Is this still not my house?

Last night, the doorbell rang. Buddy ran to the door, of course. Shane was in the kitchen preparing some food, dinner of some sort.

“Oh, I don’t think I told you that Jane is coming? Did I tell you Jane was coming?”

“No.”

“Well, she is at the door.”

So, Jane is coming to stay and I am the last to know. Okay, so she is my stepdaughter – for those of you who don’t remember, Jane and I are roughly only ten years apart in age, and with that in mind, plus the fact that Mark and I are now split up for how long? …it is now becoming kind of ridiculous to call her my step daughter and I her stepfather – but even if she was coming to stay with me, and not, essentially, Shane, I would still expect her to ask me/be told. I mean, it is still my house the last time I checked.

My friends and her dad’s friends have long since become friends, of course, the result of the parent/child relationship being broken down just a little too far, says Mark, now thinking about it in retrospect, however we are way past that point now.

Pretty soon Shane asked Jane if she wanted to go out for a drink, with he and Tulli, just the three of them. Did Shane seem kind of insistent, or was it my imagination?


“Do you think Shane told you at the last minute so he didn’t have to involve you?” asked Sam.

“Oh maybe, possibly. That’s what he does now a days.”

“Do you think it is because of me being boring?”

It nearly broke my heart hearing him say that. My beautiful Sam. “No, not at all. It is me he doesn’t seem to like. Everyone loves you.”

Shane left chicken cacciatore on the stove cooking for them when they got back.

Sam and I started watching “Must Love Dogs.”

With their dinner cooking on the stove, I knew they would come back and they would talk over the movie, if history was anything to go by.

“I tell you what,” I said to Sam. “Let’s turn it up in preparation?”

Oh, I don’t know what Sam must think of me when I do such things?

“I tell you what…” and I turned it up again and then again, just to be sure.


They came home before the end of the movie. Shane served up the chicken concoction and proceeded to eat it around the coffee table, he Tulli and Jane. I had the TV turned up pretty loud by this point. And you know what, true to form, Shane proceeded to shout over the movie none the less.

So, there we were, the movie blaring and Shane and Jane screaming at each other over the movie from one end of the coffee table to the other. It was ridiculous. Really funny, if I allowed myself to be amused.

I didn’t even mute the ads, which, if they had been any sort of inquiring minds present, it would have been a sure fire give away, as it is one of my pet hates.

Sam reached over and took the remote and muted them once. However, I leant over, pretty smartly, and hissed in his ear, “traitor!” He didn’t do it again.


Jane headed off to The Exhibition Buildings to meet Jay and Andy for a Lego exhibition, this morning.

After my bitching from last night, it was nice to see her, and a delight to have her around. That is one of the things I object to most with Shane’s skuldugerous, secretive, they are my friends, they are here to see me, me, me me, me carry on, is that he poisons me against my own friends with his antics.

Jane was having “family” time with Jay and Andy. She has let Andy move in with her, as his debts have got too much for him and he was in danger of going under financially and she wants Jay to have a father. Apparently, he is in the spare room. I wonder if Jay sees that as having his mum and dad back together, as he has always wanted, or if he sees it as confusing?


Today was a lazy, sunny, do nothing, kind of day, where we just floated about doing little.

Sam asked if I wanted to go with him to buy a game of some sort second hand from some guy in Sunbury? I think he expected me to say no, I am not sure. Why not, I thought. It’s an adventure, if nothing else.

“Sure, let’s go.”

We caught the train to Sunbury, as my car is still in the shop. We went to buy Sam a PSVita something or other, from a guy who had to sell it to buy a new piece of machinery for his toy making business. We were to meet in the carpark.

So, there we were, sitting on a wall, in the sun in the car park with the guy selling for all he is worth? Of course, it was Sam who was listening to him, and I had time to look around and think about where we were and what we were doing. In a car park in Sunbury train station buying something from some guy out of the back of his four wheel drive. You know, I kind of hoped it was “hot” that he did rob houses at night in a black balaclava with a truncheon torch. Suddenly I wanted that to be true, just to complete the picture. It gave me a thrill.

