Mark went by train to Geelong to get the grand kid. He was attempting to leave the house at 9.20am for a 10am train at Southern Cross. We all shook our heads. I drove him there in Anthony’s car, after a couple of joints, the 40 kph speed limit is a stoners friend.
Luke took a train to the country to have lunch with LouLou.
We ate at Killeny, in Lygon Street. We all walked there, Anthony, Mark, The grand kid, Sam and I. It was a lovely day strolling past the Exhibition Gardens. I wondered if this was how lesbians felt when they go walking.
Nasi Lemak, all around, it is still my current favourite dish. I’m not sure if Mark really liked it, as he is not really a rice eater?
Sam, Anthony, The grand kid and I played an infinite number of Uno games. It was fun. It reminded me of all those nights up the cottage with Sebastian and Shane and Anthony and Mark and Luke and how stoned we got and how mean we became. Hysterical. Anthony, in part, made sure that one element of the Uno game was preserved, even in the presence of the grand child. We went outside, we were discreet. We stumbled in again, any one older than ten would have known what the deal is. Luckily, the grandson is not older enough to pick it yet.
Mark cleaned up the back garden, he said he had resisted up until this point, but he could no longer hold back due to how terrible the garden looked. He pruned back the tired old lavender bushes and even though they are now, basically, sticks the garden looks infinitely better. Shrug. He cleaned up the paving and finished off the upper car park too. Hands in the air. Grin.
Sam and Anthony and I, took up our positions on the wicker chairs out the back, usually with a j in our hands. Anthony is a terror with the pot, “Let’s have another.” It is the only sentence that brightens his tone.
The grandkid played Uno with Shane and Tulli. Fortunately. They acted like back up. Three hundred Uno games later, we were ready to take the back stalls and stare blankly into the changing garden. We slipped out quietly, once our replacements had arrived.
We got pretty stoned, like the good old days. Why did I give this up, I quizzed myself, a couple of times during the proceedings. It was usually followed by a slip of the foot, and falling back into the chair, as I tried to get up. “That is why, you dummy. Never forget.”
At one point, The grand kid was suddenly on the stool next to me at my desk in the study, I had just broken the cigarette in the mulli and I was reaching for the dope bag, all of which, at that very point, both of us were staring down at.
Shit! I really have to do something immediately. This is not a test.
Fortunately, The grand kid was rabbiting on about schemes and ideas about defeating some, well at least to me, unknown enemy.
“What? Um! Let’s go into the lounge room and see what we can work out.”
I took him into the lounge room did a loop and thought I’d given him the slip, when he was back next to me on that same damn stool seconds later.
“Come on, let’s go back into the lounge room,” I pleaded.
I gave him to Sam with, “Can you keep him here.” Big eyes.
The mother will be pleased.
We ate $100 worth of fish and chips. Sam and I drove to Lygon Street to get it. By then I’d had many joints, and I was feeling it some what, as I eased the little Barina into drive and eased it forward to the Gertrude intersection. I mentioned it to Sam. “Goodness me.” Laugh. “Wee!” Sam gave me that look. But, seconds later, my mind had focussed, and I was scanning Gertrude Street minutely. It is just a change of perspective, when you are stoned, in the tail effects of the last joint. Ha! Ha! I can justify anything. (Ed note – those of you clutching your pearls can now let go)
One hundred dollars worth of fish and chips, goodness me?
Luke got home after he’d had dinner with an old girlfriend.
We watched a special on Bill Hicks. We a cool performer. Such a unique style. Brutal honesty. Such a waste, dead from cancer at 32, I kept wondering what he would make of the current world, not much, I suspect.
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Very Social
I was up at 9am, on a Saturday. (even if my schedule doesn’t allow for any day to be weight higher than any other) Bugger! Sam said it was the call of the "mari" that woke me. Considering, I’d been tossing and turning for half an hour before I, actually, got up, it had crossed my mind, I have to be honest. So, what could I really say to Sam? He gave me “that look” which filled the ensuing silence admirably.
I smiled.
I made coffee and rolled a joint, I had no choice, it had already been spoken off, after all. No elephant in the room this morning.
Buddy was sitting right up the very back on the garden bed, like a porcelain Bulldog. He is such a character as to where he can be sitting in the mornings. Old man face. Sad Face. Learned face. Quizzical face. There-is-something-going-on face. I’m-on-to-it face.
A cloud of smoke filled the lounge room.
I was out of muesli, damn.
The morning slipped by.
I got very hungry.
Mark and Luke wandered off while we were in the shower, something about the bank and the rest of it was out of earshot. It could have been, we’ll be gone for a couple of hours, or we will see you later, I’m not sure. Shane and Tulli are just a door click, at the best of times. Shadows at the end of the front hallway, the two of them. I was out of money, I wanted the rent to pay for lunch, so we waited for all of them, any of them. So while I was waiting for Mark and Luke any way, so I was happy to wait for the rent too.
Anthony called to confirm the arrangements, laughing and saying how fortuitous, when I told him my car was at the mechanic with an engine problem and that the parking area out the back was completely free.
“It is most likely going to be there for 3 weeks.”
“Even better,” he said. “I might visit again in that time.”
I seemed to be waiting for everyone else before I could go out and eat. We seemed to be waiting around forever. Sam is quite keen on his food, of course, and the last thing he wanted was for Mark and Luke to come back saying they have eaten. He was starting to pace.
Shane turned up first flush with the cash.
Sam and I were out the door and walking up Gertrude Street, all anxiety blown off, gnashing of teeth, exclamations of, where are they? Shrugs, wide eyes… finally free… when we laughed at the sight of each other, stopping in Gertrude facing each other, what a lather. We decided that we didn’t need to spend the money when we had leftovers in the fridge.
We had only just prepared our meal, when Mark and Luke walked in the door with a mountain of shopping.
And they had eaten.
Anthony arrived by 3pm. It was the first time I’d seen him since the induced coma… er… not that I saw him then, but right before in the pain that necessitated the coma. I had swept the rear parking area for him, as per his note, his 10 point note on what was to occur for his visit. I hadn’t made his bed, although I did have a set of new bedding to be put on, thanks to Jill.
Anthony told me that there was going to be a “private” bbq for Shane and Tulli on the 27th January… apparently, Anthony knows Alex – the second of Sebastian’s failed relationships that he has had in the time that I have know him, who now acts as Sebastian’s shadow. I should be attracted to Alex, young, good looking, Greek, but I am just not, never have been, strangely.
“What does “private” mean?”
Anthony wasn’t sure. I guessed it meant that only those people who Shane deems friends, of which we are not a part, my friends. Shane started this “my friends” thing some time ago, despite all of our extended group having known each other equally for years. I wondered if Shane was far too “look at me and my fabulous life” to pull off a “private event” really.
Anthony went into say hello to Shane and Tulli, who were hold up in Shane’s room, as per usual, and when he came back, he told us that they had a pair of children’s pull up nappies on the bed, which they tried to hide quickly, about which they said, “I’m sure you don’t want to see that.”
Anthony didn’t.
Sam and I went to the supermarket to get muesli ingredients. Oh, some habits are hard to break. It means I don’t have to think before I fully wake up, muesli and coffee are prepared on auto pilot most mornings.
Shane helped Anthony make his bed. Yes, I know, I should have, being the perfect host, we’ve known each other for twenty five years… and I couldn’t be bothered. I mean to say, who amongst you, actually, enjoy making beds.
Adriana came for dinner too. She regaled us with stories of her most recent trip to Sydney for New Year. Even the telling of the 2 gay boys she went with splitting up during the holiday was hysterical.
Luke cooked a banquet. I kept rolling joints mostly at Anthony’s request, but don’t get me wrong there were plenty of request from me, before we get the look from the chattering classes?
Tulli came out shirtless, with Shane, with some sort of apparatus on each nipple, I’m not really sure what that was about. I didn’t turn far enough around to look closely, as Tulli was standing right next to me, but I was bent over the coffee table rolling up.
I thought Shane said that they had a job on, but that would have only made sense to me and Sam, if that, is in fact, what Shane said. I haven’t told anyone that Tulli is a prostitute, I don’t know why? It seems like such a personal detail to reveal. Still, if Shane did, in fact, say that, he is not hiding the fact.
I’m sure the whole episode is just a part of Shane’s “look at me” mentality.
