Sunday

2.28.am. I got up and had a wee.

I dreamed that I was giving someone some discounts on goods I was selling so I took them into Sam to check the price and he was in bed with the coffee machine all in pieces all over his chest and stomach.

I went back to bed.

I dreamed about smoking joints. I was somewhere where everyone had to leave, or clear out in a great hurry. I managed to take the big bag of pot and the joint rolling stuff. Our departure was so chaotic that I realised that no one would have known who took the huge bag of pot and the joint rolling stuff. Then I was home in my bedroom in my family home. I was having great trouble rolling a joint, they all kept failing. Someone came into my room, I’m not exactly sure who this was? Was it dad? Was it my brother Will? Was it some male figure. I finally got the joint rolled, after many attempts. I was very pleased with myself for grabbing all the pot and I had it safely put away in a cupboard. Then I headed outside to smoke the joint. The male figure came with me, followed me, questioned me. I had trouble getting outside, but eventually I made it, after several walls dematerialised and then rematerialised again. 

I was about to smoke the joint when there was someone in the lane (my family home’s garages came in off a laneway next to the house) at the gate. The male figure said, “It’s your mum.” The gates opened in a concertina fashion. She was in her brown Subaru Forrester (my mum never had a Subaru) and Tobias Beecher, actor, real name Lee Tergesen, with a full beard was driving.

11.35am. We drive to The Hive with Bruno. It would be too wet for a walk along the Yarra after 24 hours of rain.

11.40am. We’re parked in Nicholson Street.

It is post rain, water puddles everywhere all over the footpath.

Sam heads in to do the shopping. Bruno and I walk up Victoria Street. We follow a black and white Pomerthingie dog, not a Pomeranian but a Papillon... further up Victoria Street than we intended. Oh, you know, when you follow an ugly dog you kind of get mesmerised by its ugliness and lost in your thoughts wondering how anyone could own such an ugly dog. (It's a grand thing that we all like different things, hey?)

We walk all the way to Ferguson Street in which Jinda is, one of our favourite Thai restaurants, to explore any laneways that are there, we have time to kill, but there aren’t any laneways to explore, so we cut through the yoga studio’s car park like we have many times before but alas the gate is locked on Hoddle Street so we have to retrace our steps back down Ferguson Street cutting through the laneway almost at the end of that street to through Hoddle Street. 

We walk along Hoddle Street to Langridge Street where we meet up with a couple walking a Golden Retriever that seems to be scared of Bruno, initially. after which Bruno gives it his best whatever attitude and we walk to Nicholson Street and then to Minh Phat, after Sam messages asking where we are.

12.14pm. Bruno and I are back at Minh Phat watching the groceries, while Sam shops some more.

12.30pm. I take the groceries to the car. Sam takes Bruno to the pork roll shop to get pork rolls for lunch. There is always a queue at the pork roll shop, and I should be there to take Bruno before Sam progresses in the queue into the shop itself.

12.37pm. I’m at the pork roll shop. I just get there in time to take Bruno’s lead out of Sam’s hand, who was at the head of the queue, as he stepped inside the shop.

There’s a cute young barefoot blond guy drinking straight from a goon bag waiting in the queue. He bends down immediately and says hello to Bruno.

Bruno is so funny. Next in line were a couple, the girl from which knelt down to say hello to Bruno and while he says hello for a minute, as is so often the case, he just turns away like he has little interest.

The cute young barefoot blond ended up chatting to, and humouring, everyone in the line, you know, as drunks do.

12.57pm. We’re back at the car.

1.05pm. We’re home to a torrential downpour.

What is with all this rain? It has rained for two days straight. Enough already.

Still, it gave me a chance to take a blanket to the couch and watch a movie. What else do you do on a rainy Sunday, I ask you?

I watched Tigerland, about recruits in training for the Vietnam war in 1971. 

1971. A nation stands divided over the escalating war in Vietnam. Thousands of young Americans lie dead on foreign soil. And at Fort Polk, Louisiana, thousands more prepare to join them. The spectre of combat hangs over the men of A-Company, Second Platoon, as they enter the final stage of infantry training. They will be sent to the war. But each man deals with this prospect in his own way. One man's defiance, however, galvanises every member of the platoon.

It had a handsome cast. Collin Farrell. Mathew Davis. (who I couldn't help but imagine as boyfriends, but that's just me) It was good, in fact, it made me tear up at one stage. So, it was more than buff young men hanging out in their white undies, as the homoerotic review said.

And the weekend drifted away.