We had barely made it back to Watergardens, when Sam said, “Okay, that’s it, I’m done with it.” He laughed.

I’m trying to work it out. The best I can come up with, is that he just wants to absorb all of the facts and features of all of these electrical gysmos/gadgets and the best way to do it, is to buy them to see for himself. He often buys them, absorbs all of the facts and features that he can and then he is done, then he gives them to one of his four nephews.

I like trains, I like train travel, it is just the general, moronic public you have to worry about. It is just a joy, rushing through the sprawling suburbs, zipping across the countryside, clack ity clack, clack ity clack, watching the scenery disappear. That movement, that whoosh, that not-having-to-take-hold-of-the-controls, I love it. Trains rock! No, they really do. The sun melted onto the landscape beyond the windows and the earth seemed at peace with itself.

We went to Footscray on the way home for dinner. There was a festival on, which was great, which we didn’t know was on, we just kind of stumble upon it. It was packed full of people, really packed. The streets were closed off, and the footpaths were lined with food stalls and exhibits and entertainment. I like Foostcray, it is interesting and honest, where Fitzroy if now pretentious and up itself.


Hi I am having one of those days when nobody will talk to me . So please answer . Have you taken Sam to Myer today for his return to work Clarke shoes.

if the two of you are in a dazed state let me know if there is any more and i may come and frighten you both after dinner with my now enormous stomach. love Anthony

Something in the... um... er... air

David came over last night, after having dinner with Shane and Tulli. David was supposed to be moving in with me at the end of February, after Shane vacates the premisses. It was going to be good, I was looking forward to it. David's pathological, spiritual positivity some how balances out my dark cynicism kind of nicely. 

David has a new man in his life, Mike. They have only known each other for two months. Mike is in the ooky spooky business also, well, of course he is. The voodoo of the new age spirituality. Mike seems quite nice, even if he has a habit of giving the minutest of details in conversations until your eyes glaze over and you start to nod off.

David came over to tell me that he is now moving in with Mike, they are getting a house together, some where in the northern suburbs. They have already started house hunting, apparently. They met last November. So, okay, good for them for being spontaneous and free, I guess? Good for them for knowing their own minds so quickly and acting accordingly, I'd like to say. Let's face it, it is not the end of the world if it doesn't work, they can just pick up their spotted hankies, throw their sticks over their shoulders and move on.

One thing I would like to add at this point, is that David is a complete and utter disaster, historically, when it comes to relationships. I joke about the next thing I'm going to say with him and that is that, usually, pretty soon into the relationship "the boyfriend" will commit an unforgivable sin, after which David will turn into a spoilt brat and the affair comes to an abrupt end, over, no correspondence and all that.

So, good for David for being brave, that's what I say. He's talking about marriage and children, naturally. So giddy with positive energy that he is. Ah! We all clasp hands and wiggle our toes and shriek in joy. "Ah!"

And Shane has quit his job of 15 years and is giving up everything he knows and moving to London with Tulli, who he has only know for 6 months, with who he has only lived in the same city for 4 weeks, something like 8 weeks by the time they depart Australia.

So there you go, the heart wins over logic. Happy couples desperate keen to be happy couples Maybe I am just too, um, cautious, er, sensible stuck in my ways?

All I see is gay divorce, I'll keep you posted.

A panorama of an intersection is me playing with my camera

Gay Marriage

I guess my piece about David and Shane makes me look as though I am anti gay marriage. And while I am a little perplexed by the strong desire for  gay marriage, for philosophical reasons, (why do we want to copy straight people? Are we so uncomfortable in our own gay skin that we want to emulate everything straight? Other than gay divorce, what is gay marriage really going to give us?) it comes down to the very basic idea that everyone should be treated equally. If people want to get married, they should be allowed to, no matter who they are. The institution of marriage should be open to everyone. I have never heard a convincing argument as to why gay people shouldn't get married, because, of course, there isn't a convincing argument.

But what of marriage? You know, marriage has been so sucessful for straight people, after all. Is it a bold step backwards for gays to get married? Maybe it is? Maybe it isn't?