It was the first time Tulli had met Adriana. So… there you go Adriana. Everyone had on there bemused faces, big eyes, lips squeezed tight, when Shane and Tulli left the room.
Millie arrived with her director, of a film she is about to shoot, looking fabulous. She declined the joint, saying what she had in Federal was the last time she smoked.
She said that I was looking young, but I think that was just nerves from my much altered appearance. To tell you the truth, I was far too stoned by the time Millie got there to make any sense… of any thing.
Millie looked fabulous.
I smiled.
I made coffee and rolled a joint, I had no choice, it had already been spoken off, after all. No elephant in the room this morning.
Buddy was sitting right up the very back on the garden bed, like a porcelain Bulldog. He is such a character as to where he can be sitting in the mornings. Old man face. Sad Face. Learned face. Quizzical face. There-is-something-going-on face. I’m-on-to-it face.
A cloud of smoke filled the lounge room.
I was out of muesli, damn.
The morning slipped by.
I got very hungry.
Mark and Luke wandered off while we were in the shower, something about the bank and the rest of it was out of earshot. It could have been, we’ll be gone for a couple of hours, or we will see you later, I’m not sure. Shane and Tulli are just a door click, at the best of times. Shadows at the end of the front hallway, the two of them. I was out of money, I wanted the rent to pay for lunch, so we waited for all of them, any of them. So while I was waiting for Mark and Luke any way, so I was happy to wait for the rent too.
Anthony called to confirm the arrangements, laughing and saying how fortuitous, when I told him my car was at the mechanic with an engine problem and that the parking area out the back was completely free.
“It is most likely going to be there for 3 weeks.”
“Even better,” he said. “I might visit again in that time.”
I seemed to be waiting for everyone else before I could go out and eat. We seemed to be waiting around forever. Sam is quite keen on his food, of course, and the last thing he wanted was for Mark and Luke to come back saying they have eaten. He was starting to pace.
Shane turned up first flush with the cash.
Sam and I were out the door and walking up Gertrude Street, all anxiety blown off, gnashing of teeth, exclamations of, where are they? Shrugs, wide eyes… finally free… when we laughed at the sight of each other, stopping in Gertrude facing each other, what a lather. We decided that we didn’t need to spend the money when we had leftovers in the fridge.
We had only just prepared our meal, when Mark and Luke walked in the door with a mountain of shopping.
And they had eaten.
Anthony arrived by 3pm. It was the first time I’d seen him since the induced coma… er… not that I saw him then, but right before in the pain that necessitated the coma. I had swept the rear parking area for him, as per his note, his 10 point note on what was to occur for his visit. I hadn’t made his bed, although I did have a set of new bedding to be put on, thanks to Jill.
Anthony told me that there was going to be a “private” bbq for Shane and Tulli on the 27th January… apparently, Anthony knows Alex – the second of Sebastian’s failed relationships that he has had in the time that I have know him, who now acts as Sebastian’s shadow. I should be attracted to Alex, young, good looking, Greek, but I am just not, never have been, strangely.
“What does “private” mean?”
Anthony wasn’t sure. I guessed it meant that only those people who Shane deems friends, of which we are not a part, my friends. Shane started this “my friends” thing some time ago, despite all of our extended group having known each other equally for years. I wondered if Shane was far too “look at me and my fabulous life” to pull off a “private event” really.
Anthony went into say hello to Shane and Tulli, who were hold up in Shane’s room, as per usual, and when he came back, he told us that they had a pair of children’s pull up nappies on the bed, which they tried to hide quickly, about which they said, “I’m sure you don’t want to see that.”
Anthony didn’t.
Sam and I went to the supermarket to get muesli ingredients. Oh, some habits are hard to break. It means I don’t have to think before I fully wake up, muesli and coffee are prepared on auto pilot most mornings.
Shane helped Anthony make his bed. Yes, I know, I should have, being the perfect host, we’ve known each other for twenty five years… and I couldn’t be bothered. I mean to say, who amongst you, actually, enjoy making beds.
Adriana came for dinner too. She regaled us with stories of her most recent trip to Sydney for New Year. Even the telling of the 2 gay boys she went with splitting up during the holiday was hysterical.
Luke cooked a banquet. I kept rolling joints mostly at Anthony’s request, but don’t get me wrong there were plenty of request from me, before we get the look from the chattering classes?
Tulli came out shirtless, with Shane, with some sort of apparatus on each nipple, I’m not really sure what that was about. I didn’t turn far enough around to look closely, as Tulli was standing right next to me, but I was bent over the coffee table rolling up.
I thought Shane said that they had a job on, but that would have only made sense to me and Sam, if that, is in fact, what Shane said. I haven’t told anyone that Tulli is a prostitute, I don’t know why? It seems like such a personal detail to reveal. Still, if Shane did, in fact, say that, he is not hiding the fact.
I’m sure the whole episode is just a part of Shane’s “look at me” mentality.
It was the first time Tulli had met Adriana. So… there you go Adriana. Everyone had on there bemused faces, big eyes, lips squeezed tight, when Shane and Tulli left the room.
Millie arrived with her director, of a film she is about to shoot, looking fabulous. She declined the joint, saying what she had in Federal was the last time she smoked.
She said that I was looking young, but I think that was just nerves from my much altered appearance. To tell you the truth, I was far too stoned by the time Millie got there to make any sense… of any thing.
Millie looked fabulous.
Friday, January 11, 2013
All Go Today
It is supposed to be 39 degrees with the end of the world imminent, when we are all going to burn. The country side was going to be potentially reduced to ash, the news reports told us.
My mate Jill, since she has finished work for a time, has decided that I need to finish all the things I never finished on my house, so she is arriving today with a builder.
I have a bed room with an en suit that nobody uses and the en suit was never really finished off properly. This is mainly because there is a problem with the sink that needs to be rectified. I realised as we were doing it that the sink was wrong, so the whole thing stopped and the tiling never got completely finished. I've just let it go over the years, as you do. Jill thinks that is a crime against architecture, or my soul, or good house keeping and that it must be rectified. Immediately.
Mark and Luke are also arriving today, sometime in the afternoon. They'll be pleased with the 39 degrees, especially.
Anthony sent me a ten point "to do" list.
Jill positively bristled on the other end of the phone when I told her that the builder and Guido (one of the 10 points, I can't remember which) would be arriving around about the same time.
I did laugh.
"He doesn't wear a sign, you know. Special deal..."
"Well," her voice returning to some where around normal, "I guess not."
"And I am assuming that the builder will be looking at the bathroom and not sitting in the lounge room drinking tea?"
"Well, no," said Jill.
"So, I don't see it as a real problem."
"Okay then. I suppose."
Not to sound completely defeated, she continued. "So are you excited to be getting the finishing touches done after all this time?" (Ed note - counting on both hands, how many years?... yes, I know, slack Christian. I just put it off and put it off and some how it is now too many years later to count... a bit like life, really)
"Um... er... I see it as spending money on something that nobody is going to use."
"Oh, for goodness sake," said Jill. "Don't you want it to be finished?"
Shrug.
I have to go and pick up my car from the mechanic, at some stage. I am still sneezing and snuffling and coughing... nearly gone, but not. Damn it! I'm still sniffling.
Yay for me.
My mate Jill, since she has finished work for a time, has decided that I need to finish all the things I never finished on my house, so she is arriving today with a builder.
I have a bed room with an en suit that nobody uses and the en suit was never really finished off properly. This is mainly because there is a problem with the sink that needs to be rectified. I realised as we were doing it that the sink was wrong, so the whole thing stopped and the tiling never got completely finished. I've just let it go over the years, as you do. Jill thinks that is a crime against architecture, or my soul, or good house keeping and that it must be rectified. Immediately.
Mark and Luke are also arriving today, sometime in the afternoon. They'll be pleased with the 39 degrees, especially.
Anthony sent me a ten point "to do" list.
Jill positively bristled on the other end of the phone when I told her that the builder and Guido (one of the 10 points, I can't remember which) would be arriving around about the same time.
I did laugh.
"He doesn't wear a sign, you know. Special deal..."
"Well," her voice returning to some where around normal, "I guess not."
"And I am assuming that the builder will be looking at the bathroom and not sitting in the lounge room drinking tea?"
"Well, no," said Jill.
"So, I don't see it as a real problem."
"Okay then. I suppose."
