A Life Quite Ordinary

It has been a while since I've been here; a full calender month.   Although I'm not quite sure why I started blogging (nearly 8 years ago now) nor why I maintain the effort (intermittently) here I am again.  It's vanity maybe or ego.  From time to time I tell myself I do it so I can look back and murmur, "ah yes" with something that might approach confidence in the ever-diminishing memory of an aging man of ordinary means.  Is that how one spells aging / ageing?  The spelling checker seems to think so.

It's been a busy enough month.  That's a convenient enough explanation of my absence.

In the wide world there have been monumental events, most of which I've had no involvement with or personal connection to.  Earthquakes in New Zealand and Japan; the tsunami of course.  The near-endless re-cycling of mobile phone camera footage of the terrifying destructiveness of natural forces was at times overwhelming yet utterly irresistible.  What must it have been like to be caught in the middle of it.  Up north (and down south) Australia was windswept and flooded.  But here in NSW the sun shone in our gorgeous Indian summer.  In North Africa mass movements mobilised with varying degrees of success.  Ben Ali and Mubarak fled, Gaddafi clings on (at least for now) but in places such as the Yemen and Syria the system seems to be intact and brutally resistant.  In NSW we changed Government in the usual, bloodless way. 

For a news junkie like me there hasn't been far to look to find my daily fix. 

My own life has been busy enough.  I've been in my new job for two weeks.  It seems to be going well enough.  University started again and we're now fully up to speed.  I have an assignment to complete by the 8th for my AMERICAN FOUNDATIONS course and any essay to write by the 18th for LITERATURE AND CINEMA.  Amelia got married so I wore a kilt.  Spike had her pea-pod in an exhibition at the ESP Gallery in Marrickville.  We've been to exhibitions, openings and a few movies; none of them life-changing, none entirely without merit.  I've written some poems and submitted KABOOM to another agent.  Still no success.  I have an interesting idea for a novel.  We'll see.

Amidst all the true drama of big events in a world that has far from reached Francis Fukiyama's ridiculous idea of the end of history something drives me to blog about this small, ordinary but not entirely uninteresting life of mine.  Odd, isn't it?  But there you have it.
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