Saturday, December 31, 2005

dog sniffing

Sniffing around at the last minute

All over for another year. Tick off 05 into history. All done, never to return. (blink and it will be 2105) I hardly get to mourn the loss and I have to be back at work… by the 04th, boo-hoo!
I decided that I wanted to go out and take drugs and dance for the night, without a care, swan song for the year passed. Swim on the breeze, groove mindlessly on the beat. Float - boom chicka, boom chicka. Sunrise.
I asked Tim if he could get me drugs. I knew it was too late, when I asked, but you never really know, if you don't ask. I hate people who ask at the last minute, so normally I wouldn't. But, what if Tim said that they only went in the afternoon to pick them up. What if he said he was just on his way? He could only say no too.

SMS. 9.51. (Tom) How are you miss? – Christian
SMS. 09.58. (Tim) I guess, you’ve already got stuff for tonight? – Christian
SMS. 10.09. We have… what did u need? – Tim
SMS. 10.15. I thought u probably would have… I just thought on the off chance if u hadn’t – Christian
SMS. 10.16. But… what were you after – Tim
SMS. 10.19. 3 e's – Christian
SMS. 10.20. What time will you be back? Will see if we can arrange it, but will need some money – Tim
SMS. 10.22 In an hour? – Christian

I can be any where in an hour, if party tricks are to be picked up.

SMS. 10.22. Ok will ask – Tim
SMS. 10.32. How hot is it down there? – Christian
SMS. 10.32. I haven’t left the house. Not game to – Tim

I drove down sometime around 11am. I decided that if I was going to do it, I should just get going. Leave... and hope.
I had just driven up to the roller door. I had, literally, just pushed the roller door button.

SMS. 11.35. Sorry can’t get on to anyone… think it might be a bit late – Tim

Ah! I just wanted to close the roller door again and drive back to Bolago before anyone saw me. What am I doing here without drugs? Bugger!

SMS. 11.47. Hi there, I am doing okay. How are you? – Tom
SMS. 11.52. Good. I could go to RawHide, if we’re not going to the Laird? – Christian

Sometime later… (I broke my own rule and called Guido at the last minute)
Pills got, tickets sorted, ready to go… and it is a million degrees down here, I think I’m going to die. Even dying my hair and having a shower hasn’t helped much. I feel like if I took drugs and danced in a confined club, I’d stop breathing.
Oo baby, it’s hot.
Then I got to thinking about being in Prahran for New Year's Eve… and the possibility of not being able to get home... when I wanted to, when I so chose. Taxi’s New Years Day?
I think I just want to take drugs and dance at The Peel. Close to home. All that return trip nonsense out of the way. I wanted to do the same thing, no matter where I was. Close my eyes and listen to the tunes.
I think I really want to go back to Bolago, where it will be gorgeous tonight.
And then I realised how awful I’d been, after Tom cancelled I just naturally went into drugs/dance mode, but Manny was coming to the Laird too. I just forgot about him. I guess, it’s, subconsciously, that I know he wouldn’t take drugs and go out dancing.
I just called him. Surely he isn’t at the gym, it’s 40 degrees.
I close my eyes and stop for a minute.
Just lying on my floating bed with Manny, listening to the cool, sounds of the forest... is, suddenly what I'd like to be doing. I hold that though, wonder why I didn't follow that idea. A boy’s entitled to change his mind, isn’t he? I try to convince myself.
Shake head. Open mouth, exhale and make uggling noise with my cheeks. Ah!
Just take the drugs, the club will be air-conditioned, dance till 7am, catch a tram, if you have to. Manny is, probably, not likely to even show up. You’ll, probably, get a taxi in the morning, wherever you are. You normally have taxi-hailing charm.
Oh, I don’t know what I want to do.
I'll send an email to Josh.
Nicholas went to Raw Hide

SMS. 20.10. Love you all, thanks 4 a great 05. Have a great night, see you in 2006 x – Leah and Stu
SMS. 20.25. B4 the sun sets on 2005, before the memories fade, B4 I get drunk and lose my phone may we wish you a happy & prosperous New Year – Tim

Tim and I went to the Peel, you know, like buddies do. Mates.

SMS. 23.18. May the New Year bring joy and delight darlings xxoo – He-who-shall-never-be-mentioned

Friday, December 30, 2005

night time drive

The calm before the storm

SMS. 8.27. Not much happening in Melbourne anyway – Tom
SMS. 9.21. Lying on my bed reading. Life’s hard – Christian
SMS. 9.35 Yes thanks love! How about you? – Leah
SMS. 9.45. Big. Lots of family. Cooked for 30. And now it’s too damn hot! But it’s cooler in the country than the city – Christian
SMS. 9.52. So where r u? – Leah
SMS. 9.48. They are worried my transplant is failing – Tom
SMS. 10.23 Bolago… and it’s lovely – Christian
SMS. 10.24 (Tom) Fuck! – Christian
SMS. 10.24. They always say the worst thing first. We will see xxx – Tom

I called Tom, he was in the Alfred waiting room. He doesn’t know what’s going on. It is wait and see time, I guess.

