Drifting Through

It was a beautiful day today, really. We have had beautiful weather for weeks now. There was one Friday, I don't remember if it was last Friday, or the Friday before, when it rained, but other than that, it has been blue skies and sparkling light covering us for weeks now. Not too hot, just right. 

The days are starting to drift, I'm sure that is not a good sign,  but boy does it feel good. My laptop addiction takes care of the hours quite nicely.

I met up with my neighbour and drank home made lemonade, after  we'd complain about Establishment X to the nice council men who came out to listen to our complaints. I was hoping Jackson would offer me a joint instead of the lemonade. When we walked around to the shop together the other day, he talked about the pot he'd been smoking, when I said I was getting cigarettes.

I came home and swept the front yard. I wondered if I'd peaked in school. I was one of the cool kids, although in my school that was more like the popular kids, who were at the top of the heap. I don't think any of us knew what cool was? We did, but no one thought they were cool. Not seriously, we were only just learning. I was one of the popular kids, it was good. I had a boyfriend in my last two years, the vice captain of the school, what's more. Such a cliche, I know, but true. And then I had a beautiful girlfriend by the time the year twelve end of year dance came around. I was always more interested in my social life than school work, probably true.  But all of that was such fun. Young and vital. Do we all peak in our youth? Everything was new.

I was happy sweeping the yard in the sun. And drinking home made lemonade with Jackson Wag. He's funny. He has pictures of muscled guys up his staircase. Is Jackson Wag gay? I've never thought that.

I have to lose weigh, I know it is making me unhappy... not so much unhappy, but old, no lazy. It makes me feel lazy. All this sparkling weather and my bike has remained against the wall for most of it.

I think being fit makes you feel vital. I think I realise now.

Dr Brian Cox is just naturally cool. I had hair like his when I was a teenager. He was the keyboard player in D:Ream. Some people are amazing, gifted.

The bulldog snores on the persian rug. A cool breeze blows in through the french doors. Sam slept at his place. I haven't eaten.

Bulldogs are beautiful dogs. He comes and sits next to me sitting on the floor and leans his head against my chest and goes to sleep.

It's funny when you are stoned. I'm watched TV all night, with the back doors open, with a nice cool breeze blew in, after the 30 degree day, gorgeous. I kept thinking I'm hearing breathing, I keep hearing it, it is definite breathing. I just keep hearing it. I could definitely hear breathing coming from the direction of the kitchen. In the end, I decided I just had to get up to investigate. I stood up and nearly stood on Buddy. He was lying right next to me, it was his breathing I could hear. I had completely forgotten about him, the TV has been good, ABC. British comedies. I jumped.

It was when I switched to a commercial station and I started to mute the adds. So I'm just hearing it intermittently. 

My head spun.

I wished I had chocolate and marshmallow ice cream. I only had chocolate, it seemed so plain, the oat meal of the midnight binge. I thought about going to McDonalds for a Caramel McFlurry.

Mark messaged me from Hanoi. stoner... I'm cleaning the kitchen from top to bottom... loving it... cos it's filthy... and now it's not... love that feeling...

I messaged back that it was a sickness, enjoying the feeling of clean as a kind of orgasm.

Entertainment Tonight came on and I am mindless on pot and chocolate ice cream.

Slowly, two of my favourite cars materialise before my eyes

Trying Not To Think About The Bitches

I’ve been stewing over the reports from Antony about the gossip coming from The Hags. I’ve tried not to let it bother me, however.

I often wondered what was really being said about me, by The Hags, when I was excluded. I knew there would be things said, as The Hags cannot keep their mouths shut. It is impossible for them. Insecurities abound, and huffing and puffing at other people’s candles occurs to build themselves up.

This is, of course, Antony’s interpretation, it is his version of who said what to who. But, it all fits with what I know of...

The Hags have an abnormal, and unjustified, dislike of my Mark, because, essentially, Mark doesn’t like them, so that part of the information rings true. Shane can’t hide it from me, he used to tell me openly, to the point where I was often left wondering if, somehow, he’d forgotten my relationship with Mark?

As far as keeping my friends at arms length, according to reported gossip, maybe that’s true. But who kept who at arms length first?

