Being the chapter where the hero battles adversity to emerge triumphant

I turned 23 a few days ago so cheers to those who remembered- my family aside, Raymond, Muna, Marcel, Tesi and Christine I know I can count on you in a crisis!
And speaking of Marcel- the bastard found my blog. I usually dont care who reads my blog as long as they close the door on their way out, but the one person in the world I would not want here is Marcel who is clinically insane and will not pass an opportunity to tease you over the tiniest thing. Having scrawled through the archives and seen my posts about my breakup he couldnt wait to have a few things to say about it. Here is a selection of a few of his observations:
"I knew she would kick your ass to the kerb man"
"You have been weighed and found wanting"
"You see she realized that you were just another wanna-be and she can do better"
"You are a follower Minega, not a leader"
"I see you have filled your blog with failed attempts at romantic conquests"

And on and on in that vein. Yes our friend Marcel is clinically deranged and when the men in white coats come for him, I for one will not lift a finger.
Anyway on a sane level, what happens now that 23 is here? Am I now suddenly supposed so be mature and confident at everything life throws at me? Can I just stay the way I am? All these questions and more will be answered over the coming twelve months. It was a strange year though, possibly the strangest since 1988-89 (Im not going to go into THAT)This morning I was up at 8am and I turned on the TV and watched Spongebob square pants while half asleep and I couldnt properly nod off again until around 11. Is this a sign of the times?
All I want for the new year is Chelsea to start dropping some points and for Liverpool to contine their run. Is that too much to ask?
Just finished reading Scar tissue which is the autobiography of anthony kiedis lead singer of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers. It read like a work of fiction- he's had the craziest life imaginable. Much of the book is about his battle with drug addiction so it occasionaly makes for very very grim reading. Watched 'Dodgeball' last night- really really funny and clever in a subtle way.

Beer, limbo, one man's women, cards and why Humphrey Bogart was lying

On Saturday I went down to Oxford with my brother. His friends' daughter was turning two, so it was an excuse for all his friends to get together and drink themselves to oblivion. Having barely drunk any beer since I came back to this country, it was an opportunity to put that right.
Things took an interesting turn about two hours into the affair. After a few beers, I got a very strong desire to pee so I got up and started heading for the bathroom which was upstairs, but my timing was poor. There was a huge crowd blocking the way upstairs and after a while I realized why: one of the guys was shouting at another guy to 'go outside and let's fight..he wants to fight'. The other guy was protesting that no, he wasn't going to fight with him and everyone was pleading with the aggressor, but he kept insisting that his friend wanted a fight and he was going to get it if only he would be kind enough to step outside. What is it with men always wanting to fight after a few beers?
Noticing that my chances of getting to the toilet were less than nil, I turned around to go back into the living room but that too was blocked by a crowd of onlookers who had been attracted by all the chaos. So basically I was trapped in the middle of two groups of people and I really still needed to pee. The Catholic church recently abolished limbo-the half-way point between heaven and hell- but I can assure you that for at least thirty minutes that's exactly where I was.
You will be pleased to learn that I eventually made it to the toilet and once there, performed admirably but on going back downstairs I saw that things were not yet finished. The guy who was looking for a fight- his name was james- had walked in and was scolding his friend for 'manhandling me'. His friend was trying to explain that he was only trying to calm him down because he had heard him tell his female friend to 'fuck off'. Do you want her? James was saying is that what this is all about? And then he went on a twenty minute rant about how women 'come and go in my life- you know all my women...'. It got increasingly funny although no one was laughing probably for fear of also being invited for a fight outside. He rambled on about his women and said if he wanted that particular woman, then he could have her 'but I'll keep fucking her on weekends even if you get her during the week'. Erm..what was this- 'Jerry Springer'? But the comic highlight was when he got three different beer cans and began to illustrate the story while everyone else looked on in disbelief.
'This is me' He got a Stella Artois can 'and this is you' grabbed a guinness can to represent his friend 'and this is the girl' and then it was the turn of a budweiser can to join the action. Then moving the cans around he began to tell the story for the umpteenth time while his friend tried unsuccesfully to explain that this was all a big misunderstanding. I was biting my lip hard to keep from laughing-its not everyday you see a guy telling a story with beer cans. This always happens when I come down here my brother was saying I've seen worse than this.
Anyway things died down later and then there were hours of cards and a lot of good food. Soon I lost track of how many beers I drank and got thoroughly drunk. Later on at around 4am someone led me upstairs and pointed out a bed and I just passed out. When I woke up the next morning, I felt like a hamster that had been run over by a car but had not yet died of its injuries. Since I havent been drinking this term, I had forgotten just how bad a hangover could be. It wasnt funny at all. It's easy to romanticize a hangover when you aren't getting them which is what I'd been doing but when you actually drink, you realize that Humphrey Bogart was wrong when he said "The trouble with the world is that everyone is a few drinks behind". No Humphrey. If everyone else caught up, we'd be screwed.
I was also not amused to realize that the person who I ended up sleeping with was our friend James, last night's troublemaker. He started making inappropriate jokes as soon as I opened my eyes ("You don't have to check if your pants are still on...they are, don't worry") and said something about me 'calling for my girlfriend Aisha all night'. What?
I eventually staggered downstairs and watched the Arsenal-Chelsea game feeling like shit and thinking that I was almost certainly going to throw up again. 'The reason your'e feeling so bad is becase you spent all night drinking in one place and sitting still' Alex told me 'I was walking around to get the blood pumping. That's why I'm not feeling so bad'
Ok, I'll keep that in mind for next time.
'Do you want another beer?'
HELL NO!

