Monday 15 July 2002

I was pretty pleased, reading the news over the weekend and drawing my own conclusions, that in general the violence associated with the 12th had been worse than last year but not as bad as expected. According to the Beeb it was the most peaceful in years, especially compared to 2001 "which was the most violent in 20 years", which fact I find most interesting as last year was also touted as the most peaceful in years and the main violent acts that did occur involved a few pre-teens throwing bricks and setting a car alight. Well hey, whaddaya know, The News can be misleading and just plain wrong, who'd have thought it?

Rather than less people being involved or community/paramilitary leaders encouraging a more peaceful outcome (which would have been more heartening, as far as I can it was chiefly that the police and army security was so much heavier and evident. As a bonus, police discovered and confiscated a number of stashes of weapons and missiles (found on rooftops in a nationalist area, purpose of missiles being to rain down upon loyalists - denied by nationalists of course - "oh no they weren't for throwing, we don't know how they got there, dear me"), and defused an explosive device in the centre of Belfast prior to the event. 

Those boys deserve medals.

There was some trouble in our area on the Thursday and Friday - some shop windows were smashed and there'd been some scuffles, but nothing major and it wasn't reported anywhere. So that's over for another year (haha, my little joke, it's never over really, July is merely the "official" bad month).

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My weekend was spent being incredibly lazy; I didn't feel so great health/pain-wise and had had such terrible bouts of insomnia over the past nights that catching up on sleep was a priority. I did manage a little housework in between serious napping; clearing the kitchen, doing the laundry, and vacuuming - I still cannot get used to referring to it as "hoovering" and probably never will - and I even scrubbed the bathroom.

Sam joined me in both housework and naps, in between brushing up his Counter-Strike skills in preparation for the big Lanwarz event at Queens Uni in August (which while that means I won't see my sweetheart for one whole day of a weekend, it also means that there will be no "Hunt" at our place in August, yay).

The best part of the weekend was a phone call from Sooz, wheeeee. So, so good to hear from her. We had a great chat, she had lots of juicy gossip, plus she's having a few days in Melbourne (my favourite Aussie capital city) before starting the new job next week. Whew. I can't wait to hear all about it.

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Sam and I spent a little time discussing what to do in the first week of August, which as I am sure I've mentioned, is big on the anniversary front. 1 August marks my first year here in Belfast; 2 August is our six month wedding anniversary, and 8 August is my birthday. It's a fairly "big" birthday, as far as I'm concerned, being 33, a whole third of a century and all that, and really I'm much more excited about it and proud to have reached it than I was about the Big Three-Oh which everyone makes such a damn big deal about. I was incredibly happy and pleased to be turning 30, and let's face it I have even more to celebrate this year. So ... plans plans plans.

I truly hope I don't come across as being all mercenary and having anniversaries for everything, and having it all be about mememememe (even though it all is), I am just very aware that these are important dates and watersheds, really, in my life, and ought to be noted. I'm not talking massive parties and loads of presents - we can't afford that kind of deal anyway - but I do believe it is important for Sam and me as a couple to note these days. And no, we have no idea as yet what we will be doing, but I'll let you know, and if you have any suggestions please write.

(I did suggest a bomb scare, in honour of my arrival at Belfast Airport back on 1 August 2001; appropriate in all kinds of ways but perhaps difficult to organise not to mention the police mightn't understand or approve the event ... )

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Sam and I have been reading the Lord of the Rings trilogy (well, I'm re-reading, and am keeping a book or maybe two ahead, whilst it's Sam's first time), both enjoying it immensely and having lots of discussions about it,  which is very cool and all intelleckshul and stuff. I'm desperately trying not to drop spoilers. We do occasionally descend into petty rudeness; the general gayness of the company, the stupidity and total lack of decent strategy on Sauron's part, glaring plot holes and the daftness of the enterprise, period. I mean, if there were giant eagles flying about, couldn't Gandalf have just flagged one down and said "excuse me old chap, would you mind giving this odd little halfling and his totally unremarkable piece of jewellery a lift to Mount Doom, and then bringing him home tout suite? There's a good lad". I mean, really.

I keep meaning to buy Sam the Harvard Lampoon's Bored of the Rings. I think he'd enjoy it. Heeheehee.

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