I don’t count David in that, even if he does have hag status. While David is completely focussed on himself, he does have a lovely warmth and charm as well.

As far as keeping my boyfriend at arms length, Sam just laughed and shook his head and said, “I don’t know why you listen to any of them.”

“The independent thought comment,” is just too laughable and barely worth a comment, other than to say some people follow trends, religiously, never missing a fashion, and some people like interesting and new things.

And the general filth of my house… some days when Sam asked me what the foul waft was in the air, I used to take him to Shane’s bedroom and push the door open. Sam used to wince, as I asked him what he thought it was.

“Oh… I don’t know?” he’d say.

“BO, dirty socks/clothes, smegma, and filthy bed linen.”

I think it is so laughable. I have two of the most anally clean freak friends, Mark and Jill, who would certainly comment. Mark would not stop chastising me for some considerable time, until he broke down and pulled the mops and buckets and vacuum from the cupboard and turned into his mother before my very eyes. Jill would hire a cleaning service, who she would meet at my front door, and she would direct the whole cleaning proceedings. If, indeed, it was as dire as Shane has been telling everybody. Both Jill and Mark have been here very recently. Mark complained about the garden. Jill hasn’t said a word.

I some times wondered if Shane knew how to turn the dishwasher on? Still, I guess, when you grow up with Mr and Mrs Poverty in butt-fuck nowhere, I guess you aren’t blessed with those life skills.

That is what I am going to say to The Hags, anyway – Sebastian, Dante and David. I’m sure they will repeat it, as they are incapable of not gossiping. I’m counting on it.

I told Sam that was what I was going to say to The Hags when they visit and commented on the cleanliness of the place.

“You know they will tell Shane that word for word…”

“I never say anything to anyone that I wouldn’t want them to repeat.”


Oh, I am just venting and I probably won’t say anything. Blah blah, blah, it is good to have some place to vent. Many years ago, I learned that the very best revenge truly is living well. I leant that the best response to all of The Hags self-aggrandising, boredom relieving, bitchiness blab is a dignified silence. If you don't give them a target, they invariably turn on themselves.

It is here I can blurt it out, exorcise myself of it, get it off my chest, and shake the ooze from my tongue. Then I can dust the muck off me and move forward as stately as a galleon.


Perry dropped over yesterday for a catch up. He said that it was nice that Shane had gone to London for a new adventure. “You know that I have always found Shane to be… um… er… hard work.”

This is from Perry who never says a bad word about anyone. It was Perry speak for no liking him.

Sam and I had a late lunch with Tim and Nicholas yesterday, after Perry’s visit.

“Oh what, Shane has moved out. Oh good,” said Tim. He looked genuinely pleased. “I can come and visit now. I’ll come over in the next week, or so, and visit Missy – she was Tim’s cat originally – and I’ll cook you a curry.”

So there you go, I lose a housemate and get all of my friends back.

So What Have The Hags Really Been Saying?

There is peace and quiet, except for the dulcet tones of a bulldog's snore, as I sat here with my laptop at 10am.

It was quiet here today, beautifully so. We’d left the kitchen in a diabolical state last night, there was nobody else to worry about after all, so I popped on some music, rolled up my sleeves and stared to clean. Pretty soon, I realised I was hampered by the overflowing bins which Shane had left me with – the kitchen bin, the outside bin, the front veranda. So, I cleaned all the dishes and was content with that much.

I have to say that I am loving my itunes, running music from my laptop wirelessly to new wireless speakers. It means I can dispose of my bulky sound equipment and space consuming cds. So, I copied the rest of the Labelle CDs into my itunes.

I spoke to Jill for two hours in the afternoon. Bitching. I can’t deny it. It was therapeutic. Cathartic. I wondered if Shane and Tulli’s ears were burning.


It was a sparklingly sunny day. Gorgeous. Gentle. Relaxed. Carefree. The mood in the house was light. No bad vibes, there is only sweetness and light remaining.
Anthony had, rather cryptically, told me there was news about the recently departed that he could only share with me after the problem housemates had left the country. I pumped him last weekend for the information, just in case it really was something I should be aware of before they left, and he told me some story about an apparatus that attaches to the toilet which one sex partner puts himself into head first as the other sex partner licks his arse. Quite frankly, I didn’t believe the story was something that had to be kept secret until borders were cleared, that, quite frankly, just sounded like idle gossip.