just because you feel it, doesnt mean its there

There's a little squirrel that lives in the tree right outside my window. On Thursday, I was watching it run up and down the tree with little bits of leaves in its teeth and I realized that it was building a nest. It's making very good progress as well. Squirrels are almost annoyingly cute.
But anyway, something happened to me the other day that reminded me-incase I ever forget- that I am quite dumb. Sometimes I buy donuts at this indian man's shop because at the end of the day, he sells them at 10pence each which is a bloody good deal if ever there was one. So there was some wrapping on the side and I just took the donuts and wrapped them up in them wondering why they didn't give me an actual bag and thinking the wrapping was a bit too narrow for donuts. It turns out the wrapping was indeed a bag- if you slit it at the top, you could slide the donuts in. For about three nights in a row I had been making a fool of myself and the guy who was usually at the counter didn't even tell me anything but this guy did. Imagine putting things on a kavera instead of inside and you have an idea of the level of stupidity involved here. The man was chuckling a bit ('No my friend, you do it like this...') I imagine they had quite a laugh about it because I did.
Recently a friend of mine who is in a dead-end relationship with his girlfriend received a text message from her. it was routine, just asking how he was doing and all that. My friend was horrified. She's going to call me back as soon as I reply! He said How do I reply in such a way that she'll get the picture and not call me? We were watching a film and he was exhausted and the last thing he wanted to do was talk to his girlfriend. He drafted the message and showed it to me, but he had made a critical mistake- he had finished with a question. Listen, do you want her to call you back or what? I told him there was a little trick that could sort that out: put a question in the middle of the text message and then finish off by saying something like 'im going to bed'. That way, she won't really be able to reply since the question has been superseded by a firm closing statement and she won't be able to call because you will be showing clear hints that you are about to go to sleep. He thought that was a good idea, but somehow ended up sending the original message and sure enough she called him back and he gave me a look of utter horror when his phone started ringing. It was when he was talking to her that I realized that I had just spent the better part of ten minutes helping my friend freeze out his girlfriend by trying to craft the perfect dont-reply-or-call text message. Surely there was something wrong with that somehow.....
What I find really funny (well, funny is a relative concept here) about my friends' situation is that he's broken up with his girlfriend but she doesn't know it yet. It's happened in his mind and now he's just waiting for it to manifest itself in the real world.
Team America: Really, really funny film. The Cairo sequence is one of the funniest things I have ever seen in my life, but it does run out of steam at the end. Still worth a view.

the mythical creatures society

-...Yeah that sounds like a good idea.
-Come on people! What's yours?
-Ill be a llamacorn
-What the hell is that?
-Its a cross between a llama and a unicorn.
-I cant believe a llama is your favorite animal!
-I'll be medusa.
-Medusa is a woman.
-Yeah I know, but the whole turning-you-to-stone thing...I think that's quite cool.
-So you...alright, whatever. I'll be a fairy.
- Dragon?
-No- you could be a blue tiger.
-There's a blue tiger?
-Yeah, its very rare. Only one has been seen I think. Or maybe a centaur. Do you want to be a centaur?
-I've changed my mind actually. I think I'll be...have you read the odyssey? Those two creatures...scylla and chabridis. I think I'll be Scylla. He had about five heads.
-Right, Scylla then...
-Or maybe chupacabra! No, I'll be Scylla.
-You could be a griffin.
-We could be the abusement society
-That sounds like some kind of paedophile thing.
-Let's brainstorm...come on. Any suggestions?
-I think the abusement society is a cool name.
-Thats dodgy. We've already established that.
-How about postmodern ninjas?
-The Aristotleans?
-The gang?
-Friends of Slovenia?
-No! maybe friends and enemies of Slovenia
-I like friends of Slovenia! That sounds cool.
-Garden of heathen?

