Turn Around

Two thousand and seven brought me a lot that I remember fondly, and some things I won't care to remember at all. I mentioned a couple of posts ago the joy of making friends, and the sadness of not getting a job that I'd be perfect for.

If the year two thousand and eight ends up as eventful and happy as the first two months have been, I will have very little to complain about next December.

WARNING: Familiar readers will know that I keep my blog clean and safe for those of all ages, but in this particular post there is language that could potentially offend. And opinions that could potentially offend, but you should be used to those.

At the end of last year, I was given a notice of Jury Duty. This happened to Emma not long before we moved out, and this was not ideal for her, due to her plans. However, I had no reason to object, apart from the grounds that I'd be working the equivalent of full time for no money. The courts pay out what you would have earned had you been at work. As someone unemployed, this wouldn't be much. In fact it would be nothing. I considered going on benefit, but apart from the obvious reasons, I feared that free money would remove my main motivation to get a job. My opinion of the benefit system not withstanding, I'd loath to be a part of it.

However, early in January, I became employed. Not only is the job very suitable for me, but it pays rather well. The hours could be considered antisocial, but it depends on what you call social. But I'll come back to that. I now work as a QA for SEGA Europe. Essentially, that's video game testing. That's pretty cool.

It I also am attempting to keep the JCS alive, and while that hasn't been successful the last couple of weeks, it is still happening. My job's hours go from early afternoon until ten thirty at night, and that doesn't help. But for the last two weeks, and for a few weeks more, I am on Jury Duty, which has relatively normal (in fact, better than normal) hours, and I can function like a normal person during them. Before I was required to be a member of a jury of peers, I created a club called Nighthawks, which started at eleven at night, and went on until most people were tired and left. This will most likely resume once I have finished my legal duty.

Nighthawks has meant I have more friends than before, and since I keep running out of friends because of challenging circumstances, making new ones is always fun. Except that these friends tend to be better than the ones I normally make, as I see them far more often. Every few days as opposed to once every few weeks. And not just by association, there is active will involved in meeting with them. And I can't really say that I'm unhappy with that. It's quite the opposite.

Most of my new friends are from America, coming for one semester. This calls into mind the issue of 'temporaryism', and the transient nature of most things I've done recently. But as well as this, it also helps me in my recent trend of dividing my personal history into easily manageable sections; each section identifiable by a key player, my best friend, an important event or just what I was doing at the time. Each stage could be as long as two years or as short as a couple of months, but these stages help me identify myself in what I remember. On top of helping with stages, sharing my quirks and fun with others makes every negative aspect of the year fade away.

I lost my grandfather two days ago. I should say step-grandfather, but that wasn't how I think about him. I hadn't seen him in a little over a year, not since my road trip to Ireland with Yunhae and Roan, and his death made me think a lot, as deaths within the family do. He was ninety years old, and died of a heart attack while driving to work on the farm. He was probably the toughest man I've ever known, he taught me how to use a screwdriver and most swear words I know. I would feel worse, but I know that since moving back to Ireland, he was happy, and he did what he loved. It was impossible to tell him what to do, and despite his rough demeanor, I had enormous respect for him and everything he achieved. So I can't feel too saddened by his death: I can't see him having any regrets, and I'm sure if he heard my crying he'd tell me to 'shut the hell up, Christ Almighty, that's no way for a young man to fuckin' act. For fuck's sake.'.

But despite this, and the negative results of a ninety two hour Skype phone call, life in this year has been overwhelmingly positive. For a few weeks, I had terrible aches in my cheeks because I was smiling too much. It's an awful affliction, I tell you that much. One thing I cannot seem to get over is that despite different stages, my life seems to repeat itself, in an almost perfect cycle. And that isn't a bad thing. I know that it will continue to repeat itself, maybe in an identical way, maybe not, but the outcome will be similar. But I wouldn't change that, as I try to live without any regrets, like my grandfather. And I think that since I got my confidence several years ago, I have lived like that. Aside from a couple of things, I am happy with every choice. And I would make them again as well.

Anyway, it would be foolish for me to make any predictions about the next few months, because every time I think I have my life figured out something radical happens and usually makes it better. And even if I'm shooting myself in the foot, I'm happy with limping for a bit.