Not to sound completely defeated, she continued. "So are you excited to be getting the finishing touches done after all this time?" (Ed note - counting on both hands, how many years?... yes, I know, slack Christian. I just put it off and put it off and some how it is now too many years later to count... a bit like life, really)
"Um... er... I see it as spending money on something that nobody is going to use."
"Oh, for goodness sake," said Jill. "Don't you want it to be finished?"
Shrug.
I have to go and pick up my car from the mechanic, at some stage. I am still sneezing and snuffling and coughing... nearly gone, but not. Damn it! I'm still sniffling.
Yay for me.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Getting Up And Doing Things
I felt a little better today... kind of. Besides, I had to take my car to the mechanic by 9am'ish, they don't open till 9am. The car's been missing on a cold start, chug, chug, chug, running on 3 cylinders for the first 15 to 30 seconds. I think I got there by 9.15, not bad since I had to drag myself out of my sick bed. Cough, cough.
It was a lovely sunny day, gorgeous. It was a lovely day to saunter up La Trobe Street. I always like the city as it is just getting going in the mornings.
It was a lovely sunny day, gorgeous. It was a lovely day to saunter up La Trobe Street. I always like the city as it is just getting going in the mornings.
I met Sam at 9.30 for breakfast, which we had at the Queen Vic Market. It is a good job Sam has, as he'd only been at work for an hour. We had Middle Eastern, yum. It is nice around the Vic Market, almost European, kind of. I could live around there, if ever I decided to live in the cbd. I wonder what it is like on “market days?”
I sneaked back – actually, I’m not sure why I sneaked back, but I did – and ate muesli and yogurt and drank more coffee and luxuriated in the open windows of a café on Queen Street and read the newspaper leisurely for an hour, or so. Lovely. It was a lovely day.
I walked home in the sunshine, still coughing, through the park. Ah, fresh air and sunshine and the blue sky, makes you feel alive, even if you are not feeling 100%.
Wednesday, January 09, 2013
A Day In Bed... That's What My Mum Always Told Me
I spent the day in bed... with my Buddy, my box of tissues and my lap-top. Every time I sneezed, Buddy would stretch out to me and lick me, or look at me concerned, as though he was asking if I was okay. I ended up with tissues on the floor all around the bed and my Buddy's head on my leg looking at me with his big brown eyes.
Tuesday, January 08, 2013
I'm Sick
I've got a cold, my nose is wet and running and I am sneezing. In fact, it all seemed to start last night with a sneezing fit in the kitchen, before which I felt kind of fine. It came on that suddenly, just like that. Then this morning I felt, kind of, fine, okay enough to head out to lunch with my mate Jill, you know, as you do.
Then after Jill had left, I just started feeling worse and worse and worse, so I took to the couch.
Now my nose is blocked, I am sneezing, my head hurts, my neck hurts, strangely, my foot hurts like hell and I feel like shit.
Bugger!
Then after Jill had left, I just started feeling worse and worse and worse, so I took to the couch.
Now my nose is blocked, I am sneezing, my head hurts, my neck hurts, strangely, my foot hurts like hell and I feel like shit.
Bugger!
Monday, January 07, 2013
Is that Mad Behaviour?
Shane, so often, when he comes home from work, empties the contents of the kettle, refills it, invariably, to the top, puts it on to boil and then heads to his room never to return.
Almost every night.
Is that mad behaviour?
Oh, who cares, but I do think it is weird.
He moves out in four weeks, so that will be that. He's moving to Europe with no money, so that should be very interesting. (Read, in my opinion, a disaster) I wish him well and I hope he conquers the world... but somehow I doubt it.
Go on, off you go, is my constant thought.
No, I am no longer interested in what you are doing. No, really I am not.
When I ask Shane something, for details, he has this habit of focusing all of his self importance into one attitude and, what would have been a relatively boring set of details, becomes the biggest drama I have ever heard.
Yes, sadly, I am over living with him. Go on, off you go, discover the world, have a fabulous time... but, go.
Almost every night.
Is that mad behaviour?
Oh, who cares, but I do think it is weird.
He moves out in four weeks, so that will be that. He's moving to Europe with no money, so that should be very interesting. (Read, in my opinion, a disaster) I wish him well and I hope he conquers the world... but somehow I doubt it.
Go on, off you go, is my constant thought.
No, I am no longer interested in what you are doing. No, really I am not.
When I ask Shane something, for details, he has this habit of focusing all of his self importance into one attitude and, what would have been a relatively boring set of details, becomes the biggest drama I have ever heard.
Yes, sadly, I am over living with him. Go on, off you go, discover the world, have a fabulous time... but, go.
Saturday, January 05, 2013
We Went And Got Buddy
We got home at 11pm last night and almost immediately got into the car and drove an hour into the country to my sister's farm to pick Buddy up. Well, I wouldn't leave any other loved one alone on his own, so why would I leave him? My sister and her family had left for Europe that morning to go skiing and he would have been okay until the morning, on his own, with my sister's two dogs... but it had been 40 degrees today and bulldogs can overheat easily in the heat. Besides, I wanted to see him.
We got home at 3am.
He stank like a farm dog, he didn't smell sweet like an inner suburban pooch should, so a shower is the first thing on the agenda today. Good thing he is more than happy to slide his stumpy little body under the water.
We got home at 3am.
He stank like a farm dog, he didn't smell sweet like an inner suburban pooch should, so a shower is the first thing on the agenda today. Good thing he is more than happy to slide his stumpy little body under the water.
Friday, January 04, 2013
Heading home
We headed off to Byron Bay for lunch and the beach, before we headed to the airport to head home. Yes, home, it has all gone so quickly. I'm looking forward to seeing the Buddy, I wonder how he has coped up on the sheep farm with the Kelpies?
The weather report tells me, it is 40 degrees in Melbourne, still 35, or so, when we land at 11pm, that I'm not looking forward to. Ug!
It is beautiful up here in the hinterland, 26 degrees every day, as Mark likes to tell me. Could I live up here, far away from the rat race of the increasingly congested inner suburbs of Melbourne? I think I could. Dean was even having a cursory look at the houses for sale while he was here and one, or two, of them looked enticing, I must say. One had views and a river frontage and it seemed quite cheap. The house was probably crap, but houses can always be changed and improved, besides, I've always liked well used, fixer-uper's, really, despite living in an Edwardian terrace. I gravitate towards the mismatched eclectic, I kind of like that lived in'ness.
The sun sparkled and the sky shone blue in Byron. The traffic was crap, as it is in the peak season, but you know, not impossible. Besides, the slow crawl through the main street gave us a chance to perve on the hot boys walking along the foot path, Byron is full of them.
We ate at the sushi train and swam at Kings for the afternoon. There is nothing like jumping through the waves on an ocean beach. I worked out that smoking a joint perched on a high rock is very bad for my fear of heights... or is being stoned the closest thing to paranoia, I'm not sure? But once it hit me, the view was no longer magical and all I could think was that I wanted to get down.
Then the sun set and it was time to start thinking about heading to the airport.
The weather report tells me, it is 40 degrees in Melbourne, still 35, or so, when we land at 11pm, that I'm not looking forward to. Ug!
It is beautiful up here in the hinterland, 26 degrees every day, as Mark likes to tell me. Could I live up here, far away from the rat race of the increasingly congested inner suburbs of Melbourne? I think I could. Dean was even having a cursory look at the houses for sale while he was here and one, or two, of them looked enticing, I must say. One had views and a river frontage and it seemed quite cheap. The house was probably crap, but houses can always be changed and improved, besides, I've always liked well used, fixer-uper's, really, despite living in an Edwardian terrace. I gravitate towards the mismatched eclectic, I kind of like that lived in'ness.
The sun sparkled and the sky shone blue in Byron. The traffic was crap, as it is in the peak season, but you know, not impossible. Besides, the slow crawl through the main street gave us a chance to perve on the hot boys walking along the foot path, Byron is full of them.
We ate at the sushi train and swam at Kings for the afternoon. There is nothing like jumping through the waves on an ocean beach. I worked out that smoking a joint perched on a high rock is very bad for my fear of heights... or is being stoned the closest thing to paranoia, I'm not sure? But once it hit me, the view was no longer magical and all I could think was that I wanted to get down.
Then the sun set and it was time to start thinking about heading to the airport.