Okay Miss, they have left the country, so what was the truthful big news you had to tell me.
Christian


Were you really that stoned on the weekend that you did not hear my story regarding the rimming machine, that was the news. As for the pernicious little bitch with the hyena laugh and her thug, they may be turned back when they arrive at Heathrow. Have you thought about that?
Antony


I heard your story about the rimming machine, don't you worry about that, I just didn't believe that was the big news that could only be shared once they were safely out of the country.

As far as being turned back at the gate at Heathrow, my dear, I care not a whit. I mean to say, that I certainly hope that doesn't happen, for their sake, I hope they have a great adventure. But having said that, let me say this, I have all the keys to my front door back, and Amalgamated Locksmiths have been here today changing the locks, just in case there have been any copies made, so return to Australia ricochet style, if they must, and I am sure they will be happy cohabiting in Kyenton, with Mr and Mrs Dribblepuss.
Christian


This is of course one of the more wise moves you have made. I have nailed a notice onto a tree, Elmer Fudd style, with a photo of Shane and Tulli on it titled "Duck season Open”. This is of course a tradition when a person leaves X street and lasts for 30 days.

I must say that i think this is jointly considered comments some of which you have heard from me already, so i am sure it comes as no surprise that both your and Mark’s relationships are on the cusp of doom especially seeing you have both become so conservative and bitchy. As for the X street kennel and the general filthy state of your house, not to mention the odour, its all now beyond control and it has to now simply be left up to you to sort out on your own. Its also about time you stopped keeping your friends and boyfriend at arms length and start engaging in some independent thought, not just Mark’s input. Of course i must now put down my smoking double barrelled shotgun and cook dinner and i said nothing, i just wrote it.

A(ntony)


What? What are you talking about?
Who said these things? I haven't heard any of them? Oh, do tell. Is it the sad (drug addled) hags, yet again? Is this the talk from those who like to talk? and talk? and talk? and talk? After which, they laugh, which I can only assume they do to make what they are saying seem even moderately interesting?

I am considerably amused by them, don't get me wrong. How deluded some folk are?

Do give me names? I would be tickled to know?

Christian


I have just finished my fish and bok choi dinner and it was splendid. I have decided to leave out breadcrumbs and just dust the fish with plain flour from now on, also to make my own chicken schnitzels and kievs from fresh breast fillets. I just have to buy a small kitchen mallet. 

Now, i have no doubt that amused would sum the matter up, i guess if folk get together and talk about you things are not so bad after all. As for sources well you know them and yes it is the hags. I wonder what they say about me, i think im about to find out soon i will let you know. I also strongly suspect that Duck Season will be on in many households for a while. Get lives first, god knows nobody is getting any younger i think.

What are you and the lovely one getting up to this weekend? I have to up early to take Mother for a blood test and then hit Coles.

A(ntony)


Tomorrow, I have a builder coming over to give me a quote to finish the en suit in the top room and to assess the main bathroom to fix the toilet and the tiling once and for all. After that, I am going to investigate carpet for the lounge room. I don't know, I'd really like just to have the plain concrete, but short of polishing it and enduring the dust associated with that, it would mean just the plain concrete.

Then, I am vaguely considering renting out two of the bedrooms via a B&B website, where I can charge $100 a night. Maybe? Apparently, it is very popular. I just have to decide if I want that many people in the house. Right at the moment, I am so over having people living in my house, hugely, that I am going to have to give it some serious thought. But, owning a house in such a premier location, it would mean I could do that and not ever go back to work again.

Sunday morning, I am going to visit me dear old mum. After that I am going out for lunch with Nicholas and Tim.

Sebastian wants to come in the afternoon to pick up Shane's (chipboard) book shelves, saving me from calling 1800 junk, but I'm not really sure what time I will be back from lunch. That rather depends on the strength of Nicholas's dope. Still, I do want to get Shane's shit out of the house as soon as I can, so I can clean up the rooms. Apparently, Sebastian wants me to call him on my way home. Hopefully, I will be in a state where I won't even know how to dial a phone. He he. Big smile. I hope his taxi truck is flexible.

