The Day In Bed

I wake at 7am, in the cool dewy morning air. I fall back to sleep and wake some time around 10am. I make coffee and prepare muesli and return to my room.

I, essentially, spent the day in bed. Lovely is was too… nothing I like more, locked away out of sight, with my balcony doors open letting in fresh air and a hint of the world going on around me.

I read about Meryl Streep’s Iron Lady and about Margaret Thatcher. I don’t know, it seems too much, caricature, reminds me of Faye Dunnaway in Mommie Dearest, although I’m sure I am probably wrong about that. Of course, I've only seen the trailer on the net.
I read about a new Marilyn Munroe book being released. Some Australian photographer who lived in LA for years and who photographed Marilyn for a good part of that time. I think about her and decide to watch some of her movies. I've never been so fascinated by her in the passed, but more lately I have.

I head to the video shop to get Marilyn Munroe docos and movies. JFK’s women, The Story of Roman Polanski, Who Killed the Electric car, A few good men and Atonement… I’d like to watch James McAvoy masturbating.

I finish reading and watch the rest of A Few Good Men.

It has been hot all day… but it begins to rain and then it is muggy and wet… warm, but cooling with the pitter pat of rain on everything.

Sam texts, he is fine, everything is okay. He is waiting to go through Indonesian customs… with his 6 kilo over the limit hand luggage and his two laptops.

Sebastian comes over to watch TV with Shane. I don’t feel like watching TV with them. I don’t want to watch Captain America, which is what they are watching. Or Sherlock Holmes, which they watch first.

I stay in my room watching my dvds. It’s lovely. I’m so comfortable. Or is that too comfortable as Sam says? I’m happy watching Who Killed the Electric car.

Mark calls, he and Luke are loving it up there. He says the two of them often look at each other and say, “We really live here.” I love Skype.

Anthony has called twice. I call him back. He has had his landlord there who wants him to clean the garden. The landlord seems unsympathetic with Anthony’s two broken shoulders. It upsets him.

Sam texts again, he is on a train with his sisters and his nephews approaching his home town. His arse is sore from all the sitting whilst travelling, planes, trains, etc. I suggest that perhaps I could rub it for him, he says I could.

Anthony calls again. He has had a glass of white wine, for the pain of course, and he is suggesting that I do the same. I head downstairs and get myself one.

Sebastian makes a fantastic prawn salad, late, around 10pm.