I've been musing on the magic. Not your garden variety rabbit from a hat nonsense. No no. The kind possessed by some, that thing more than charisma, more than charm, more than looks. That zing. Orla got me thinking of this, she's a believer in the magic.
Some people have themselves the magic, an elan that can't be bought or earned or sought or cultivated, it's there or it is not. Call it a natural magnetism. I'm waffling but what's the point in trying to pin it down?
I even know some with it. I won't name them in the here and now but there are those that demand attention by the simple wink of an eye or raising of a brow.
As for little old me, I can't claim to such things myself. I'm a potterer with his plus and minus points, but I do believe I can intuit the magic in those around me. The few.
I am sober, in case you were wondering.
Christmas has passed. Went to Limerick for the family dealie, all passed without menace or malice and I'm back now in Radge Central, supping tea and preparing for another day in work tomorrow. Plod plod.
New Year's Eve approaches, and I reckon I'll do as I've done for two years now and ignore it utterly. I promise myself not to plummet to the depths of 'Celebrity Jigs And Reels' as I did last year. I'll simply pick a good film from the ever expanding collection behind my head here, buy in a couple of beverages (just a couple mind) and play ignorant to the destroyment around me. Enjoyment, you see, should be voluntary and not compulsory.
2008, the year of the weddings, awaits. By this time next year I'll probably be married by osmosis, it will simply have seeped into my veins from over-exposure to vows and cake.
I'd like certain things from the year, but I'll keep them private for now. Learning how to smoke a pipe is low down the list of priorities as things stand, but if the opportunity arises... Always good to have a skill.
Apart from that I want a year of ambition, of inspiration and yes, of realisation.