listen to the live English commentary from bet365.com while muting a feed of that match that is often in another language.

In disbelief the world watched. Everyone in the planet knew it was a handball except the 4 people that mattered - the officials. I momentarily paused my English commentary and watched/listened to the feed. "Oh SCANDALO! SCANDALO!" And that for me more than anything else highlighted the absurdity of the rules presently. There needs to be either more officials watching the game, watching the goal line (this has already been presented) or I even skeptically suggest an introduction of replay technology at the fingertips of the officials for Challenges like in American football. It's heartbreaking for Ireland that they were literally cheated out of playing in the World Cup.

Now.
Thanksgiving. I haven't seen my sister since St. Patrick's Day in Dublin. I don't think I've been together with my family since Christmas. I'm looking forward to it.

I'm gaining back some reference of time and the way it has been measured in my past. The familiar tick-tock of student life at Rutgers makes my understanding of time consistent. Mid-terms. Halloween. Thanksgiving Break. Then classes end. Then my birthday. Then finals. Then Winter Break. Ad nauseam. The monotony is stifling.

Lastly.
I think everyone should watch this. It is intoxicating. One of my favorite songs of all time as well.