SMS. 10.35. Might come down next weekend 2 c Wilma-Joan. R u around? – Leah
SMS. 10.45. Got a wedding next weekend – Christian

It’s hot. Too hot to lie on my island and read my book, even. My phone was out of space for new messages. Marina (Con and Lila) and Elaine (Marina’s sister) were out the front, in the garden, chatting to Luke, as I cursed, as I realised the message space problem. I had to fess up - to storing all of my sms' in my journal. But, as it turned out, Marina keeps a journal and does something similar, to me, recording her sms’ in her journal. Perhaps, I’m not completely alone in my madness, after all. It is comforting.
I retreated, in doors. Besides, it was coolest behind the computer in the office.

Con was the first Asian boy I really turned on to. (That's not entirely true, I had had sex with Asian boys at sex clubs) He's buff and he's strapping and he was the first Asian boy I really lusted after what-was-down-his-pants. You know, dirty, sweaty.... Just by the by...

SMS. 14.19. (He-who-shall-never-be-mentioned) Happy fucken Xmas – Christian
SMS. 14.24. (Shane) Did this good girl wish that bad girl happy Xmas? How remiss! I hope you and bad girl Mark W. survived it – Christian

I read Dead Europe on my bed for the afternoon, sweating to a nice, shiny sheen, until I had to strip my T-shirt off and chase a breeze. The garden was beautiful, in the evening. At the end of a long summer’s day, when the sun had gone down, feel the residual glow. Luke and I help Mark do some pruning and some plant removal.

I watched TV until late, the death of Marlyn Monroe until 1am, after Mark and Luke went to bed.

Then I got inspired and wrote some of my script until 3am, at which time it was still a warm summer’s night.

Thursday, December 29, 2005

beach boy

It's nice lying here

It was a gorgeous afternoon, the sun lay across the lawn beyond my window. I decided that I want a bed with windows around two sides; just glass as a bed head, just glass up against me as the day turns to night. So I can lay on my stomach and just gaze, unhindered, at the world all around. 180 degree view. Garden stretching away, as far as I can see.
I switched on my phone, it had been off for a day. Oops!

SMS. 16.02. Hey Christian, you want to go out for a drink tonight? Will be back in two hours – Tim

I had two messages from Nick. Ring me, ring me. Urgent!

SMS. 17.54. What? You’ve decided you’re gay? – Christian

I spoke to Nick. He’s good, coming out of his self-induced seclusion. It’s his New Year’s resolution. We spoke briefly about Silvia R.

Have I mentioned that Nick and Silvia Romero were seeing each other, quietly, for a time. Silvia was the first girl since Nick's post divorce seclusion. But I digress...
I said that Silvia had said nice things about him. But, when he asked me what, the only thing I could think of was that she had said that Nick had the most perfectly shaped penis. It just didn’t seem the thing to say, at that moment and really, I had nothing else. I must tell him that straight girls and gay boys do girl-talk… and about him. That’ll rattle him.
Of course, he wanted Guido’s phone number.

SMS. 18.05. (N) 040x 1xx 2xx – Christian

I spoke to Manny who told me that it was 37 degrees in Melbourne today, 36 yesterday, 38 Friday and 39 Saturday, ooo! There go my plans for going home tomorrow, I suspected. 23 Sunday… maybe I’ll go home Sunday.

SMS. 21.02. I’m @ Bolago in the, apparent, cool. How was the isle? – Christian
SMS. 21.03. Fantastic… I’m as red as a choir boy’s moisty… ps two messages from Manny. He wants to know where u r and your mobile no? – Tim
SMS. 21.29. I just spoke to him. Gave him my mobile no for the umpteenth time. Must come down and smack his arse. Prob see you tomorrow – Christian
SMS. 21.30. Ok. C U then. May come out with u New Years… I don’t want to go to Raw Hide, not my scene x – Tim

I tried calling Tom, but he wasn’t answering. I haven’t spoken to him for a week, despite him leaving a message, bad Christian.

SMS. 21.46. (Tom) Miss? – Christian

I lay in the cottage and smoked pot and lay on my bed with only one candle burning. Michael Jackson (Off the Wall) and then Roberta Flack lulled me to a relaxed place. I so wanted to gaze at the sky and the stars outside, but it was too dark.

SMS. 22.01. (Tom) Been writing script. Lovely and cool here. Was coming home tomorrow, but now Manny has told me the temps in Melbourne, maybe I’ll come home Saturday. I’ll see. Haven’t decided. Did want to come home tomorrow, but being a petal with no aircon, scared I might melt – Christian

Note to self, get your fucking aircon regassed!