Thursday, January 03, 2013
Lunch and Waterfalls
Dean arrived at 9am. He wondered if it was a little early for all of us, but then he thought, what the hell. We were all in bed. 9am and on holidays?
Dean isn't quiet at the best of times, so, as you can imagine, we were all awake in moments.
Dean isn't quiet at the best of times, so, as you can imagine, we were all awake in moments.
Dean drove us all to Bangalow for Hamburgers for lunch. The problem with Dean's driving is that he drives like an old woman. Mark complained. Bangalow is a gorgeous country town, a little spoilt by tourists, of course, but then anyone who has a vacant look and sunglasses on walking at a snails pace is a tourist to me.
We came
home and smoked a joint.
We went
to Minyon Falls for the afternoon. Mark drove. I didn't really mind who drove. I didn't care if Dean drove slowly, I just didn't want them to still be pissy about it when we went to the falls, as the road out there goes along the top of a ridge with the ground falling away dramatically on either side. It sets my vertigo off, at the best of times and I would prefer it to be calm as we make the ridge crossing.
The falls are beautiful. Peaceful and calm. Dare I say, majestic. Such depth and space. Standing on the viewing platform, they fall away dramatically all the way down to the the gurgling water at the bottom.
The falls are beautiful. Peaceful and calm. Dare I say, majestic. Such depth and space. Standing on the viewing platform, they fall away dramatically all the way down to the the gurgling water at the bottom.
Mark cooked pumpkin soup and quiche for dinner. We bought pumpkin and cantaloupe
from one of those driveway veggie stands on the way home.
David and Mike (the new boyfriend) arrived home late looking tired, Mike felt sick. They spent a couple of nights in a local hotel so we wouldn't hear the biting and the scratching and the screaming and the gnashing of teeth sex post new years eve. No wonder Mike felt sick.
We went to see The Hobbit in Lismore. I saw the dragon and the gold and then I slept through the rest of the movie without a problem.
Wednesday, January 02, 2013
What Day Is It?
I've been up all night, not bad for the quiet night in, hey? Mark and Luke were heading to recoveries, but they gave us something excess to their needs, something to chew, shall we say. We watched a marathon of Modern Family. Cam's shirts were really colourful.
It was a lovely night with all of the doors and windows thrown open, us in singlets and shorts.
Thee party boys got home around 2am. It was the best party, Kate Munro was inspired. Fabulous! Fabulous! Blah, blah, blah.
Our buddy Dean came back with Mark and Luke, he was well enhanced. He talked, without taking a breath, for 4 hours. Non stop. no break to change subjects. He was so funny. Mind boggling. Some time, just after they got back, Dean started asking Sam and I what we'd been doing? Then he was emptying his pockets and tipping the contents of the small plastic bags down Sam's and my throats.
And here I am. The walking mouth had headed off to parts unknown. Mark and Luke have passed out. And Sam has hit the hey... er... hay. My head is spinning. It is day light outside.
I love that gentle hum. Sam is out to it under the mosquito net. I've just shut the windows and doors, the candle light burns gold on the walls. Just me and the gentle morning sun and the silence. The lovely silence and my spotty vision. I feel like writing, but I should go and cuddle my boy friend instead, like a good boyfriend should.
Tuesday, January 01, 2013
Home from the New Years Eve party
Well... I've been swimming. We glided down the hill to the river, everything was on slow. Velvet green, bright blue, sparkling sunlight, walking staffs, sun hats, towels. The thrump of the bass sounding like an echo in the base of my neck. Thick head. Birds calling in the distance. A gentle breeze.
The water was the perfect, skin temperature, as it lapped around the tops of my legs, like circles of extra skin; lapping at my balls, that is always the moment when I know it is time to dive in. The water was like velvet on my skin, as slid in. I lifted my legs up behind me and floated like a sea horse, with crocodile eyes.
We sat on banana lounges, with a shade umbrella and straw hats and listened to the breeze in the trees. We slept a bit... towels over our faces.
I've eaten runny yolk, poached eggs on toast. I had an amazing shower. I've slept for two hours. I've kissed my boyfriend. But some how I'm still not tired, despite liberal applications of the antidote. Hands in the air. The party was good, lots of boys, as you would expect, wearing very little, some of them... big eyes, as you would expect. There were lots of people having a good time, it was a happy party, the fruits were tropical, the weather perfect. Although, it was a little chilly at 5am. There was a drag queen with enormous fake tits, she managed to keep them in place all night, good for her I thought on the way out. The music was fine, it all went so fast. We danced a lot. Of course, I took up smoking again New Years Eve, weak as piss. I'll stop again on the 5th back in Melbourne. If I haven't before, if I already haven't. That was last night and this is a new year.
I'm sitting on the deck, it is 29 degrees, it is sunny and warm, with a gentle breeze. Everyone is now sleeping. The breeze blows, the sun touches my back like warm honey. Just the rustle of the leaves, the occasional drop of something to the ground, thud, a bug chirping.
The cicadas are just starting to call.
My head is thick, my neck is sore, it crunches when I close my eyes and turn it. The sun turns the insides of my eyelids bright orange. The air is amazingly fresh, as it blows against my face.
The water was the perfect, skin temperature, as it lapped around the tops of my legs, like circles of extra skin; lapping at my balls, that is always the moment when I know it is time to dive in. The water was like velvet on my skin, as slid in. I lifted my legs up behind me and floated like a sea horse, with crocodile eyes.
We sat on banana lounges, with a shade umbrella and straw hats and listened to the breeze in the trees. We slept a bit... towels over our faces.
I've eaten runny yolk, poached eggs on toast. I had an amazing shower. I've slept for two hours. I've kissed my boyfriend. But some how I'm still not tired, despite liberal applications of the antidote. Hands in the air. The party was good, lots of boys, as you would expect, wearing very little, some of them... big eyes, as you would expect. There were lots of people having a good time, it was a happy party, the fruits were tropical, the weather perfect. Although, it was a little chilly at 5am. There was a drag queen with enormous fake tits, she managed to keep them in place all night, good for her I thought on the way out. The music was fine, it all went so fast. We danced a lot. Of course, I took up smoking again New Years Eve, weak as piss. I'll stop again on the 5th back in Melbourne. If I haven't before, if I already haven't. That was last night and this is a new year.
I'm sitting on the deck, it is 29 degrees, it is sunny and warm, with a gentle breeze. Everyone is now sleeping. The breeze blows, the sun touches my back like warm honey. Just the rustle of the leaves, the occasional drop of something to the ground, thud, a bug chirping.
The cicadas are just starting to call.
My head is thick, my neck is sore, it crunches when I close my eyes and turn it. The sun turns the insides of my eyelids bright orange. The air is amazingly fresh, as it blows against my face.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Happy New Year
What a beautiful day, just gorgeous. The sun, the breeze. I had to wear a t-shirt, like some old nana, when I went for my swim. "That's it gran, cover up the sun is mighty powerful."
Too much sun and swimming all week, I am beginning to feel the sting when the sun hits me. It is the curse of fabulous pale skin.
Still, the water was just perfect, once I got under.
There is something magical about a fresh country river. There is a certain tuning into the earth, a feeling that we are all one entity, ashes to ashes, of the earth. I always feel that. It is the silence, apart from the wind, apart from the splash of the water, apart from the call of a bird.
I've taken lots of photos, but I only have an iPad with me and it refuses to upload anything into blogger. Oh we'll.
It is the perfect temperature, for shorts and t-shirt... you know, up near Byron. I've worn one pair of shorts all week.
It is Tropical Fruits tonight, so we'll see how the temperature holds out, nudge wink.
Too much sun and swimming all week, I am beginning to feel the sting when the sun hits me. It is the curse of fabulous pale skin.
Still, the water was just perfect, once I got under.
There is something magical about a fresh country river. There is a certain tuning into the earth, a feeling that we are all one entity, ashes to ashes, of the earth. I always feel that. It is the silence, apart from the wind, apart from the splash of the water, apart from the call of a bird.
I've taken lots of photos, but I only have an iPad with me and it refuses to upload anything into blogger. Oh we'll.
It is the perfect temperature, for shorts and t-shirt... you know, up near Byron. I've worn one pair of shorts all week.
It is Tropical Fruits tonight, so we'll see how the temperature holds out, nudge wink.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Lazing Around in our Bliss
We swam in the river for the afternoon, with our own beach, lounge chairs and shoes to protect our feet from the scattered rocks on the river bed. The sun shone down brightly, my skin may have a red hue, I can, perhaps, wince, feel it.