That will only leave the other bookshelf and the appalling white IKEA laminex desk. That is if the council ever comes to collect the mountain of shit that Shane left on the front veranda, as he assured me they would. (How long did he and the prostitute have to clean away Shane's mountain of garbage, one may ask? Too busy being fabulous, no doubt?) Of course, I can't clean any thing up until the bins Shane left literally over flowing onto the ground are collected next Wednesday.

Still, there is no hurry. The days have been glorious, sunny blue skies and a very appealing temperature. So I might just do nothing until March. Why not, I say.

Christian


I think that Mid March would be a good time to make decisions about the b@b, live alone for a while so to speak, and get hold of a couple of visitor parking permits in preparation.

Bye A(ntony)

And Then They Were Gone

Sam woke me up before 8am, asking me if I wanted “pink tongue” in bed with me this morning.

I said yes. Then I pulled the doona over my head. Sam pulled it off again, he doesn’t like the idea of me smothered in side a doona. He got in the shower and I pulled the doona over my head again. I have my legs and arms out and my head covered, it is how I used to sleep when I was younger and now I am returning to it, returning to the womb.

The doona was pulled off again by a naked Sam just out of the shower. He asked me if I wanted “pink tongue” again, as he pulled on his clothes. Then he was gone again.

Pink tongue is one of our nicknames for Buddy, because of the habit of bulldogs hanging their tongues out of their mouths and not some sort of oral sex routine.

It was already heating up outside, I could feel it. It is forecast to be 32 degrees today. I had to give in and admit that I was awake, so I got out of bed. The next moment, Sam came through the door, “Pink Tongue for your enjoyment.” Buddy followed with his tongue poking out of his mouth.

Buddy and I headed back downstairs and went out onto the footpath and waved good bye to Sam and pissed on the fence. Actually, I pissed on the fence, as Buddy waved his paw.

One day to go, I thought, as I sipped on my coffee and push the on button on my laptop. I'm hearing a lot of sticky tape being used and the front door opening and closing a lot. Ah, the sounds of packing.

Christian 11:04 AM – Good morning M

Mark 11:04 AM – mornin chriso, how is you. im off to the cuntrysie today with L, for tet

Christian 11:06 AM – I'm lovely, it is 30 degrees and there is a cool breeze blowing in the back doors

11:08 AM – tet? What's tet?

Mark 11:11 AM – ooohhh nice... bweezes... lunar new year silly... should be interesting weaving our way through the swarming throngs of bissy cley ferrying their 8ft high potted cumquat and blossom trees, completely covered in folliage... it's very surreal to see thousand of trees zooming down the road

Christian 11:12 AM – oh do be careful

11:12 AM – Tell L I will get him if anything happens to you

Mark 11:13 AM – we’ll be fine it all only moves at about 40 ks an hour... Ill probably sleep through most of it

Christian 11:14 AM – sleep?

Mark 11:14 AM – yeah well maybe not… it’s too much of a spectacle to miss

11:16 AM – hab to go and hab a shower now... I NEED a latte

11:16 AM – hab to go and hab a shower now... I NEED a latte NOW

11:20 AM – have a nice breezy day... you must get bored just sitting around surely... there is a big world out there chriso, and your missing it all... what are you going to tell young people when you are old and dying, when they ask you what did you do in your life,

11:20 AM – " I sat on a couch"

Christian 11:24 AM – Nobody is going to be interested

The sun was shining and the day was beckoning. I could sit at the coffee table with my laptop, as I do every day, or I could head outside, like Mark suggested. I’m wasting my life? Maybe? Just a bit? Am I? … fuck it! I switched off my computer and got the dog lead from the dog lead draw.

Buddy jumped up, of course, with instant enthusiasm.

Christian 1:24 PM – I was backing out to go to the dog park and first of all I had to get the builders to move their trailer from my roller door. They were smart, knowingly, or unknowingly, when they sent out the very cute 20 year old tradie in overalls, with floppy hair and a gorgeous smile, who was amazingly polite.

Mark 1:28 PM – there is hope

Christian 1:29 PM – Then there was a van at the other end of the lane, so I tooted and tooted, until a guy came out from establishment X and asked me if everything was all right. "Does it look as though it is alright," I snapped back and he looked discouraged and disappeared again.