I understand that some/most gays want to get married to obtain the same legal rights marriage affords everyone else in society, and fare enough. So then does that make it a technical issue?

I can see some gay people who want to change the religious institutions, which is problematic. Should churches be forced to perform gay weddings? I think not. Gay people wouldn't want to be forced to comply with religious doctrine for any reason, now would they?

I am just giving my view. I'm not trying to persuade anybody to think anything at all, you must think what you feel is right and true, I am just telling you what I think.

Get married if you want to, don't get married if you don't want, but everybody should be treated equally.

I Love Melbourne For That

Ah, cool, fresh air. Yum. I just want to go outside and run naked in it, feel it on every part of my skin. It was such a lovely way to wake up today, after yesterday's wall of heat, with a cool, fresh breeze blowing into greet me this morning.

I've flung open every door and window in the place.

I am now in the lounge room with my laptop, my coffee and my bulldog. I love my bulldog, he is gorgeous, everyone should have a bulldog. Funny, it is almost cold sitting here, 40 degrees one day, 23 degrees the next, almost with a chill.

I love Melbourne for that.

The fresh air blows in through the back doors. I love the cool breezes, I love the wind, it makes me feel alive.

I just gazed out at the day, feeling the earth’s cooling of, well, my little patch. The branches of the tall trees waved majestically in the air, the bushes and shrubs kind of shimmied and rustled.

I took the dog for a walk, the notoriously bad-on-a-lead dog, and he behaved impeccably. Except at the start, he seemed not inclined to walk with me, and he sat and dug in, he becomes a rock at the end of a lead. He loves the freedom of the dog park, so much so that when I fit his harness to him, he immediately heads out the back to the car. If I take too long getting all of my shit together, he comes back into the house, gives me one of those “come on, what are you doing,” kinds of looks and then heads straight back out to the car where he waits by the door. So, taking him out the front door, I am always at a disadvantage, as he knows he is heading in the wrong direction. But, with a little cajoling and the aid of a squeaker in my pocket, he, seemingly, begrudgingly started to put one fat paw in front of the other.

Gertrude Street was thick with people, mostly “tourists” as it the way now a days. People who have been told, or who have read somewhere, that Gertrude Street is now the “in” place to go. Ah, fashion, you have to love it, don’t you. I am waiting for the day when we are out of fashion again and the footpaths are cleared of the vacuous peroxide blondes who step out of black BMW 4WD’s looking to be delighted.

I cleaned up the kitchen, as I seem to be the only one who does that now. Yes, the cleaning gene seems to have escaped my other housemates, oddly. Of course, I have turned into a cranky bastard now a days, so I am always muttering expletives and formulating recriminations silently, as I do it. It is, of course, one of the advantages of being passive aggressive, the rage can all be done silently.

I made jelly. Oh yes, I love jelly, a bit like the DYMO label maker from childhood, jelly is a pure joy. Any kind of jelly, essentially, they are all good, even if Sam has an objection to lime jelly.

“But you are always saying that I need to eat more greens, honey.”

I just don’t make jelly in its standard form, oh no siree Bob, I put fruit in it. Often it is Jack fruit, last time it was mandarin segments (the second bowl of which we forgot to eat and we left it in the fridge while we were in NSW and the mandarin segments set, pretty much, like hard plastic.) Today it was mixed berries, as I made port wine and strawberry jelly. Yum. It is setting in the fridge now, 2 bowls. I always make 2 bowls, I’m not exactly sure why, I guess it is just creature of habit stuff.

I chatted to Jill on the phone. She was reclining on the couch with her feet up. She is another one who has stopped work and really doesn’t want to go back, although, of course, she will. It is just a tease, I'm sure a form of self-loathing, where we tease ourselves with how life could be, as unsustainable as it may be. She wants to buy an investment property in the UK, as they are cheaper than here and you get a better percentage return. She sounded pretty sleepy, actually. She wanted me to go over for lunch – one of my key time fillers now a days, lunch – but my car is still in hospital. I’m still waiting for the surgeon to call with the prognosis. It is open heart surgery, so whatever the prognosis, it is going to be bad, read expensive. Boo Hoo.

