I was awake at 9am. I looked sideways at Sam’s handsome face asleep on the pillow next to me. He looks so lovely. I rolled over and tried to sleep. I rolled over again and tried to sleep even more. I was relaxed and comfortable, but I was awake. I wasn’t going back to sleep I could feel it. You just know that, you know. You can feel being awake, you know when it is on you, the “awakeness” has come for you. You know when sleep is coming, you know when it isn’t. I knew I wasn’t going back to sleep, I could feel it. I might as well stop trying and get up, I thought. I rolled over and gazed at Sam’s sleeping, peaceful, serene handsome face once more.
I slipped out of bed, trying to be like mercury sliding away, that fluid ooze over what was between me and an upright position. The floor boards creaked, the mattress moved, the doona pulled on my leg and pulled tight across him. He grumbled and then moaned and then twitched and shifted about, half awake, a quarter awake, vaguely awake.
“What are you doing?” said his hoarse voice.
“Nothing. Getting up. You stay there, stay asleep. Don't worry.”
"Oh... okay." Groan. Twitch. Roll over. Adorable.
I pulled on track pants and a T-shirt and grabbed my phone and my Pro and, of course, my car keys tinkled as I moved my lap top and my glasses, perched precariously on my desk, fell to the floor with a clack.
Groan, groan, roll, roll. Move legs. Move legs again.
The floorboards creaked as I stepped towards the door. And the hinges squeaked as I pulled the door open. I’d never noticed the hinges squeak before. Shrug.
He twitched again, as I became still and held my breath, but his eyes didn’t open.
I opened my laptop, after I’d made coffee. The lounge was quiet, as I sat at the coffee table. Missy came in with a meow and purred as she rubbed against me. I wrote my journal and she lay on the carpet next to me, her paws pushing against my leg.
Sam appeared at the door about an hour later, after I had drunk my first coffee.
“So, where’s my coffee?” were his first words. He scratched his head and looked bleary-eyed, one eye still closed.
Then it was muesli for me, peanut butter toast for him, coffee for each, my laptop and his iPad and the morning was “eased into” just nicely.
I got to texting Jill. I sent her the number of the electrician, yesterday, so he could check some cables for her. She can just worry about nothing, so I rather cheekily asked her if she had any evidence to back up that there was a problem, or was it just girlie fear? She answered that the potential fault involved Gordon, her elderly father. I wanted to ask her what the problem was then, but I didn’t. (People don’t like that, no matter what the reality would be) She responded by calling and asking if I wanted to go to Cosco.
I was quite comfortable sitting on the floor with my guy and, really, didn’t want to be disturbed, you know.
Shopping is a modern day evil. I’m sure it is a modern day political tool to keep us all under control. It is entertainment for a lot of people. Entertainment? I suspect it is the main source of entertainment for a lot of people, which is really just sad. That really just makes people pathetic and contributes towards the destruction of the world. It does, it is true. If the pokies are just a stupidity tax, shopping is a stupidity charge.
Read – shopping other than my shopping.
Still, I guess, it gives fat, dumb chicks something to do instead of alcohol.
When I said no to Cosco (at the risk of contradicting myself, have you ever been to Cosco? It is quite amazing!) she wanted to know if I wanted to go chandelier shopping in Bridge Road. (Apparently they are in now, chandeliers, not Bridge Road) I felt bad about saying no, declining. I should say yes to things, I shouldn’t say no… and we’d be needing lunch, anyway. So I agreed to light shopping, followed by lunch at 11.30. I said 12, she said 11, we agreed on 11.30.
We met Jill at 11.30am at Reflection’s the light shop. As I crossed Bridge Road at 11.38, I started to text Jill to say we were there and to ask where she was. I had just finished the message and was about to send it when we pushed the door of Reflections open and Jill was already inside. Amazing… for a woman who will be late for her own funeral.
It was hot, thirty five degrees.
So we moseyed around the lighting shop, with Sam pointing out clocks for me to buy. He hates the clock on my mantle piece and is always trying to find a replacement. We headed to the Tasmanian furniture shop, for a set of draws for Jill’s bedroom.