SMS, 22.06. (Shelly) Did you hang tinsel on it? I did. 10 metres – Christian
SMS. 22.12. (Rachel) So that’s it then? – Christian
SMS. 22.14. (Leah) Did you have yourself a merry little Xmas? – Christian
SMS. 22.52. All over bar the shouting – Rachel
SMS. 22.57. To next year, then – Christian
SMS. 22.57. Off 2 Adelaide 2morrow but Fabio limped home with a hole in his side, guts protruding, so now we sit & wait 4 operation result – Rachel
SMS. 23.04. I’m lying in the cottage with one candle burning listening to Roberta Flack. Very chilled. Good luck with the cat – Christian

I sms’d Rachel, Leah, Shelly, but not Jill. Don’t know why?

SMS. 23.12. (Jill) Are you melting yet? – Christian

Because she never answers… that’s why. I can hear Josh Gale saying, Turn it up, luv. Or put a new battery in it. You... you do it. Jill explained why she doesn’t answer her calls, because her new blackberry/gizmo phone has such a soft ring that unless she has it by her ear, she can’t hear it. She's tired everything to find the volume control, to no avail. Techno Jill.

(Ed note – Jill tossed her fully loaded, super blackberry out of the car window in Kingsway, watching cars pulverise it to nothing, after she missed yet another call regarding work contracts, because of its, apparently non-adjustable, soft ring tone. She’s back, happily, using her old Nokia)

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Is it only Wednesday? Yes, Wednesday? It is Wednesday, isn’t it? Yes it is, Wednesday. Wednesday, it is. Only Wednesday. Wednesday, all day. How lovely.

The sky is blue, the sun is shinning brightly and the garden shimmies, in all its glory, fair sparkling in the hot summer sun. Colours to the sky.

And it's only Wednesday. Did you know? Wednesday. Yes, Wednesday. Only Wednesday. It's only Wednesday. How about that? Wednesday. Just turned. Middle of the week. That's all it is. Wednesday.

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

sausage in the sun


I want the days to drift. I was glad that I drove up here, last night. I could have spent these next days at home, on my own. I was feeling alone, already, as the day shifted yesterday afternoon. The first day? My tiny piece of earth, in view from the couch. Somehow it felt nothing but depressing, strangely. It never really felt that way, usually. Perhaps, it is the time of year; families and togetherness seeps into your psyche, almost unnoticed. Maybe? Who knows?
The country is so much nicer, in the heat. It is good honest heat, like a long, hot summer’s day should be…and at night, it is cool. It’s not repressed, contained, bitter heat, like the city.

Monday, December 26, 2005

Boxing day

You know, Mark’s mum, Margaret, has treated me different for quite sometime... since Luke became Mark’s boyfriend. She never, now, kisses me hello or goodbye, although she does with Luke. She seems kinda uneasy around me now, seemingly never sure if I get her love or not. I don’t think she would have kissed me hello or good bye, Xmas day, if I hadn’t planted one on her, as they left.

It’s made me uncomfortable for quite some time. But then I thought, we are asking her to accept Mark having another boyfriend, while he still has me. Gay guys don't really get it, and I'm expecting a seventy-something woman to be cool with it.

It’s not that dissimilar to how (fat) Debbie, Mark’s bot-off-whoever-she-can-sponge-off cousin, treats me, although (fat) Debbie is more pointed about it. She made the fatal mistake of giving me orders like you would with the staff. When she got it, realised what she was doing, from my reaction,she just continued to treat me the same way. At which point, I took issue. We haven't, exactly, had the same relationship as we did before, since.
I think Deb has issues with me being at Bolago, getting waited on hand and foot, I think was the impression, where Maggie is just shedding brain cells. Poor luv.

Maggie said quietly to Mark, We’re not taking Lottie home, are we dear?
No, Christian is, said Mark.
Oh that’s good, dear. I don’t think Rich (Mark’s notoriously grumpy father) could have stood to listen to the story of her husband dying all the way home. (I'm wondering, just lately, if Maggie is cunningly using Rich, as the excuse, to get out of things she doesn't, actually, want to do?) There’s a grand Methodist attitude for you… and it’s Xmas. God luv 'em!

I’m sorry, but I just don’t think Maggie… Marg… whatever her name is… is the nice one, she is cracked up to be. Perhaps, it’s not Rich, after all, from who the three kids got their selfish streak.
Do you think... do I think, that Marg demonises Rich to further her own sainthood?

SMS. 15.32. (Nick) Happy Xmas big boy – Christian

Me, Mark, Luke, Jeff, Raymond, David and Nick Timms went to see The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe… and apparently it was half funded by the American Christian Right.