I messaged my other mate, Rachel, who is, shall we say, between jobs, she hasn’t worked since she sold her restaurant a few years ago, and when I asked her how the job hunting was going, she replied,

“Fabulously, I have just booked a holiday in Bali and a trip to Thailand for a friend’s wedding.”

“Lovely.”

“Who said job hunting was difficult?”

I have eaten cheese and salami toasted sandwiches all week, just when I have the piece of paper to go and have my annual cholesterol test. My father had cholesterol of 15 when he was first tested, so, of course, us siblings have to have ours checked regularly. I’m not exactly sure why now, as after all the carry on about my dad’s cholesterol over the years, he went and died of cancer.

Mine is 7, at my last test, which is a little on the high side, but my “good” cholesterol is high too, so my 7 is acceptable. I take 6 fish oil tablets a day, which reminds me, I must go and do it, it is so easy to forget.

Hang on a minute.

That was until I went and gorged on cheese and salami all week. (I never eat cheese as a rule, despite liking it very much, for this reason) And that is not to mention all the cheese platters over Xmas, an extraordinary number for some reason.

“Come on people, what are you trying to do, kill me? I can’t eat this.”

Well, I would have said that, if my mouth hadn’t been so full of cheese, you understand.

So, busy, busy, it has been all go here, as you can see. Another day down. Now… what am I going to do with the rest of them?

 

Rogues Gallery - The kings & queens of the great street art movement

It's Gonna Be Hot Today

Buddy slept in my room all night, as I fell asleep watching TV last night. I woke in the wee small hours and removed my lap-top from the bed before I rolled over onto it. Buddy's claws scratched on the wooden floor boards in the near dark, as he got up too. I had a piss and came back to bed pulling the doona over me for the first time, letting the cool breeze from my open French Doors waft over me. I love the night breeze.

I woke again at 6.45, with Mr. Snuffleupagus struggling up onto the bed and sneezing in my face. Oh, lovely and good morning to you. One of the delights of bulldog ownership. He’s funny, as he is more than capable of springing up onto the bed in one leap, but most of the time he struggles to climb up like an old man.

I walked around to the shop and bought cigarettes, Sam would be pleased. I’m supposed to be quitting now that Mark and Luke have left. It was a lovely, crisp, fresh morning. There is a feeling that that time of day has that that no other part of the day can match. I think it is unqualified expectations, infinite possibilities, when anything may eventuate. It is alive and new.

I bought orange juice and brewed coffee and prepared muesli when I got back. I watered the garden as I smoked a cigarette and waited for the coffee to brew.

I put Buddy out at 8am. Only 8am, you know, there is something to this getting up early caper.

I chatted to Sam at 10ish. I wasn’t exactly watching the clock. I usually message him as soon as I get out of bed, but not today. It throws you when you get up 2 hours earlier, I tell you.

I came down and made more coffee, washed Buddy’s eyes, fed him and returned to the bedroom with coffee and the dog.

Sam asked me if it was hot in my room, and I had to admit that is was, so I came back downstairs at, nearly, 11.11, it was 11.13 by the time I noticed, so, it was probably 11.11, when I came back downstairs.

It was hot outside already.

At some stage, I heard the front door open and close. My first day of having Shane and Tulli home with me. Yay! I wonder how awful it will be? Later, when I went to let the cat out, Shane’s bedroom door was open, the room was vacated and the lights were on… of course… for someone who espouses Green values, too. I never quite understand that, is it myopia?

I got myself a huge bowl of grapes (lunch) and set myself up on the lounge room coffee table and proceeded to piss the morning away. Easy. Fluid.

I wondered if I should take the whole “job thing” more seriously? It is my constant (silent) lament. I guess, one day, I will have to get another full time job, won’t I? That would be the rational thinking, wouldn’t it? Er! Work. Boredom. The horrible people who inhabit offices. I guess I will have to do something, but now my writing has gone off, I don’t know what?

