Forgiveness, so divine, so rare, so serene-making.
You might, or not, have noticed recently that someone has been taunting me, and wishing for snow to come torture poor, little, hothouse me.
However, I've adopted Buddhist like ways (never mind that it was Buddhist monk who assassinated a former (and quite dead) Prime Minister of Sri Lanka, SWRD Bandarnaike), and will forgive she who wishes snow upon me.
Yes. I Forgive. You're forgiven. Bask in my forgiveness.
And while I'm here, I might as well generally spread my forgiveness around – you know who you are. Just don't do it again, or I'll become like Talduwe Somarama.
Of the Olympics. I was told in no uncertain terms a few days ago that, "They're here! Embracethe mess, the traffic jams, the stupid people, the overly officious organizers, the overpaid, bribe-taking, well-fattened on rare and almost extinct exotic animals organizers of this consumerist corrupt movement which was used as a propaganda tool by Hitlerit, and enjoy them!!"
So I tried very hard. I was walking home yesterday in the cold and dark and was trying very hard to forgive, and find something positive about the whole thing. "After all the billions spent", I thought, "there must be something that benefits me and makes my life better!"
And suddenly it came to me – Yes, there was! Oh the joy. The tears, they came unbidden to my kind eyes (which I have to hide behind sunglasses when traveling so as to discourage vagrants, street urchins and the like from targeting me for handouts). I gushed to myself, "Why, I can now get to the airport in 24 minutes or less from work!", and "Gifts! Olympic-logo bearing things, I can buy abundant quantities of them and shower friends and families with them!"
With that in mind, I dashed down to the store that shall remain nameless, one of the sponsors. And was met by crowds of heaving humanity, grubbing over chintzy key-chains, leather place mats, salad sets, and hideous soft toys of the official mascots (in keeping with tradition, they are, as to be expected, hideous, garish, cutesy and kitsch). Then there were the signs which said something along the lines of "We are proud to only accept Visa cards", and I saw red and couldn't bring myself to buy anything remotely connected to the Olympics, and support this excuse for excessive consumption. :yuck:
I went home and looked on Expedia for outbound flights in February instead. Ah well, I suppose the train to the airport will come in handy.