right- so THATS what I've been missing all this time ('people pushing by...and walking off into the night')

I finally went out last night. At some point-walking there alone with a light drizzle making me increasingly wet- the rational part of me was asking some very good questions like why? Why, Minega why? At the entrace, the guy turned me back saying I could only enter with a ticket, so I thought 'Phew! now I can go home...' but then this girl comes running after me and asks if I want a ticket. For some reason I say yes and it turns out she's not using hers so she offers to sell it to me. So against all odds, I find myself inside the club still confused as to how I've ended up here. It seemed like only five minutes ago my life was completely predictable and organized and now here I was in this urban jungle.
And once inside, I buy a beer and wander around looking for my friends (I only manage to find them about fourty-five minutes later) I remember at one point while choking on smoke and trying to walk through thick crowds of people whilst making sure I did not spill my beer, I suddenly thought WHAT ON EARTH AM I DOING IN THIS PLACE? In the end it wasnt a terrible night, but club really doesnt do it for me. I just keep thinking of when I can possibly go back home. It was incredibly crowded and there was an air of chaos that was like something from a war film. I felt completely out of place for some reason and I was daydreaming for almost the entire three hours I was there.
But it's quite a sight to see drunk people dance to techno. Almost worth the price of admission alone.
Two beers later- and an hour before closing time- I was finally back in my room eating the muffin and watching TV and thinking this was just a waste of money. Not that I regret going out- one of my life guidelines is to regret nothing- but I both rue and lament it.
And I missed Life in the undergrowth which was dwelling on spiders and believe it or not I really like spiders.

why my killer chimps have not yet been tested in the field of battle

Christmas formal. A few hours after the wine from the law school, and there I am getting more alcohol into my system. I realize that drinking so little this term has been beneficial in many ways, one of which is that now I get tipsy fairly easily.....
I was watching Scott McClelan the other day and I was thinking- is there a more uncomfortable job than that of the white house Press secretary? One that invites more ridicule? They couldn't pay me enough to stand infront of the entire TV-watching world to look like a buffoon of the highest order and defend a man who got outwitted by a pretzel. Infact, your weekly humour needs could be got watching a white House press conference to see Mr Mcclelan sweat and grunt his way through questions. it's a sad, sad job. Sometimes he looks like he just wants to disappear. There's a Radiohead song called 'how to disappear completely' and the chorus goes 'I'm not here...this isnt happening'. I've always thought that's a funny idea, and I can imagine McClelan repeating that to himself over and over while he's standing there.
Oh yeah, the Christmas formal. It was fun. I was a bit tipsy and everyone around me was completely drunk. There was a lot of crazy dancing. Fire alarm went off. Dodgy songs -'your'e the one that I want' may be a classic but it's as gay as hell. I was tempted at one point to unleash my killer chimps, but the time wasnt right. But whats the point of having them if they aren't going to bring me any direct benefits? And feeding them is hell.
(Paul Gascoine- someone really ought to do something.)
Actual pickup line from a friend of a friend to a girl he had never met before "Listen- I'd sit here and chat you up but I dont have the time or the patience so I'm going to cut out all the shit. There's a free room upstairs. Do you want to fuck or what?'
Absolutely dire game last night. Peter Crouch should not be a lone striker even if you are playing for a goalless draw. Djimi Traore should only be playing for the reserves. Still, why should I complain? Wer'e top of the group. As long as Gerrard keeps heading his own crosses and delivering 30 yard passes to himself, we should be doing fine.

