Fireworks

I ran into Flo the other day. For those not in know, Flo was the only other Burgher who I knew in Melbourne, though I'd really only say that we properly met one another in Melbourne. This is the first time I've seen Flo since coming back, and it was nice to have a tangible link to that year, especially since she echoed many of the same sentiments I've been expressing recently: it feels like longer than four months since we left; it doesn't feel like we were there for a year; it seems like it didn't really happen; and, most importantly, Edinburgh feels like a goddamned fridge-freezer in a way that it just didn't before we left- Melbourne has stripped us of our ability to withstand the weather here in the frozen wasteland that used to be Scotland. This last one is particularly interesting, because Flo is from Dundee originally- so it's not just me with my inferior English blood being a wuss; doing a year abroad actively changes your genetic make-up and makes you better than other people more susceptible to changes in temperature.

Another unexpected side-effect of my time in Aussie-land is that I have a newly acquired disdain for Christmas decorations. Seeing them out of context (i.e. in a land which is pretty much green all year round and where it's light and hot during winter), made me start to view them in a completely different light. And I now can't help but harrumph when I see weird blue star shapes in the windows of the shops on the high street.

Jason giving his famous Hannibal lecture about how ridiculous it is that Australian Hallowe'en decorations include orange leaves, when it occurs during their Spring.

I can't help but feel that this is the start of my transformation into that thing I hate the most: a contrarian. Those people always complaining about Christmas and birthdays and anything else that makes people happy becoming something designed to make people happy (admittedly, with the added cost of massive consumerism) rather than the original pagan festival/unmarked day/whatever. I like getting excited about silly things- it adds spice to life- and this newfound ennui is an unwelcome change.

I have had a complicated with fireworks ever since I was three years old and a firework went off right behind me while I was sat upon my father's shoulders, which understandably made me somewhat...recalcitrant towards fireworks shows.
This is a shame, because one of the few interesting things to happen in Ironbridge every year is the Power Station Fireworks Show, which is so utterly spectacular that it makes us all forget the horrible, horrible things that that station is doing to our air. I especially had a problem with the noise- I remember covering my ears and then complaining that my ears were too warm because I was wearing gloves (I cannot overemphasise how irritating I was as a child). Anyway, I eventually began to get over this insecurity and actually enjoy watching technicolour explosions in the sky, especially the one time Becky gave me a ticket to the Virgin Fireworks Concert in the park. That was just magical.
Anyway, I had a rehearsal last night, and some of the Fresher members of the panto cast were discussing climbing Arthur's Seat to view the pyrotechnics from on high and I flashed back to when I did this in my own first year and realised that none of the people I climbed that hill with- Dillon, Callie and, if I remember correctly, Rosie- are here anymore. This made me sad even though all of them left of their own free-will and, in the case of the first two, they weren't expected to stick around and it would just be odd had they done so.
Due to an essay which I am meant to be writing even now, I ended up watching the various Meadows-centric fireworks displays through the Library windows, which may actually be the perfect way to do it: with none of the noise that used to cause me such duress, and the warmth of a building that students aren't paying to heat. Lovely.

And, finally, I saw Gem yesterday. Gem is someone with whom I had a fraught relationship- she would utterly agree with me about this. However, before I left, I apologised and lamented that she and I had not been friends. She agreed, and we left with a hug. When I saw her yesterday, it was smiles all around. It's nice to see that buried hatchets don't always have to resurface.