Then it was lunch at Omceo, or something like that, where I made them sit outside, because it was a hot day and inside was full of people who echoed because of the hard floors, in a steamy atmosphere. The trouble was that the wind had picked up by this stage and we got buffeted about on the footpath. I love the wind, though, it makes me feel alive and vibrant. Sam and I were fine, as we have short hair, but Jill’s hair took a battering, which she didn’t fail to point out.
“I guess mine looks like a wreck?”
“No, it looks fine.”
I lied. It looked terrible, but I so didn’t want to go inside.
Jill had chicken livers. Sam had kebab. I had duck risotto.
Then we headed over the road to the funky furniture shop for a replacement TV cabinet for Jill, which looked remarkably like the one she already has. Then into Adairs, with it’s tacky playboy bunny display. Really? Yuk? Then Urban something where Jill bought a vase in her “you know this is my favourite blue” and a dish in the same colour, neither of which she could tell where in her house they were going to go. Then the pet shop to buy the umpteenth kitty litter tray just because she liked the matching pooh scoop, I finally got her to admit, as we stood there contemplating it. Then to small Harvey Norman and then big Harvey Norman.
Then I’d had enough.
It had been hot all day until we were driving home from Richmond, when there was quite a dramatic cool change, as we waited at Hoddle Street to cross. It was one of those moments when a cool breeze gusts through and the temperature droops by ten degrees in a matter of moments. I love it when that happens, the power of nature, so magnificent.
Sam has wanted me to show him the nude scenes in Oz ever since I had told him about the amount of nudity in the show. I have told him he needs to watch the whole show and that I wasn’t about to attempt to go through to cherry pick nude scenes. He bought the dvds down and we started watching them from the beginning.
I love OZ, it is/was one of my favourite shows.
It poured with rain. Deluged. You’ve got to love Melbourne weather, love how it changes, love how there is always a cool change after the heat.
I had a Skype call with Adriana about the movies tomorrow night when Shane and Sebastian came home from Pride. So the next thing I had Shane and Sebastian on either side of me commandeering the phone call talking to Adriana like she had called them. Then I had Shane drunk and yelling in my right ear… being what he thinks is fabulous. Fuck off! The two of you. Fucken drunks.
Me me me me me me me me me me me me me, is their desperate attitude and sadly they don’t even get it.
Adriana didn’t ask Sam to go tomorrow night despite him lying on the couch behind me. I can only say it is because she is used to, or likes to, do things separately to her partner Charlie.
Oh, we’re old friends catching up and, of course, we don’t have to include our partners in everything we do. No we don’t.
Except, I kind of liked the idea of Sam going too.
Sam and I went to see a gay movie called Weekend at the Nova. We had hummed and hared about going, but, just quietly, I was kind of keen if drunk Shane and drunk Sebastian were coming back. We needed to go to Sam’s place afterwards, so walking was out of the question and we would need to be drive.
It was still raining as we left. I got flustered as it was getting late when we left, so I suggested we park in Carlton and walk up. It is hard to park around the Nova complex a lot of the time. When we got to Carlton it was raining hard, but I got flustered and parked a block away still, when we should have just parked in the under ground car park, if we couldn't find a post outside. So we ran in the rain. I didn’t think, it was Sunday at 17.30 and there were car parks close by, and me with my “close by park space” ju ju. Stupid me. There was a park just out the back as if to highlight the point.
I liked the film about two gay guys getting to know each other after, what was meant to be, a one night stand.
Sam thought it was rubbish.
We ate Malaysian afterwards in Lygon Street. I had that Malaysian dish, the name of which I can’t remember now, that, when I had it the first time, I remember thinking was something I had never tasted before, with it’s dried fish and herbs and peanuts and rice.
We drove to Sam’s house to get his work suit. It was nice slipping through the now cool early evening air. It made such a lovely change to what it was like earlier in the evening.
We sat up in bed, Sam watching OZ and me writing my journal. Sam agreed to sit up for an hour without him saying, “switch it off.” Otherwise, I was sending him to bed alone and I was going to sit up in the lounge on my own.
“Okay, I’ll watch OZ.”
I held him to it when he says he is getting tired.
“Okay another episode.”
He gave me that look, out of the corner of his eye. I love that look. It says I am on to you and I love you and you are being very cheeky, all at the same time.
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