If I were a tree among trees, a cat among animals, this life would have a meaning, or rather this problem would not arise, for I should belong to this world. – Albert Camus.

How depressing. Still, it’s better than most existentialist stuff, which as far as I can tell is primarily about teaching people to use double negatives in every second sentence, and generally confuse the c#@p out of everyone.

Almost half the year gone, and life is, as per usual, good. Nothing too calamitous has been happening – I’ve been training lots, and most of the news in my world consists of the minor changes in timetabling, technique, and the general gossip that circulates around the kwoon. Yep, kung fu places are called kwoons, not dojos. I know from experience that if you try saying it out loud then people will look at you strangely – it’s not a word that flows into conversation. Work proceeds as per usual, steadily growing and going well, with no recent accidents of note to relate. We’ve had some amusing things out of the Indian bureaucracy, but you really have to deal with them on a regular basis to find that interesting, and it’s the morbid sort of interest, like rubbernecking at a traffic accident. Requiring 500 page manuals signed and dated on every page is an example of the sort of stuff they do. Beyond that, about the most exciting thing happening to me is that I’m having my heating fixed. Maybe it’s time to plan another holiday – anyone find the idea of trekking across the Kokoda trail interesting?

I did find myself suffering from small world syndrome recently, which is a somewhat strange tale to relate. I was in a Yoga class, as I’m wont to do on a Monday, and someone stuck her head against the portholes the training room has, in order to see what we were doing inside. I realised that I vaguely remembered her from about six years before, when I tried to kill her fish. Naturally it was an accident, I bear no ill will towards our fishy friends (except dolphins). It was early in the morning at a party, much alcohol had been consumed by all, and my weapon of choice was . You see, it turns out that the particular house the party was at contains a pond that is shaped roughly the same size as him, and is nigh invisible at night. I forget the exact impetus behind why I pushed Ollie, it was probably because of a smart-arsed remark that I may well have deserved – the only problem was that he was getting up off one of the pond’s retaining walls at the time, and the push, friendly through it was, sent him straight into it. At the time I thought my new found discovery of a pond in the backyard was all highly amusing, especially with drunk people staggering around the back yard looking for fish that might have been displaced by the impact, however I can see where their owner might not have shared my good humour. Fortunately, no fish were harmed. Strangely enough, I related all this to one of my instructors, and it turns out that he was there that evening as well, about 5 years before I met him. Small world.