Sam can't swim, so I taught him to float. He mastered it quickly and then he just wanted to practice floating on his back, beneath the dappled sun light spread across the surface of water, which sparkled in full sun light. Just his face showing... like he was learning it, catching up... very pleased with himself. I love it when he smiles like that.
We went to see Les Mis last night at the movies, at the local multiplex, in the nearest, biggest country town. Everyone was scrubbed up nice and shiny and they all looked over exposed to vitamin D. Fresh. New. Corn fed.
I didn't really care for the stage play that much, despite seeing it several times, but the movie I liked, it made all much clearer. Yay. (Perhaps, I could be a philistine after all?) Russell Crowe was
stupendously awful, (editors note - his voice was stupendously awful) but apart from him, the rest of them were good. What were they thinking when Russell Crowe was cast?
How cute was Marius, though, not to mention that amazing voice.
Sam can't swim, so I taught him to float. He mastered it quickly and then he just wanted to practice floating on his back, beneath the dappled sun light spread across the surface of water, which sparkled in full sun light. Just his face showing... like he was learning it, catching up... very pleased with himself. I love it when he smiles like that.
We went to see Les Mis last night at the movies, at the local multiplex, in the nearest, biggest country town. Everyone was scrubbed up nice and shiny and they all looked over exposed to vitamin D. Fresh. New. Corn fed.
I didn't really care for the stage play that much, despite seeing it several times, but the movie I liked, it made all much clearer. Yay. (Perhaps, I could be a philistine after all?) Russell Crowe was
stupendously awful, (editors note - his voice was stupendously awful) but apart from him, the rest of them were good. What were they thinking when Russell Crowe was cast?
How cute was Marius, though, not to mention that amazing voice.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Soft and Green
I'm sitting on the veranda over looking the rain forest just in front of me. It is still, early. I could reach out and touch the trees between my finger tips. It is beautiful, a cacophony of green. The frogs, I think, are croaking. There is a lot of bug noise anyway, over yonder... like ringing bells. The birds are singing. They are, kind of, chattering like monkeys, actually. Some birds call with a beautiful whistle, some squeak, some squark, some sound like a drop of water falling. I'm waiting for the giant lizard thing to crawl onto the veranda and demand her maggots, with trepidation. Nobody else is awake. Will she eat me? It is beautiful here. Lush. Remote. Wet in the air. Vividly green. It smells like a river bank. Mossy tree roots, dissolving. Bracken. A carpet of leaves and twigs, damp, soft, like wool slippers. There is mist on the furthest mountain tops, floating above the tree tops.
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Up Up And Away Xmas Day
First up, was Lunch with my brother and sister in the country Xmas day. It was the first time Sam met my brother and his wife, and my nieces. He didn't even seem to be nervous. I used to hate the first family meetings, well not hate, but I was certainly nervous before hand. I think I have always had low self esteem... Kind of.
Anyway, my sister had enough Santa hats for everyone to wear, my only question was who has an infinite number of red pointy hats trimmed in white fur? Apparently, my sister. I could get mine to stand up like a giant red cone. It is a skill.
Funny old families, everyone's got one, for better, or for worse. I like mine.
I got a Leung book, some Danish biscuits and Sam got chocolates. The food was good, the usual fare, it's something you can rely on in life, one of the few. Death. Taxes. Good times.
Anyway, my sister had enough Santa hats for everyone to wear, my only question was who has an infinite number of red pointy hats trimmed in white fur? Apparently, my sister. I could get mine to stand up like a giant red cone. It is a skill.
Funny old families, everyone's got one, for better, or for worse. I like mine.
I got a Leung book, some Danish biscuits and Sam got chocolates. The food was good, the usual fare, it's something you can rely on in life, one of the few. Death. Taxes. Good times.
Then it was back home and off to the airport for a plane ride to NSW. The hinterland in northern NSW.
The plane took off and I opened my obligatory car mag and started to read. Two hours, I thought. Yay. I had felt tired earlier before we left for the airport. So I lay the magazine down and the next thing I heard was, blah, blah, blah, we are now preparing for our decent, please put you seats to their upright position. Its a skill. Lovely.
The plane took off and I opened my obligatory car mag and started to read. Two hours, I thought. Yay. I had felt tired earlier before we left for the airport. So I lay the magazine down and the next thing I heard was, blah, blah, blah, we are now preparing for our decent, please put you seats to their upright position. Its a skill. Lovely.
Friday, December 21, 2012
The Last Party
We had the rest of Guido’s crystals to do.
And a good time was had by all.
He, he.
Big smile.
Not sure how I feel, which is always a good sign.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Lunch Date
I'm off to have lunch with Sam in the city. I didn't seem him last night, it was one of the nights he spent at his place. So, I'm off to have lunch with him, so I don't miss him too much. Lovely, isn't it.
I think we are eating Korean. Yum.
I think we are eating Korean. Yum.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Changing Weather
What a change in weather. One day it is hot, hot, hot, the next day it is humid and overcast. I'm sure it is messing up my moods, has to be. I'm sure it is detracting from my holidays, bound to be. My holidays? Do you like that? Sam asks me when I'm not on holidays, if I ever mention that to him. Ha, ha. Usually, accompanied by "that" look. Tilt of the head, raise of the eyebrows, mouth pursed just so.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
It Was A Glorious Day
 |
| Ah... look at that blue sky |
It was a glorious day, sparkling, shiny and I had nothing in particular to do. The sky was blue, radiant, glorious. So I headed out with my camera. I had lunch in Carlton and ended up lying in the park in Lygon street, falling asleep for a while, staring up at the blue sky. Lovely, really... well, so Sam said, you know, those of us being stuck in the office all day.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Anthony in ICU
Anthony ended up in ICU in an induced coma in a bigger hospital due to the pain he was in. That was last Thursday, the day after I saw him. It was hardly surprising to me, even if it was a little shocking to hear, as he'd been in great pain when I had seen him and he hadn't looked really good. I was about to go and visit him with Sam when Mark called.
Of course, there was a flurry of messages backwards and forwards. How could this happen? Everyone was really worried. Please, please be okay.
Apparently, he has just been bought out of it today and is conscience for the first time since last week.
He had a tube in every orifice, which are slowly being removed. IV drip, catheter, nasal feed tube, the works.
I spoke to him today.
"Well, haven't you got yourself some attention?"
"Haven't I?"
"Look at me, look at me."
"Like the best of them."
"Are you feeling better?"
"Much."
"Do you know what day it is?"
"No idea."
"It must be lovely?"
"Like a clam."
"Or a plate of them?"
"Indeed."
He says he has to watch his diet.
"So, it is tofu and mountain water from her on out."
"Sadly, yes," he agreed.
Of course, I was meaning that the alcohol will have to stop. No more pissed before lunch.
I guess he knew what I meant.
"When do you get out?"
"I have no idea. I don't even know what day it is, remember?"
Of course, there was a flurry of messages backwards and forwards. How could this happen? Everyone was really worried. Please, please be okay.
Apparently, he has just been bought out of it today and is conscience for the first time since last week.
He had a tube in every orifice, which are slowly being removed. IV drip, catheter, nasal feed tube, the works.
I spoke to him today.
"Well, haven't you got yourself some attention?"
"Haven't I?"
"Look at me, look at me."
"Like the best of them."
"Are you feeling better?"
"Much."
"Do you know what day it is?"
"No idea."
"It must be lovely?"
"Like a clam."
"Or a plate of them?"
"Indeed."
He says he has to watch his diet.
"So, it is tofu and mountain water from her on out."
"Sadly, yes," he agreed.
Of course, I was meaning that the alcohol will have to stop. No more pissed before lunch.
I guess he knew what I meant.
"When do you get out?"
"I have no idea. I don't even know what day it is, remember?"
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Poppers
I was reading about Amyl Nitrate, or as the Americans, but not the Australian's call it, poppers.
Apparently, amyl nitrate was made illegal in Australia a few years ago, because "the powers that be" thought that had to protect the users from themselves.
So now the manufacturers have gone to another nitrate, I think it is called brutal nitrate, but I may be wrong, it is another nitrate none the less.