13.30, the first time Buddy went outside, after Sam warning me to keep the water topped up inside, he had the biggest drink of water. I love watching his big, pink tongue lap at the water. He’s got a huge tongue, the reason Sam calls him “Pink Tongue.” He’d make a good lesbian.

Then he tried to eat bees.

“No!” I squealed as I launched myself across the garden to stop him.

He just looked at me, in his laid back way and then another bee caught his attention and he snapped at that one too.

The last very hot day we had, the bees were all congregating around the dog’s water also. That day they ended up a big drown clump of bee carcasses. What is it with the bees and hot weather? I tried to hose them out of Buddy’s water, but that didn’t work, so I lifted them gently out with a trowel.

I turn on the pedestal fan as the lounge room felt like it was heating up.

And the day slips away.

A delicious beef salad for lunch

 

Off to My Cave

Around 6pm, I decided to go to my room to watch TV, since all of “my crew” have now left me. Change positions. Get more comfortable. Relax. Old habits. It just seemed like a nice idea, I love my room, in it I feel safe from everyone. Sam was sleeping at his place tonight, as his house is air conditioned. Chicken! Just as I was packing up my stuff, I heard the front door open and close. 5 minutes to late, I thought, not that I was packing up and heading up stairs for that reason, but, you know...

Shane came into the kitchen just as I was heading upstairs and made a big announcement about his last day.

“So, how do you feel?” I had no option but to ask.

“Oh surreal and frightening and very strange,” Shane gushed about himself. Big exhale. Big eyes. “I’m not sure how I feel.”

I turned and went upstairs. Well, it will take a few days, longer possibly, I thought. Maybe, much longer.

I thought of Mark at lunch a few days ago. “You know what,” said Mark. “That’s it, Shane just isn’t that bright, now is he.”

A bit later, I thought I should go and prepare my beef salad for dinner, so I headed downstairs. The TV was on and I half expected that Shane and Tulli would be sharing a glass of champagne in a self-serving show of, well, themselves really. What else would it be? But while the TV was on, there was no one in the lounge room. Yay! I flicked on Big Bang Theory and quickly got to making my meal.

I guessed they were out celebrating this increment of relocating with their friends. I hoped so anyway.

Before I had finished preparing dinner, I heard the front door open and close. Shane came in with shopping alone, no sign of Tulli. Tulli, the whore, was no doubt on a job. (I wonder how life in London will pan out living on a prostitute’s wages?) I had commandeered the kitchen bench pretty much so he sat down and watched Big Bang Theory, with that I-am-just-waiting-for-you-to-finish-and-get-out-of-the-way-so-it-can-become-about-me-again attitude that Shane has. If he doesn’t push in completely, he gets that nervous angst and hovers with twitching fingers, as if to say, um, er, me, me, me. I’ll, uncustomarily, wait then, um, I guess. Um, er, me, me, me.

He didn’t talk much. I was finished in no time and headed upstairs again.

Let’s see how Shane copes now with no income and no car, no cleaner, no one to cover the bills which he is completely hopeless at paying and, guessing, no money. He lives week to week when he is, actually, being paid, so unless he has a hidden account full of savings, which he may well have by one means or another, (termination pay out) otherwise it is going to be a bitter tail end of winter in old London Town.

Apparently, they have one weeks worth of accommodation secured. “After that, we have to do the gay share thing,” said Shane.

Sam rang a bit later. He said that it proved that I didn’t love Buddy if he was outside on his own and I was upstairs. I went and got Buddy while Sam was still on Skype and we both lay on the bed gazing at Sam.

Just a Little Coffee, Thanks

I got up, poured my muesli and brewed my coffee. I felt free for the first time, free to contemplate, so I knew I'd made the right decision. I'm still delicate when it comes to matters of work.

The failed poet.

I smoked pot and caught up on my blog and journal.