1:30 PM – Then a delivery man walked up the lane to the pub gate, "I think you will find that that van is hear for the house next door... pointing to my house.

1:30 PM – Oh, I thought. Oops.

1:31 PM – It was "the travellers", I presume, final shipment overseas. Oops, again.

Sebastian arrived in the afternoon sometime. He made some comment asking what Tulli and Shane had actually been doing?

“They have had how long to do all of this?”

I asked Sebastian where Dante was? Dante had said to me that he was taking the whole day off and would be over early.

“Their plane doesn’t leave until 10.30pm.”

“Oh, I don’t care,” said Dante, “I am taking the whole day off anyway.”

“I think it is a case of disco fever,” said Sebastian. “Dante spent the whole weekend awake and now he has a cold.”

“Really?” I said. “He seemed quite definite that he’d be here when I spoke to him last.”

“Even on Tuesday night, when we had a final dinner for Shane and Tulli,” said Sebastian. “Dante rang and cancelled saying he was sick.”

There was a final dinner on Tuesday night for Shane and Tulli, I thought? (I don't always get invited to things, I'm not really sure why)

Sebastian and Shane went through the kitchen and Shane gave Sebastian what he wanted; pepper grinders, of varying sorts, etc. I don’t really know why Sebastian wanted all that stuff, but he did, as he made a point of wanting the small grinder. Oh whatever, who cares. I think it started off by giving Sebastian all of Shane’s gluten free food, I guess, there is camaraderie in shared defects.

Sebastian ended up with two “green” bags of stuff. You’d think that Shane would leave the “used” stuff behind for the people he has lived with to use, but apparently not.

It probably saved me throwing it all out. The salt block, for instance, never used present from Sebastian, which Sebastian took, thankfully, as it was heavy and would have weighed down the rubbish when I tossed it out.

I got the coffee grinder and the Kenwood, which is all I really wanted. I also got the TV and the hard drive and DVD player, which are the only things I really wanted.

There are numerous things Shane left behind, promising me that various people will come and collect them. We’ll see.

The rubbish bins are full to over flowing, literally. I don’t know what I am going to do with the rubbish now until Tuesday. It is a good thing I am good with distributing the rubbish, come rubbish day, in various neighbours’ bins.

Around about 6pm, Shane said that he and Tulli and Sebastian were heading out for a final meal – again, Sam and I weren’t invited – after which they would be back to pack the bags into Sebastian’s car and head to the airport. So, Sam, and I, went to the supermarket to get dinner, schnitzels, coleslaw – made for the first time by us, from cabbage Shane had bought and was allowing to, yet again, turn into a science experiment in the fridge – and broccolini, again thanks to Shane’s general wastage when it comes to food. Sam is always shaking his head and commenting on how much money Shane wastes, primarily with food, but not just with food.

I had to go to the chemist to get my stomach pills, which I had been out of for a week. We also got saline for Buddy’s eyes and a new bottle of Olive Leaf Extract. Apparently, the chemist’s computers were down, so they asked us to come back in ten minutes, so we went to the supermarket and then returned to the chemist. As I was paying for my goods, my phone rang but it wasn’t a number that I recognised, so I didn’t answer it. As we walked along Smith Street towards home, I said to Sam,

“Shane changed his mobile number, because his old mobile phone was his work phone. He sent me his new number, but I couldn’t seem to save it into my phone numbers, for some reason. I wonder if that was him?”

My phone beeped that a voicemail message had been left.

“There, listen to the message.”

“We haven’t been that long, have we?”

“No, not really.”

“It doesn’t seem like long enough to have eaten dinner.”

The message was from Shane. I have all my bags in the car and am about to leave, I guess that means I am not going to be able to say good bye. I value your friendships so much and I have loved living with you…”

I wondered if that was really true, that is what I thought.

“It was Shane,” I said to Sam. “Saying good bye. Oh well.”

It was a lovely sunny day and it was nice meandering along with our shopping.

“Come on, let’s walk up Condell Street to see if we can see them coming along.”

As we walked the last block to home, I could see the green Honda in the laneway next to the house. “Come on, they are still there, let’s run.”

Sam didn’t seem to be keen on running, so I ran ahead.

“Good bye.” I hugged Shane. “Have fun in London, as I know you will.”

