Narn

To you too, you crazy creatures who decide that your news is the news for one to first hear.

As much as I want to sleep, don’t think me ungrateful....

It’s spring!

I found a bird.

He is broken. His wing is all crooked and he is fearful. I hope he isn’t more broken than he seems.

I have given him bread soaked in honey water, and I don’t know what to say to him, so I try to imagine nice, shiny, warm things that he might like, just in case he can read my mind.

I hope he is still alive in the morning.

I’ve named him Bertrand.

I listened to the Waifs’ “Up All Night” album on my walk to work today. It is the album I listened to on the night bus from Seville to Lisbon, and just as it then made me despairingly homesick, it now makes me long for the freedom of travel.

Everything in Seville was beautiful, the food tasted amazing, and the people were fantastic. I remember the flamenco dresses… the ham hanging from the ceiling… the smell of spring in the perfect gardens… the little tiles for street names… the ornate architecture… the sweet sweet wine… the sangria…

I remember going out to dinner with Tal… wondering around the deserted streets in the middle of the night when the rest of Seville was preparing itself for the religious parade on Good Friday… going to his house where he took photographs of me with staged tears pretending to be a crying virgin…

I remember spending an amazing whirl-wind day with Luis watching the parades, and feeling like I’d known him since ever… the crazy religiousness of it all… the women singing from her balcony to the crucified Christ…

I remember not wanting to leave.

But I did. And as soon as all the giddiness and intoxication wore off, I found myself sitting alone on a night bus, longing to be in the company of all those back home who knew me well.

But now, I want to go back… Oh, how I want to go back.

There comes a time when a girl has to decide:

Should I buy new ladder-free stockings?

Or should I just shave my legs?

I’m at the crossroads.

Is all about people in power making stupid decisions.

Fuck the principles…

...Let’s talk about Practicle Legal Training - the mandatory course one must do to become a lawyer in Queensland.

In order to become a lawyer in Queensland you have to do this course, or else prove that you cover all the areas covered in the course while working. “Hmmm, what a good idea”, you may say. “This will ensure a level of skill and competency in the legal profession”. I’m sure this certainly was what the law society people thought when they made the descision to put us gradutes through at least two weeks of torture.

But NO! This shite has nothing to do with anything that will make me a more capable lawyer, or a better still, a more capable person.

I do not give a shit about trust accounting, civil litigation, advocacy skills, or formulaic order drafting. If I need to do that stuff, I will learn how.

What I want to know, which is of course what the law society does not deem as worthwhile to teach me is....

What do you do when a person who trusts in you cries?
What do you do when their mother cries?
Good people do bad things; how do you rationalise that?
How do you hold on to the beauty in life when there is so much disgusting injustice in this world?