I lay on the couch with my hand resting on the bulldog’s stomach, who lay on the rug next to me and listened to Patti circa 1981 to 1985. Some of her best work… um, with a handful of worst tracks she had ever recorded. But with them all stored in itunes on my lap top, you can delete individual tracks. I’ve deleted 4 to 6 naf tracks, I can’t remember, which in my opinion makes the body of work infinitely better. Completely amazing. This is the first time I’ve sat, reclined and listened to the edited track list, in its entirety.

The sun is shining, the sky is blue.

What a wonderful life, Sam messages me.

It is supposed to be 39 degrees today, well, on Thursday. What day is it? Okay, tomorrow, but it would be right when I was heading out the door to an office. I feel like I am suffocating already.

It is sunny with a cool breeze, I dare say. it feels like the magical 26 degrees, as measured in the Northern NSW mindset, as it were, and as it is, allegedly, ever day in Northern NSW.

Come to the luckier country.

I ate toasted salami, cheese and tomatoes late in the afternoon, feeding the bulldog late, at the same time.

Then I discovered the Xmas chocolates.

Having Lunch

Just after Sam rubbed (the cold) moisturiser on my face (the cold waking me up, cold cream is my kryptonite), he bought the bulldog up around 8am, as he was barking at a jackhammer being used not so far away. Dogs are no longer able to bark in the 21^st Century.

I think the moisturiser thing on my face first thing in the mornings is sweet and I like it, despite how I might sound.

The bulldog and I slept together until 9am. Lovely. It felt like a slow morning.

Mark was up when I got up. Luke got up not long after. Mark went around to get lattes, pretty soon after that. I brewed coffee for myself.

I text Jack, he sent me a confirmation email. I went outside to have a smoke. I really don’t want to do it. Everyone was in the lounge, I couldn’t phone. So without a word, I emailed Jack back, told him I was sorry, I still had a bad cough from the cold I’d had and I didn’t feel up to the job. Sorry for messing him around. It was true, I’d had coughing fits all morning. No, really, I had. My ears are ringing. A formal interview with all the heads of department, and a very formal suit and tie office at that. No thanks.

It makes me feel like a failure, but who cares, I really don’t want to go and work in a very professional suit and tie kind of office for two months, maybe more, coughing my head off.

I’d rather play with Jill.

I reckon that is the only “get out of jail free” card I have with Jack this year, and I just played it.

I had to meet with all the execs, head of finance, head of HR, the current employee… who’d be feeling powerful and wanting to bring me down. I was vague, I was blocked up, I was coughing. No thanks, at any time, but especially after having smoked pot for the last week. Why have my last few interviews, scarcely any, read two, always come after periods of pot smoking? I’ve only had two in ten years, they don’t please me.

Just send me somewhere normal, Jack.

Now I feel depressed at my failure. I should have been able to go back to work like everybody else, after a nice holiday, you know act like a grown up.

Bored already.

But, there is always another job, that’s what I have learned from doing contract work. A couple of times I have turned down good jobs, only to have a better job come along shortly.

Mark, Luke and I ate lunch at Mezina, the old Smith Street post office. It was a glorious day, we sat out in the sun under the umbrellas on the footpath.

A lot of fat people walked passed.

A lot of hot people also walked passed.

A drunk told us his opinion of Lance Armstrong's apology, twice. A gutless drug cheat.

I’ll tell Sam about the job, tomorrow after Mark and Luke have left, when there will be less people here who would be on his side. He won’t be pleased.

I’d rather stay home with my bulldog, my new Randy Crawford cd, um, er, download, first time.

Sam came home as I was sleeping on the couch.

Mark and Luke went out somewhere.

We tried to walk The bulldog, he didn’t want to cooperate, until we turned for home.

Sam and I went to the supermarket and got ingredients for stir fry noodles.

We watched all the American sitcoms, you know, Big Bang Theory, Two Broke Girls, Two and a half men.

Sam went to bed at 11pm, late for “nana.”

With a full house, I never seem to get anytime to write. So, I sat up with the bulldog snoring next to me and bad TV on mute.

I decided not to say anything to Sam about the job. He didn’t seem that interested, I think I have, actually, said less to him about it than I though. I was just panicking. I’m just going to admit it here, and if he reads this he’ll know. It’s a good way to test if he still reads my blog. He doesn’t say much about it. And if he is, actually, still reading it… surprise.