Shane repeated his declaration of friendship and how much he enjoyed living with me.

Tulli thanked me for letting him stay.

“You are welcome,” I said.

Sam caught up and said his good byes.

Then they got into Sebastian’s car and they were gone.

Deluded Blowing Smoke Up The Arse of the Deluded *

Sam bought Buddy up to me and then he left for work. It must have been around 8am. Buddy climbed up on the bed in one leap and got comfortable pretty quickly. We lay there quietly for a while. I got up at 8.30am. I was awake, what could I do?

I continued with my facial recognition with my photo collection. I was determined to get it all finished. I especially wanted to get all of the mismatched photos sorted out.

It was a weak sunny morning, and there was a chill in the air, a summer time chill, fresh, the promise of a sunnier day, so I opened the French doors out into the garden and enjoyed the fresh breeze before the day warmed up.

It was forecast to be 37 degrees today.

I was sitting on the floor at the coffee table when I heard a woman’s voice in the house talking to Buddy telling him how lovely he was. I thought, which one of Shane and Tulli’s airhead friends is this. Oh, please don’t let it be a Jade type, please god don’t let it be Jade herself… even if Jade is really Jane’s friend and not Shane and Tulli’s. You never know what the outcome may have been from Saturday’s picnic in the park. It wasn’t until I heard Shane say Guadalupe’s name that I realised who it was.

“Well, you can go outside now,” said Shane. He had that “take control” “I’ll fix it” thing going on. It made no real sense for him to do that, as I was sitting just a short distance away, anyway. I don’t know what he did, but the next thing Buddy was growling at him.

“Hey!” said Shane.

Buddy growled again.

“What are you doing to him?” I asked. Secretly thinking, seriously Bud, what's up?

“Nothing. Putting him outside.”

I called Buddy and he crawled under the coffee table to me. I patted him like he was my little angel, which he is. (Bad me)

I completed my facial recognition, pretty much, for my entire photo collection, which is now extensive. At least, I did all the photos that haven’t been done yet.

And the next thing I knew, the doorbell was ringing and Sam was home.

Mike and David arrived, they were going to something with Shane and Tulli, but, as has been the case for a number of years, Shane wasn’t about to tell me anything about it. Something in St Kilda, probably some New Age nonsense. Mostly, I was hearing David ask if everyone had eaten. He is so food orientated. (And she wonders why her arse is expanding)

Still David is good, as he asks Shane the questions I don’t.

“So, did you sort out the house problem with Mark W.?”

“Yes, finally, I signed the agreement today.”

“Oh, thank the universe for that,” said David. “How long has Mark W. been so difficult about that?”

I wondered if Mark W. had, actually, been difficult at all. He and Shane bought that house as tenants in common, as Mark W. sold his apartment in St Kilda and put the money into the new house, where Shane put in no money. So, Mark W. owned three quarters of the house and Shane owned a quarter – I’m not sure what the percentage was, but you get the idea. Shane had been trying to get half the house out of him ever since. So was Mark W. being difficult, or was he just resisting Shane’s demands? Therefore, it could, quite possibly, be interpreted that Shane was being the difficult one.

It's a great house, and Shane probably shouldn't be selling his share at all.

Shane also seemed to have an unrealistic idea of what the house was worth. It is a big warehouse that has been divided into four houses. A few months ago, one of the other townhouses was sold for $675. When I told Shane this, he said that he thought his was worth $800.

“Oh yes, mine is bigger.”

“Oh bigger?” I asked. “Does it have another bedroom?”

“No.”

“Does it have another bathroom?”

“No.”

“So how is it bigger?”

Shane said it had a bigger deck area and a bigger parking space.

Oh, I thought.

“Yes, Mark has agreed to buy me out,” said Shane.

“Oh fantastic,” said David.

“We had two valuations…”

“What were they?” asked David.

“One was $675K and one was $685K.”

“So, how much do you get?”

“Oh, about $100K.”

I figured that meant about $80K, Shane likes to, um, shall we say, state things in his favour. (I mean, I guess we all do)

“Great,” said David.”

Well, there are a few questions answered, I thought.