In true political style, read stupidity, "they" outlawed amyl nitrate, from adults who chose freely to use it, which was essentially harmless to the user, for it to be replaced by another nitrate that is suspected of being harmful to the users eye sight.
When will politicians learn to keep out of people's private lives? They are not here for social engineering, they are here to balance the books.
Apparently, amyl nitrate was made illegal in Australia a few years ago, because "the powers that be" thought that had to protect the users from themselves.
So now the manufacturers have gone to another nitrate, I think it is called brutal nitrate, but I may be wrong, it is another nitrate none the less.
In true political style, read stupidity, "they" outlawed amyl nitrate, from adults who chose freely to use it, which was essentially harmless to the user, for it to be replaced by another nitrate that is suspected of being harmful to the users eye sight.
When will politicians learn to keep out of people's private lives? They are not here for social engineering, they are here to balance the books.
Friday, December 14, 2012
The Cat's Turn... Well, So She Thinks
My cat is really insistent about lying in the middle of the bed and making herself really comfortable. It is as if she is saying you got that other guy, meaning Sam, and you got the slobbery mut, meaning Buddy, and when the two of them aren't here, like last night, she is going to make the most of her turn.
Ah, long legs... and... big paws.
I tried to slip into bed next to her, late last night, but she wasn't moving a millimetre, not an iota. So I had about 30 centimetres to lie in. She just looked at me with slit eyes and dug her claws into the doona, literally, as if to emphasise that she wasn't moving at all.
Na! Tonight, this is all mine.
You see, she doesn't get to sleep on my bed any more since Sam came along, he doesn't like her on the bed and besides there isn't room for the three of us to stretch out. And now that Buddy is here she doesn't get to sleep in most of the rest of the house either. So, her life has changed quite dramatically in the last few years. Where she once had free reign of the house, sleeping on my bed every night, now he world is greatly diminished.
She just looked at me as if to say, I'm not moving, not a fucking chance.
So, thinking about it, what does that mean? That I am, in fact, at the bottom of the pile? It is what is looks like to me, in her pussy cat mind. I feel kind of guilty for ruining her life, so I don't insist otherwise.
So, I lay there on a quarter of the bed, wedged between her and the wall, trying not to be restless so as to disturb her. I even tried to breath shallowly, so that wouldn't disturb her. She purred loudly, as I squeezed my shoulders together, as though she had won.
Jack called today and offered me some work miles away, way down south where they all spit on the ground and have eye twitches. I told him that it was too far and he offered me more money per hour so I reluctantly accepted. Then he called back and said that the client wanted me to work 6 days, Xmas Eve included. I told him I couldn't work Xmas Eve despite the fact that I told him I'd only be unavailable from Xmas day. Damn! He went back to the client. It is all true, I am going away Xmas day and I am unavailable Xmas Eve, I just didn't tell him because it never occurred to me that he'd, anyone, would ask me to work the Monday of Xmas week. Sam said I should call him back and say I'd do it, until I told him it was Xmas Eve as well. Jack called me back later and told me he'd got someone else.
He thanked me for the work I'd done all year. He told me that all the clients were happy with me.
I guess I should be happy with that?
I guess I am.
Ah, long legs... and... big paws.
I tried to slip into bed next to her, late last night, but she wasn't moving a millimetre, not an iota. So I had about 30 centimetres to lie in. She just looked at me with slit eyes and dug her claws into the doona, literally, as if to emphasise that she wasn't moving at all.
Na! Tonight, this is all mine.
You see, she doesn't get to sleep on my bed any more since Sam came along, he doesn't like her on the bed and besides there isn't room for the three of us to stretch out. And now that Buddy is here she doesn't get to sleep in most of the rest of the house either. So, her life has changed quite dramatically in the last few years. Where she once had free reign of the house, sleeping on my bed every night, now he world is greatly diminished.
She just looked at me as if to say, I'm not moving, not a fucking chance.
So, thinking about it, what does that mean? That I am, in fact, at the bottom of the pile? It is what is looks like to me, in her pussy cat mind. I feel kind of guilty for ruining her life, so I don't insist otherwise.
So, I lay there on a quarter of the bed, wedged between her and the wall, trying not to be restless so as to disturb her. I even tried to breath shallowly, so that wouldn't disturb her. She purred loudly, as I squeezed my shoulders together, as though she had won.
Jack called today and offered me some work miles away, way down south where they all spit on the ground and have eye twitches. I told him that it was too far and he offered me more money per hour so I reluctantly accepted. Then he called back and said that the client wanted me to work 6 days, Xmas Eve included. I told him I couldn't work Xmas Eve despite the fact that I told him I'd only be unavailable from Xmas day. Damn! He went back to the client. It is all true, I am going away Xmas day and I am unavailable Xmas Eve, I just didn't tell him because it never occurred to me that he'd, anyone, would ask me to work the Monday of Xmas week. Sam said I should call him back and say I'd do it, until I told him it was Xmas Eve as well. Jack called me back later and told me he'd got someone else.
He thanked me for the work I'd done all year. He told me that all the clients were happy with me.
I guess I should be happy with that?
I guess I am.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
The Boy With Nice Eyes And Sexy Legs... And Light Bulbs In His Hands
It was a hot day, really hot. Blisteringly hot, me and the bulldog were spending a quiet day indoors on YouTube... you know, as you do. Who is it who doubts global warming? Who? When we are getting these frighteningly hot days. Okay, frighteningly hot may not exactly be the right expression. It is enough for me to ignore calls from Jack with work, however. I couldn't get dressed up in work clothes and go out into that. Okay, so the cat shedding is enough to make me ignore calls from Jack, okay true. But it is still fucking hot, none the less.
Latish in the afternoon the doorbell sounded. Actually, it made the strangled, half hearted, giving up on life kind of noise it has been making lately as the batteries are flat, the kind of noise, I am sure, I've been making lately.
"Blartttttt."
I don't need to listen to carefully, or pay too much attention, as the bulldog scampers off to the door whenever anyone is there.
He's funny, he comes and sits next to me and all I have to do is rub him gently on the top of the head and he leans in against me and then he slides to the floor... but, I digress.
Standing at the door was NZ Paul wanting to replace my incandescent light globes with the more environmentally friendly new type. I think I was a little, unexpectedly, dazzled by his beauty, so naturally I said yes.
Of course, splutter, splutter, come in? (Am I going to regret this when I have white light blazing through my house... which, just by the way, I didn't)
He had beautiful eyes and a nice smile and it was hot so he was wearing shorts and he had nice legs. When he reached up to change the light globes, his t-shirt rode up and his undies showed above the waistband of his shorts and yes, I looked. Nice it was too.
And I have new globes throughout the house.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Anthony is in hospital
I've just been to visit Anthony in Maroondah
Hospital. He called me this morning to tell me where he was. So, I got in my car and headed out there to surprise him. I was going to buy him a flower, some terrible thing from 7 11, just because the thought amused me, but in the end I didn't, I forgot.
He told me a week ago that he thought he had pneumonia and I hadn't called him since. I left him a message yesterday,
"I'm a bad friend, I know, if you are not dead call me." Ha, ha.
I didn't really believe the pneumonia thing, I wasn't sure. Anthony has had a touch of the hypercondria about him, since he went nuts in the naughties. Twice.
I'm not exactly sure what is wrong with him, as I had to pump the info out of him, he wasn't very forth coming. An inflamed pancreas, apparently, maybe caused by gaul stones, he was told this morning, or maybe caused by alcohol.
I smiled down at him and tried not to smile too broadly. Alcohol? Considering he is often pissed just after breakfast, my money was on that. But, he takes it so seriously and he didn't seem to know why he was in hospital. Shrug. Who would know.
A wine chaser with your cereal? doesn't that kind of give it away? You know, just a wild guess? It doesn't give you a clue? at all? Really? Nothing?
When I got there, the doctor was trying to find a vein to input a drip to feed him. The curtain was drawn. Apparently, all his veins were collapsing, and the IV wouldn't catch. (I don't even really know what that means? How can a vein collapse without you dying? Or losing a limb?)
I headed down to the cafe for junk food, yum yum, while the doctor punctured Anthony's arm. Stab, stab. I congratulated myself all the way for having quit smoking again last week. Did I tell you? Last Monday.
Fuck hospitals are awful and I must remind myself to be healthy to stay out of them, every time I want to relapse. All that faded cream paint work and pale blue accessories. Yuk!
