dampish fishtank massage Pacific pigeon freak

Hey. Well, things have been going pretty well here, in this place – the Capital city of the most isolated country in the world. It’s Friday, and for we poor slobs who live from 6pm – 7:30am Monday to Friday, plus weekends, it’s like being on the verge of a religious epiphany. In this part of the world it’s Autumn (as opposed to what seems to be the rest of the world – even Australia’s still practically in the middle of Summer), which means shitty, overcast days and a general dampish feeling in the air. Still, from where I’m sitting, if I crane my neck around about 50-60 degrees, I can see one of the Picton ferries coming into the harbor, catching the sun. It’s pretty peaceful.

I splurged last weekend and bought myself an all in one fishtank (well, I did have to get a heater). It’s very, very cool, and has rocks and plants and even water in it, which has been nicely aging over the last week. All I need now are some fish. My parents are coming to stay at my place over Easter (four day weekend!!) and mentioned they might bring me a fish or two as a housewarming present!

I don’t have any major plans for the weekend, aside from using my voucher for a half-hour massage tomorrow. I’m booked in for 11:30. Mmm…massage! After that I’m meeting Daph and Graeme at the Black Harp at 1:00 for lunch. (They’re using their vouchers from 12-1, then we’re going to use another prize voucher Daphne won at the Black Harp.) Should be a cheap day! Can’t go wrong! I’ve also got a pile of books I intend to work my way through, plus there’s Italian study for the test we’ve got coming up on the 9th, and some Old Icelandic translation and reading to do. I’m actually considering doing just Old Icelandic next semester. I love Italian, but at the same time, it’s going to get more complicated as we go along, and I am going to start running out of free time. I can just see it now. Plus it would only mean one day up at uni per week. Not that I don’t enjoy it up there, but it gets rather stressy when you’re constantly trying to get back to work etc. etc.

Travel is on my mind again, especially now that I’m a permanent employee here and thus eligible for a nice 4 weeks worth of holidays per year. I really want to save it up and then use it for a month’s holiday somewhere. But where? I’m thinking maybe the Pacific somewhere. Rent a place for a month and hang out.

This from Monday’s Dominion Post:
Pigeon Gets A Gong
A Royal Air Force pigeon that delivered the first news of Allied success from the Normandy beaches on D-day – June 6, 1944 – will be recognised as the greatest pigeon to have served its country. Gustav, a grizzle cock pigeon, will be honoured in a London exhibition at the Imperial War Museum’s 60th anniversary show. He will get the Dickin Medal, the animal equivalent of Britain’s highest military honour. He died when his breeder stepped on him.

It’s about half four and time is ticking (initially wrote ‘tickling’) by slowly. I’m really looking forward to tonight. No plans, just some reading, writing, gin and tonics and a little Old Icelandic translation. Most of my weekends have seen something similar.

Aedan is apparently in NZ – in Wellington – at the moment, over from Ireland. James went out for dinner the other night with him but I decided not to go. Sometime back during the time I was in Dublin we had an incident where he asked me at lunch if New Zealand had an IT industry. I said “no, we ride around on sheep and use abacuses.” He stood up and picked up his tray and said “everything’s always a joke with you!” and stormed off. He didn’t speak to me again – what a freak. Nobody else could believe it, and I didn’t think it was worth the hassle to try and figure out what his problem was.

Ben’s also coming back soon – in a month, I think? And I even got an email from Brugt recently, saying he was also coming over, sometime in November, to try and get work in a mountain hut. Nice. So it would seem that leaving (for the moment) is not all that necessary – everyone seems to be coming to me, these days.

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