I sat back and wondered about Shane and I. I felt that I had been on the ‘out’ with Shane for some time. There were too many functions Shane had organised with our joint friends from which I’d been excluded. So, I don’t know, I kind of felt ‘differently’ towards him. Childish, or human nature? Whatever? Maybe both? It just really means that we probably should no longer be living together, which we won’t be in a few days.

“So, how’s it all going?” asked David. “How’s the packing going, only two days to go.”

“Well,” said Shane. “I was in emergency until 4am with Tulli because he had blocked ears.”

“My ears were blocked,” said Tulli. Then we put some oil in them and then they were completely blocked, I couldn’t hear a thing?”

“And you are about to get on a plane,” said David.

“Then we used cotton wool buds,” said Shane. “And all this wax just started coming out.”

Oo, I thought. How does one get one’s ears into that state? But the wax coming out of the ears sounded like the job done to me. Why did you go to emergency?

“OMG! It was just terrible,” said Tulli. “I couldn’t believe what was happening.”

Tulli sounded like a child when he told the story. Sometimes, he is a very young thirty year old.

“Yes, a little child comes out of that big body, so often,” said Sam. “It just doesn’t seem to gel.”

Sam and I went to Woolies and got schnitzels for dinner. It was a hot evening, the sun was still blazing, so much so, that even Sam suggested that we walk on the shady side of the street. That is usually whinny pants me, suggesting such things. It is usually me who pretends he is a vampire in the hot sun. The sun shone down onto the ground in hard shadows across the footpath. The light and dark contrasted noticeably. 

Sam headed to bed at 10.30pm, with his usual, “See ya mate.” Buddy’s ears went up into the attention position, staying that way all the time it took Sam to go upstairs. Then Buddy kind of exhaled and headed off into the dark house after Sam.

Not long after, I realised that Shane and Tulli would probably be home soon and that I just felt exhausted at the idea, so, I packed up my stuff and headed off to bed myself.

Buddy was sitting by the bed.

I had a shower, as it had been a non-shower day and Sam insisted. “Disgusting!” I then turned out the light and got into bed. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” asked Sam.

“I don’t think so.”

“Put him out.”

“You were the one playing with him, I think it is up to you.” I don’t want to go down stairs again. Don’t make me.

“Put him out.”

“It is your turn.” My timing is so lousy, that as soon as my foot hit the floorboards of the front hallway, I just know the front door lock would go click with the key and I’d end up standing there face to face...

“You always do this, try to annoy me. You should just follow my orders without question,” said Sam. He’s funny when he tries his tyrant act, it makes me laugh. And it generally works, I have to say, as I find it endearing.

I was happy for Buddy to sleep in our room, but it was hot in the bedroom and he would probably be much happier if he was outside in his house. Shane and Tulli would probably be home soon, so I had to put Buddy out now, if I was going to at all. 

I took him downstairs, of course, he was resisting. He hesitated at the top of the stairs, so I gave him a good shove, which I regretted as soon as I did it. A plummeting bulldog would not help right at this point, not to mention an emergency trip to the emergency vet to have his legs set. I raced him through the dark house and put him in his house outside. Then I hightailed it back upstairs.

Not long after I got back into bed again, I heard the front gate open and close and then the front door. I thought there you go...

 

Gentle, Lazy Days

This is in the environment that they tell me where prospective renters are lined up around the corner for any rental property you may care to point out.

I ate muesli with peaches. I ate TimTams. I ate jam toast. OMG, with the right jam/butter ratio, jam toast can taste just like a donut. These munchies, I just can’t get them under control. If I keep smoking, I’ll end up 40 kilos over weight, before I know it.

Sam went to bed at 10.30pm.

I started watching Craig Fergusson and then switched over to Dave Letterman, all the time thinking it was funny that we get Craig before Dave, not that they would be the same shows from the same night. But, would there be anywhere that the late, late show comes on before the late show.

Well, that was the last thing I remember, Dave doing his introduction.

My eyes opened a crack to see the bulldog laying out quite comfortable on the other couch. The next thing I felt was my t-shirt all wet around my neck from sweat. I looked at the clock to see it was 4am.

Damn!

I gathered all my stuff together in my half asleep, stoned, unsteady feet and headed up to bed.

I slipped in next to Sam. “I see,” said a small voice in the dark.

