“Nostalgia is good when kept in reasonable doses. i know people who never managed to break away from the past and more or less live the same lifestyle. good times, but you have to move on.”
Copied verbatim from Skype to living memory. I love the people I meet.
Let me prefix this post by saying that generally I agree with what’s to follow. Rules are rules and such. Where I disagree is the general disdain and (apparent) inability for those with the authority to communicate with the people who, duh, pay for their right to be so condescending.
[Updates below.]
A few years back I took the liberty –as those with a capitalist slant are prone to do –to start a sole proprietorship (SP) in Slovenia. The process was poop simple: head over to the tax office, provide the necessary ingredients, set up a bank account and voila!, you’re good to go. The only odd point I encountered was that they wouldn’t accept my ever-so-English sounding “Elements” as a name. I sarcastically substituted the s with an i and was done with that xenophobic argument. I don’t earn a lot of money through the SP; enough to basically pay the (ever increasing) taxes and costs of running the business itself with the taxes involuntarily directed to the local mayor’s office –the lower case m is intentional –I digress for a later rant. Anyhow, I could do with a bit more money through the SP, but hey, it’s something.
The thing is — for what is probably a typical Canadian situation where family distribution is measured in hours, even days — my grandparents were the happy glue of the family. We’d only have the larger get-togethers on special occasions; Christmas being the main event. If it wasn’t for Nick & Vera driving the course between their six children, I’m certain we would have lost touch. We certainly wouldn’t have a sense of “family.”
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You know the kind. Small and cute; if it was a few pounds heavier it would probably be cuddly. Nice little guy. I fed him some horse sausage.
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It’s been one-hell-of-a stressful few days. Sitting here on the terrace, looking at nothing; hearing nothing; my mind went momentarily blank. It should do that more often.
Also, I’m pretty sure I just saw two crickets humping.
The things you see when your eyes are open.
As I look around the landscape, I see so many start-ups from here that just seem to have their shit together. It’s not just that they’re making stuff that actually works, they’re also doing it sexy. I stole that term. Allow me to explain.
My day job — these days — is hacking Java. Well, that’s an understatement. I’ve been writing what is best described as some form of multi-platform, embedded system for a MysteryProjectThatImSwornToSilenceOver with some really cool people WhoImNotAllowedToMention. It’s an audio-visual experience involving joysticks and touch-screens; it keeps my left brain in tune. My night job is, well, multi-lobal funk.
It was our first trip to Canada as a family. Nataša and I were a bit nervous. Travelling overseas with a one year old is not for the faint of heart. But! It was necessary: my family hadn’t yet met our daughter Nyree and it had been years since I myself had been back. As it turned out the trip was a little-more-than extraordinary. It was something you’d almost expect to see on an American Soap Opera.
… and finds a colleague he hasn’t seen out for a while. The colleague invites him to a night of drinks but his wife is expecting him home soon for dinner.
I was in the process of moving some of my wife’s archives from position X to position Y when I stumbled across this jewel. It’s a tourist pamphlet of Ptuj circa 1987. I found it interesting enough to warrant a quick scan-and-post.
The cover page is actually quite nice. Could be reused. Hint. Hint.