jurisprudence with a twist

Today was our last jurisprudence seminar of the term. For the first 30 minutes, Martha Marie was going on about normative systems and whether they qualify as law. Everyone around the table was nodding enthusiastically although it was a safe bet to imagine that their minds were on other things like dinner and TV and other things that might help to warm you up in the winter.
Then out of the blue, she says 'since this is the last seminar of the term, I thought we might have a little party. How much time is left?'
Theo tells her there's still one and a half hours to go.
'Great- let's party!' and then she indicates a table to her left. I suddenly realize its covered with snacks and wine (and water which not suprisingly does not get touched for the rest of the afternoon) 'Help yourselves!'
Everyone is kind of numb for the first two or so minutes wondering if she is serious so we are kind of frozen in our seats. Is this some kind of prank? But she's getting up and pouring herself a drink so everyone jumps into action. We start filling our plastic plates and getting wine but everyone is still looking at everyone else with a look that says 'What the f...?' Within five minutes, there's a party atmosphere and everyone has loosened up.
So here I am, drinking wine in the law bulding and biting into some chocolatey thingy thinking this must be the hippiest jurisprudence seminar of all time. Andy joins me later and we have an interesting conversation. He was the quieter member of our presentation group
but he can talk when he wants to. Martha Marie is amusing the American duo somewhere in the corner-she's going to get some Christmas cards for this. If we had more lecturers like her, we'd be acing our modules! The whole thing gets more surreal as I think about it. More wine. Talking about a lot of things. Nick telling us a funny story to prove his bad luck with girls (and I assume the wine is already working on him because Martha- Marie is there when he tells it)
Four glasses later I am walking back to Wantage, a bit tipsy and thinking 'that was pretty cool for a law seminar!'. The Christmas formal is on tonight, but of course I'm not going to make it.

Continuing the lets-believe-in-romantic-love season, here is the second poem of the promised series. This one is by Lord Byron. He may have been 'mad, bad and dangerous to know' but screw me if he couldnt write a good poem.
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

'She walks in beauty' Lord Byron

I know what I know, if you know what I mean (keeping things close to your chest)

The highlight of the week was the afternoon my sisters and I spent with our demented cousin Tesi who is flying to Kigali but stopped over for a few hours and got to see Reading. We had lunch and then we all headed to all the girl shops in town. Tesi thinks and then immediately speaks- she has absolutely no pause to wonder if she is saying the right thing. This makes her very refreshing company and also makes her sound absolutely mad. She ends up arguing with herself. You know the conversations that go on in your mind with the voices in your head telling you to do this or that? Tesi actually has those conversations out loud. Anyway we visited all the female shoe stores and clothing stores as well and also saw about 1,000 different types of makeup and lipstick. It was like entering another world. Why do girls need so much choice for such simple things? For example there must be at least 500 shades of red lipstick. I had no idea it was this bad and I had a sudden dread of getting married and having my wife spend all day wandering aloud what shade of lipstick/make-up would suit her that day and if they match with her shoes. Much as I love the idea of marriage, this is certainly the kind of thing that makes me stop and think 'are you being daft?'. It was completely fascinating in a scary way. It was worth it though considering it's a one-in-a-lifetime trip and Tesi's sympathy for me being dragged on that journey was unnecessary. Not that I would do it again, but seriously-Girls! what the hell....

So Rama and I were teaching Tommy.B and his brother 'matatu' the other day and they really got into it. I suddenly remembered how cards had been such a key part of my childhood. You would sit around in a group of about eight people-usually by candlelight- and wait forever for your turn to play and some bastard next to you would play an eight and skip you. Sometimes you were condemned to being next to someone with dangerous cards and they'd keep screwing you over while you gnash your teeth on the side waiting for your moment to shine. It was a ruthless game and we took it seriously but it was fun. Before my dad discovered chess- O happy day!- it was also a kind of occasional family game and as you would be eliminated one by one. You would be wandering around the house and run into your sister and you'd be like 'Your'e out as well!' and then you would have the whole I-had-this-card-but-couldnt-play-it-and-then-I-got-screwed conversations. Cards were fun. I had forgotten all about them really until last night when we had an hour long session of matatu.
And the thing about cards is you had to be a liar- there was no other way to win. When you played an ace, you could ask for a card that you didnt have knowing that someone could then play the card you have- a clever bit of reverse psychology. On the other hand even if you told the truth you would be lying because you would be asking for hearts knowing that people THINK you are lying so they will then play exactly that and lose. To think I was making such devious calculations in my head before my hormones had even kicked in seems a bit worrying now that I look back on it, but I turned out alright in the end (although not everyone would agree)

Where were you the day Peter Crouch got his goal?

For those of you following my attempts to be re-integrated into the Ninja society- and I know there are very very many- the good news is that Oscar and Sunny have cleared my return. A minor fine of any CD of their choice was the only punishment.

I am a bit ashamed to admit that I really really like the new Girls Aloud song 'biology', but its a great song and its got about three choruses and no structure. It's the Rebel pop single.

It was about time Peter!

Go Nash!

My friend Nash is doing a 10 km backwards run to raise money for a trip to South America where he is going to do some enviromental conservation and try to stay alive. He is also becoming something of a local start in his hometown.


Somehow I shouldnt be suprised- Nash was one of the most insane people I met in Wantage last year (which is saying a lot) If anyone is going to do this, it's him.