When I got back, Anthony was catheterised and attached to a drip and was in immense pain. He wanted a cigarette, but couldn't go as the drip was now in his foot. The nurse offered him patches and I tried to encourage him, but he declined grumpily.
It was an altogether unpleasant experience for me, so you can imagine how he must be feeling. Terrible, by the pain etched across his face. I had to leave him, as he wasn’t really able to cope with me being there.
He told me a week ago that he thought he had pneumonia and I hadn't called him since. I left him a message yesterday,
"I'm a bad friend, I know, if you are not dead call me." Ha, ha.
I didn't really believe the pneumonia thing, I wasn't sure. Anthony has had a touch of the hypercondria about him, since he went nuts in the naughties. Twice.
I'm not exactly sure what is wrong with him, as I had to pump the info out of him, he wasn't very forth coming. An inflamed pancreas, apparently, maybe caused by gaul stones, he was told this morning, or maybe caused by alcohol.
I smiled down at him and tried not to smile too broadly. Alcohol? Considering he is often pissed just after breakfast, my money was on that. But, he takes it so seriously and he didn't seem to know why he was in hospital. Shrug. Who would know.
A wine chaser with your cereal? doesn't that kind of give it away? You know, just a wild guess? It doesn't give you a clue? at all? Really? Nothing?
When I got there, the doctor was trying to find a vein to input a drip to feed him. The curtain was drawn. Apparently, all his veins were collapsing, and the IV wouldn't catch. (I don't even really know what that means? How can a vein collapse without you dying? Or losing a limb?)
I headed down to the cafe for junk food, yum yum, while the doctor punctured Anthony's arm. Stab, stab. I congratulated myself all the way for having quit smoking again last week. Did I tell you? Last Monday.
Fuck hospitals are awful and I must remind myself to be healthy to stay out of them, every time I want to relapse. All that faded cream paint work and pale blue accessories. Yuk!
When I got back, Anthony was catheterised and attached to a drip and was in immense pain. He wanted a cigarette, but couldn't go as the drip was now in his foot. The nurse offered him patches and I tried to encourage him, but he declined grumpily.
It was an altogether unpleasant experience for me, so you can imagine how he must be feeling. Terrible, by the pain etched across his face. I had to leave him, as he wasn’t really able to cope with me being there.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
So? Why did she kill herself?
I don't get the whole 2DayFm prank call drama. I've just listened to a recording of the phone call itself, and the 2 DJ's barely said anything to the nurse Jacintha Saldanha. She pretty quickly put the call threw to another nurse who gave out Kate's details.
I'm pretty sure I've got that right, that I listened to the full recording and not some edit. The nurse in question answered the phone and then transferred the call. It made me think, is that really it? That's what happened? If that is it, I think it is kind of weird, all the fuss that has been made.
I just don't get it? It is as if the whole world wants to have a drama about it. It is as if common sense has been abandoned completely in favour of sensationalism.
If that is it and I do, in fact, have it right, I'd say that the prank call had very little to do with the nurses' suicide.
Poor thing, she hanged herself. Threw a rope over a roof beam, or something and stepped off the stool. Crack! What was she thinking? No really, what was she thinking? Two kids 16 and 14 now don't have a mother, over a stupid news story that we will have all forgotten soon enough. The world has a 5 second memory for such things, no really it does.
Kate will give birth to the new royal baby and the 2 DJ's will be working on radio somewhere else, no doubt, and the newspapers will be reporting the latest scandal with reknewed relish, who David Beckham is up, or what Charlie Sheen has put up his nose and when, if, the name Jacintha Saldanha is mentioned, most of us will ask, Who? I know that name from somewhere? No, don't tell me, I'll get it in a minute? Give me a clue. It is sad, cruel really.
I guess I don't get the whole suicide thing really. No, I do get it, it is your life, end it when you want. But really, my warped sense of humour would stop me. Once that rope went over the beam and came thudding down to the floor again, probably bonk on the top of my head, I'm sure I'd laugh and think, You twat. Or, if I had the pills in my hand I'd probably think, Oh how Marilyn Monroe do you really want to get. Or something. I guess, I just don't get depression.
So why did the nurse kill herself, when she, really, had very little input into the whole thing? I'm not really sure. It is a very sad thing, however.
I'm pretty sure I've got that right, that I listened to the full recording and not some edit. The nurse in question answered the phone and then transferred the call. It made me think, is that really it? That's what happened? If that is it, I think it is kind of weird, all the fuss that has been made.
I just don't get it? It is as if the whole world wants to have a drama about it. It is as if common sense has been abandoned completely in favour of sensationalism.
If that is it and I do, in fact, have it right, I'd say that the prank call had very little to do with the nurses' suicide.
Poor thing, she hanged herself. Threw a rope over a roof beam, or something and stepped off the stool. Crack! What was she thinking? No really, what was she thinking? Two kids 16 and 14 now don't have a mother, over a stupid news story that we will have all forgotten soon enough. The world has a 5 second memory for such things, no really it does.
Kate will give birth to the new royal baby and the 2 DJ's will be working on radio somewhere else, no doubt, and the newspapers will be reporting the latest scandal with reknewed relish, who David Beckham is up, or what Charlie Sheen has put up his nose and when, if, the name Jacintha Saldanha is mentioned, most of us will ask, Who? I know that name from somewhere? No, don't tell me, I'll get it in a minute? Give me a clue. It is sad, cruel really.
I guess I don't get the whole suicide thing really. No, I do get it, it is your life, end it when you want. But really, my warped sense of humour would stop me. Once that rope went over the beam and came thudding down to the floor again, probably bonk on the top of my head, I'm sure I'd laugh and think, You twat. Or, if I had the pills in my hand I'd probably think, Oh how Marilyn Monroe do you really want to get. Or something. I guess, I just don't get depression.
So why did the nurse kill herself, when she, really, had very little input into the whole thing? I'm not really sure. It is a very sad thing, however.
Friday, December 07, 2012
The Day Before it is a Million Degrees
It is hot today, actually, really hot. Tomorrow, it is going to be a billion degrees and the country side is going to burn like hades, so say the (never exaggerating for ratings) news outlets.
It was 12 degrees on Wednesday and tomorrow it is going to be 39 degrees, even for Melbourne's notoriously changeable weather, that is extreme. Global warming anyone?
I just didn't realise it was going to be hot today. I might put on shorts and a singlet and head out into the sunshine with my camera... you know, before the world burns tomorrow.
I've put my camera battery on to charge. I guess I should have a shower, you know, start the day clean. Ha ha, it is already what? 11am.
The bulldoggy is lying outside in the sun, pity he is impossible to walk on a lead, otherwise I could take him with me. But, no. Sadly, no. Into your kennel fat boy and keep the barking to a minimum, you don't want to upset the mentally challenged just beyond the fence.
It really is a lovely day, don't get me wrong. I need a skateboard and a pair of Raybands and a Husky to pull me through the city on my photographic mission.
It was 12 degrees on Wednesday and tomorrow it is going to be 39 degrees, even for Melbourne's notoriously changeable weather, that is extreme. Global warming anyone?
I just didn't realise it was going to be hot today. I might put on shorts and a singlet and head out into the sunshine with my camera... you know, before the world burns tomorrow.
I've put my camera battery on to charge. I guess I should have a shower, you know, start the day clean. Ha ha, it is already what? 11am.
The bulldoggy is lying outside in the sun, pity he is impossible to walk on a lead, otherwise I could take him with me. But, no. Sadly, no. Into your kennel fat boy and keep the barking to a minimum, you don't want to upset the mentally challenged just beyond the fence.
It really is a lovely day, don't get me wrong. I need a skateboard and a pair of Raybands and a Husky to pull me through the city on my photographic mission.
Thursday, December 06, 2012
Wednesday, December 05, 2012
Who'd Have Thought An Arab Boy With Fat Fingers Could Be Considered Sexy?
My lovely, bear, hairdresser put smelly goop in my hair at the end of the haircut. Splosh, splosh, just like that. And then he sprayed me with cologne. Squirt. Squirt. Yuk. WTF? Why? Shouldn't he ask first, before he does that?
Funny how I just sit passively and say nothing. He can't even see me cringe. Silent as a mouse.
He's never done that before? I think someone must have told him to upmarket the service. Oo! I stank all night. Pppff! Shake of the head. Sam told me to go and have a shower, as I smelt like a bedouin brothel.