The beautiful Sebastian couldn’t have helped but notice me staring at the bulge in his pants, afterwards at Jeff and Raymond’s, when we were all sitting around talking. As we all departed, he was keen to get my number so he could come and stay for a few days. You know, that sparked off untold fantasies in my head. Sebastian's motive is only to save money, of course.

I fell down the back stairs, after coming home from buying papers for another joint. My be-sandaled feet became twisted in the hose across the stairs and splat, down I went on the ground. Face down, flat out. Like a pedestrian felled by a car. Caesar with all of those knives in his back. Britney Spears home from a night out. Mr MacGoo searching for a contact lens. Hugh Jackman waiting for John Travolta to stick it in his arse. Take your positions for the final moment of the Xmas weekend, Ladies and Gentlemen.
I laughed. This is what it's come to? This is always how it always finishes, more often than not. The crazy paving smelt salty. I licked it to prove that it was. Spit! It was.

SMS. 23.26. Its good girls who keep diaries… The bad girls never have time – Shane
SMS. 23.53. I never kept one in the nineties... when I became a bad girl – Christian

Sunday, December 25, 2005

The Xmas Angel

show us your sack, Xmas Angel

So this is Xmas

SMS. 00.16. Merry Xmas BB! Luv u – Shelly
SMS. 00.32. (Jill) Merry Xmas – Christian
SMS. 00.44. (Shelly) Yeah, Happy Xmas to you – Christian
SMS. 00.44. Thank u darling – Shelly
SMS. 00.44. (Rachel) Yeah. Wrapping fucking presents – Christian
SMS. 00.45. Me 2… thank God 4 alcohol. Fuck, where did all this shit come from & just how many kids do I have? Mince pies, yummy – Rachel
SMS. 00.47. (Shelly) Ho, ho, ho – Christian
SMS. 00.48. Ditto! – Shelly
SMS. 00.49. (Rachel) Merry Xmas – Christian

I woke in the cabin – cabin, cottage, it all depends on my mood – early, in my big bed, floating above the ground, that’s how it feels, like a Gilligan’s Island hovercraft, a floating – velour plush – island all of its own. My floating, sleep island.

So this is Christmas? Soft colours of the forest imbued my vision, until I'm sure my corneas had turned green. Oh yes, they are green. Silly me. Inside out… it’s like the bush inside out; being inside the cabin on Xmas morning. Wattle and gum trees.

I had no idea what time Mark and Luke had gone to sleep, I left them wrapping presents, in the house. I stood in the middle of the lounge, after wrapping my presents, watching them both busy and just felt tired. (shut down sequence had begun) My weeks were catching up to me, it was the night before Xmas, and I needed to sleep.

SMS. 8.29. Merry Christmas Christian xxxx – Tom

The masses would be arriving soon.

I was going to drive down to get mum, drive back, drive her home afterwards, then drive back up and then drive down again tomorrow. But Rich and Marg were, practically, driving right past Lottie’s door. But no, too hard. And then I got her to stay the night.

SMS. 11.19. Ho Ho Homosexual Xmas. Joy to you! Hope you have a great day. Love always Lauri and Leroy xx

Lunch was a family affair. Traditional family roast. Ham, pork, crackling, lamb, mint sauce, the usual fair. Roast potatoes cooked in the Aga. Yum! Plum Pudding, caramel sauce, ice cream and whipped cream.

I watched (niece) Kellie get short with mum – as I’d seen her do a number of times during the day – as they were leaving, as Kellie sat in the back of the car, as Kellie wanted the salt, at the table. Then I saw her face change and I watched her really make an effort. Gill turned to me and said, "I’ve explained to Kellie about being nice and about the inheritance." Gill beamed.

I was taken a back. Lost for words. "Well, you could just talk to her about being nice... for no reason."
Jasus! I thought.

SMS. 17.33. Merry Xmas to you too. Happy New year. Big hugs and kisses. Lots of love Christian

We watched Operatunity.
Of course, everybody sang. You can't be a true family memeber, if you can't sing.

SMS. 22.10. Merry Christmas and thanks for the birthday message – Jill

Saturday, December 24, 2005

Nothing much

I lazed around, pretty much, and did nothing. I’m making allowances in my guilt, now a days, for working full time, when I’m not at Bolago. Working weekend functions. And for doing everything for nothing – in fact, often it costs me money. If I go to the shops for supplies, I’m the only fool who pays for it himself. So now, I can laze guilt free.

Mark, not so long ago, in a stressed moment, asked me what it was that I ever did for him, now? I was a bit taken aback. If anything, I thought I could quite legitimately being asking him the same question; when I come up and worked at his functions, often picking up supplies on the way, I'm working seven days a week.

Funny, that I don't usually think that way, as I enjoy it. I only think that way when I am challenged.

SMS. 20.59. Getting the Xmas spirit, making mince pies and drinking brandy. Ho, ho, ho – Rachel

What do I do? In fucken deed!