We're watching you

I call this one, Groupie at a Guns N' Roses concert

Getting Things Done, If I Am Going Back To Work

I got up with Sam and headed into the city with him. I’d got my licence renewal and I thought the expiry date was the 13th and even though I knew today was the 14th, I figured I at least had until today before it expired. Buddy’s eyes were full of gunk, and I just had to clean them before we left, until I checked and it had expired on the 09th, it became more pressing. Sam leaves early, I’d get him to wake me up so I could get it done first thing.

I didn’t realise that Sam had prepared muesli for me until the last minute, so I had to eat that. All of which made Sam late. He likes to get to work at 8.30am. He had his “sideways look” on, as we walked side by side.

“Of course, you had to roll a joint,” said Sam.

What could I say?

“How late are you going to be?”

He’d still get there by 9am.

I raised my eyebrows.

Then I peeled off at the Exhibition Gardens anyway, as I decided I might as well just walk there, since Mark had my Myki Card and Sam has mentioned my fat stomach a couple of times.

I made “big gay hands” at him all the way, as he walked through the gardens and I passed by the south side of the Exhibition Buildings. he headed to the La Trobe Street, I headed to Lygon Street.

I walked up Lygon Street, nothing much was open, but lots of business’ were taking the first tentative steps towards opening, the city was waking up.

Then a hot Italian boy walked passed me in denim shorts, that fitted his arse big time, muscular hairy legs sat below them, and that woke me up.

It took no time at all at the Licencing Office, cnr Princess Street and Lygon, that’s why I went early. No sooner had I sat down, literally, that my number was called and the whole operation took ten minutes.

Mark, Luke and the grandkid headed off to the museum.

It was quite a cool day, not summer at all, not that I mind that. I like the cool weather, I’m not embarrassed to say it. Sunny sky with the back door open through which blows a cool breeze.

Did I want to go to the museum which would be filled with adults and children, I thought as I watched the graceful hop of a robin in the back yard.

Jack called, I let it go to voicemail. I knew he was going to call again, he called last week with a tentative offer. Really, so soon in the year, I wanted the rest of January off. I’d be happy to start in February. He text me a bit later, the company wants to interview me. Oh yuk. Tuesday or Wednesday. Yay. At least I don’t have to answer until tomorrow, that way we can make it Wednesday. I reckon I’ve 24 hours.

I pissed around on the internet for the afternoon.

And suddenly, Sam was home. “Really, where did the day go?”

We took the dog for a walk, at Sam’s insistence.

We did our usual lost wander in Smith Street when we headed out to dinner. We were heading to MaMaNee, but then wavered over YimYams, MaMaNee, YimYams, MaMaNee… ? We decided on MaMaNee, but when we got there it was closed. Mark and Luke then decided on Japanese, Shobu. It was nice, I’d never been there before.

Luke and I both agreed, as we walked back from dinner along Smith Street, as we told Mark that we think that Shane is doing the big daddy top thing with Tulli.

Mark scoffed. “Give me a break! Really?”

David scoffed, some time back, when Shane told him the same thing. “Oh, you are not.” But, I’m sure, David’s reaction was due to the short comings in the size of Shane’s cock. (they did go out together momentarily, of course)

You just wouldn’t feel it.

Mark and Luke’s flight was cancelled by Jetstar, they were to fly tomorrow. Now it is Wednesday at 3pm. They had connecting flights and hotel rooms they had booked, all have to be cancelled. They are pleased.

We watched TV.

Another day of Mark and Luke’s visit, yay.

Doing Lunch Like Lesbians

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.

Modern Lives

I call this one, The gathering crowd at the protest making conservatives nervous

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.

Cute morning tradie as I look our my bedroom window

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.

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.


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%.

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.

Bulldog paws under the coffee table

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!

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.

Home sweet home, flying in

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.

The beach

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 lookout

The falls

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 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.

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.

Dean exploring Minyon falls

Minyon Falls

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.

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.