My hairdresser still touches me gently with his fat fingers, like he is massaging my skin, or testing to see how I feel, or just enjoying the thrill of skin on skin. I still find the way he touches me so gently to be kind of erotic, when I close my eyes and it is all I can feel, his finger tips, my skin. I'm sure he has a "quiet thing" for me. I reckon, he does, you can sense such things, don't you think? The energy is different.
A fat Arab boy... who is kind of sexy in a fat, cute way. He is. I reckon he'd look like Homer Simpson in his Y-fronts. Adorable. I like him. He has a nice smile and a really gentle way about him.
I checked myself out in the shop window as soon as I left the shop. Smith Street pulsed gently under the weight of footpath diners eating and drinking and smoking and laughing. Trams rattled and "ding dinged", and the deros asked for money,
"Got any change, bro?"
I gazed in the shop windows, at my reflection, adjusting my t-shirt with a flex of my shoulders... and smiling, tugging at my fringe gently.
A gentle afternoon, I think. I love this, wandering around the shops just when I feel like it, nothing to do in particular, except to please myself. Free as a bird.
Then it strikes me again. Wow! Is this sustainable? This life of mine? Will there be a price to pay for this one day? Maybe? Shrug. Who cares.
Funny how I just sit passively and say nothing. He can't even see me cringe. Silent as a mouse.
He's never done that before? I think someone must have told him to upmarket the service. Oo! I stank all night. Pppff! Shake of the head. Sam told me to go and have a shower, as I smelt like a bedouin brothel.
My hairdresser still touches me gently with his fat fingers, like he is massaging my skin, or testing to see how I feel, or just enjoying the thrill of skin on skin. I still find the way he touches me so gently to be kind of erotic, when I close my eyes and it is all I can feel, his finger tips, my skin. I'm sure he has a "quiet thing" for me. I reckon, he does, you can sense such things, don't you think? The energy is different.
A fat Arab boy... who is kind of sexy in a fat, cute way. He is. I reckon he'd look like Homer Simpson in his Y-fronts. Adorable. I like him. He has a nice smile and a really gentle way about him.
I checked myself out in the shop window as soon as I left the shop. Smith Street pulsed gently under the weight of footpath diners eating and drinking and smoking and laughing. Trams rattled and "ding dinged", and the deros asked for money,
"Got any change, bro?"
I gazed in the shop windows, at my reflection, adjusting my t-shirt with a flex of my shoulders... and smiling, tugging at my fringe gently.
A gentle afternoon, I think. I love this, wandering around the shops just when I feel like it, nothing to do in particular, except to please myself. Free as a bird.
Then it strikes me again. Wow! Is this sustainable? This life of mine? Will there be a price to pay for this one day? Maybe? Shrug. Who cares.
Tuesday, December 04, 2012
Feeling Good
I'm off to have a haircut. I always feel better after a haircut, don't you? It always makes me feel fresh, new and clean. There is always something refreshing about it. Maybe, it is all that attention focussed on you? The single focus of another man's attention falling down upon me from the head down? Maybe? Shrug. I just know I like it.
I've had 3 cigarettes in 3 days, that is not too terrible, now is it? But today, I'm not having any. This is it, quitting day.
A new haircut will sweep out the bad habits and make everything new and clean again.
Big breath in... I am now a nonsmoker. Ohm!
I've smoked since last weekend, too many indie movies with guys puffing away on cigarettes sexily. Stupid, isn't it. Actually, it was the film Ice Men that made me want to smoke. All those hot men with cigarettes in their mouths.
I had not smoked since the Thursday before Melbourne Cup.
I had smoked, before that, on and off since the end of September, when Mark came down and influenced me to smoke. No, it is not his fault, I am the only one to blame. Blah, blah, blah.
Stupid, I know... but, no more.
I've had 3 cigarettes in 3 days, that is not too terrible, now is it? But today, I'm not having any. This is it, quitting day.
A new haircut will sweep out the bad habits and make everything new and clean again.
Big breath in... I am now a nonsmoker. Ohm!
I've smoked since last weekend, too many indie movies with guys puffing away on cigarettes sexily. Stupid, isn't it. Actually, it was the film Ice Men that made me want to smoke. All those hot men with cigarettes in their mouths.
I had not smoked since the Thursday before Melbourne Cup.
I had smoked, before that, on and off since the end of September, when Mark came down and influenced me to smoke. No, it is not his fault, I am the only one to blame. Blah, blah, blah.
Stupid, I know... but, no more.
Monday, December 03, 2012
Monday Morning
A little Randy Crawford playing softly, my bulldog snoring at my side, my cup warm with coffee, and a handsome boyfriend at work earning the money to pay the bills, lovely.
Ha ha, I'd hate that, to tell you the truth, someone paying my bills. No thanks, that would just make me feel nervous. I have to be in more control than that.
My boyfriend doesn't have to do any thing more than be handsome... and sweet and nice. And, of course, kind. He needs to tickle my feet from time to time.
Sam tickled my feet this morning, I slid them out from under the doona and he ran his finger tips over the, yum, yum. He's lovely, my Sam, have I mentioned that lately?
Sunday, December 02, 2012
Let's See What Happens Next
I went to visit my mum with my sister Roz. We headed out there early, as my sister had a lunch date to get to afterwards.
I told Roz about my problem with the neighbour. She was on my side, of course, I am her little brother, after all. She was off to meet up with all her lawyer buddies, just coincidentally, who she studied with at uni. She said she would mention it to them, she said she thought that two of them would be able to help me.
So, maybe I'll have a team of lawyers, should this progress any further. My sister and I thought that it probably will, as my neighbour is not rational, she is not taking into account what the laws are, she is just seeing it as an issue that disturbs her. And stupidity seems to run the world now a days, from most politicians and their short term agendas, to climate change deniers, to fear and lies that news services sell.
The council has ruled there is no problem here, almost by the entries on my neighbour's own log. She, herself, noted that there were four days where my dog didn't bark at all.
"We are not interested in pursuing normal dogs that bark like normal dogs do," were essentially the words of the nice council man.
I'd like to say to the neighbour, "I realise you think that the world revolves around you, however it doesn't, the world doesn't work that way." Obviously. But, you know, that is the downfall of the stupid people, today. I guess it is not always the downfall, but certainly the mistake.
Okay, so "stupid people" is a little harsh, you think. So, what would we call it? The 21st century self focus. That modern day self interest? The "me me me" times? I don't know, it is hard to qualify. People think of themselves as the fabulous stars of their own revolving universe and people who put their hands out to interfere with the spin, have to be stopped?
In reality, my response will be a dignified silence. I've told Sam and Shane to say nothing, to give her nothing that she could note down and use against us. If I have to, and I hope it doesn't get to this, I will let my lawyer(s), he he, speak for me.
I told Roz about my problem with the neighbour. She was on my side, of course, I am her little brother, after all. She was off to meet up with all her lawyer buddies, just coincidentally, who she studied with at uni. She said she would mention it to them, she said she thought that two of them would be able to help me.
So, maybe I'll have a team of lawyers, should this progress any further. My sister and I thought that it probably will, as my neighbour is not rational, she is not taking into account what the laws are, she is just seeing it as an issue that disturbs her. And stupidity seems to run the world now a days, from most politicians and their short term agendas, to climate change deniers, to fear and lies that news services sell.
The council has ruled there is no problem here, almost by the entries on my neighbour's own log. She, herself, noted that there were four days where my dog didn't bark at all.
"We are not interested in pursuing normal dogs that bark like normal dogs do," were essentially the words of the nice council man.
I'd like to say to the neighbour, "I realise you think that the world revolves around you, however it doesn't, the world doesn't work that way." Obviously. But, you know, that is the downfall of the stupid people, today. I guess it is not always the downfall, but certainly the mistake.
Okay, so "stupid people" is a little harsh, you think. So, what would we call it? The 21st century self focus. That modern day self interest? The "me me me" times? I don't know, it is hard to qualify. People think of themselves as the fabulous stars of their own revolving universe and people who put their hands out to interfere with the spin, have to be stopped?
In reality, my response will be a dignified silence. I've told Sam and Shane to say nothing, to give her nothing that she could note down and use against us. If I have to, and I hope it doesn't get to this, I will let my lawyer(s), he he, speak for me.
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