“I fell asleep on the couch…”

“Shhh.”

I woke up at 10.30am, lovely. The sun was shining, the sky was blue. The kitchen was a disaster zone. I brewed coffee and unstacked the dishwasher, as the coffee cooked, because, of course, I am the only one who puts the clean dishes away. Boil, boil, boil. Dirty dishes hidden away in the machine, muesli prepared, laptop out.

Shane and Tulli seem to be in parts unknown.

Jill text to say she was going to the dentist at 11.15, and that she’d swing by afterwards for lunch. It was 11.45 by the time I replied, lovely, sounds good. 

I looked at my laptop and then my mobile back at the message I had just sent. I can’t sit down, I must go and have a shower and be like a real person. I mustn’t make the excuse of needing a shower when she gets here, it is just a little rude, really. 

So, I jumped in the shower and jumped out. I was clean and dressed at 12.15 when she replied.

Jill is still keen to renovate my house. She rang the builder while she was here to hear if he was still coming this week. We’ll see what he quotes.

We sat outside of Arcadia in the cool breezes of Smith Street and ate chicken on rye and drank pineapple and apple and mint juice and coffee. Not a care in the world, no jobs to go to.

It was a lovely, sunny day.

I went to the tattsLotto shop and did a quick pick for OzLotto. It wasn’t until I was walking out, that I realised there was no jackpot this week. Damn!

Then there was just enough time for an arvo nap, with Randy Crawford singing.

A Lovely Day For a Walk

Mark 2:07 AM
gaa nigh chriso... Ima bit pisset… hab a lubbly slip... me


My car is ready to be picked up. It was ready on Friday, but my incommunicado status on Friday stopped me from getting the message, when I was remiss with recharging my phone and taking calls. I always see it as a blessing when my phone battery is flat, but, maybe, in retrospect, not on this occasion.  Oops.


It was a beautiful sunny day, none the less. I got ready to go, first thing... but then decided, in the end, that I should do a proper morning, rather than just running out of the house. It was Monday morning and I was in no hurry. I had a shower and made coffee and prepared muesli and rolled a joint.


Then, I decided that it was a nice day for a walk through the park for Buddy. It was a bright sparkly morning, perfect for taking the hound for a trot on the end of a leash. So the two of us set off into the glorious sunshine of the day around 11.30am.

We walked through the Exhibition Gardens. Lovely.

We got to Sam’s office around midday and text him from the footpath. But, he didn’t answer, so we kept walking.

Two women told Buddy he was beautiful. Nobody told me I was beautiful.

We walked through the Flagstaff Gardens, where the hunky gardeners were cleaning the path with one of those hand blowers.

We got to Spencer Street in, what seemed like, no time at all.

Mario said, as I walked in, “Jesus Christian, I haven’t seen a dog like that for years.”

“This is Buddy, he decided to accompany me on the walk this morning.”

Mario moved cars around, putting mine in the driveway with its engine running.

I went back into the office, with all of the guys looking through the window at Buddy.

“How old is your dog?” asked Mario from the back office.

“He just turned two.”

$2800, sign here.” Mario handed me the receipt, I put my glasses on. “It was really $3200, but I looked after you, so I rounded it down.”

“Thanks Mario.”


Then it was me and my British dog and my European hot hatch sliding through the traffic. Buddy put his dark glasses on and reclined in the back.


Christian 1:27 PM

How do you feel now?


Mark 1:28 PM

ahhh... just a quincy bit seedy


I made pancakes with butter and maple syrup. I brewed a fresh pot of coffee, I put Bettye LaVette on and began to write. The pancakes were powerfully good, powerfully rich. I’m sure they were expanding in my stomach… like foamafil... after I had finished eating.


Mark 2:33 PM

how are your puncacke....


Christian 2:33 PM

lovely... but I am really full now


Mark 2:34 PM

piggy piggy piggy... poo... cried the farmers daughter phillys


Christian 2:35 PM

It is best not to think too much about them to much, at this stage

2:35 PM

😀

Mark 2:38 PM

the punkak

2:39 PM

Puking


I smoked another joint and put Janis Joplin on and lay back on the couch. I rubbed my belly and thought about going for a bike ride. That just made me laugh.

The day sparkled outside. All the doors and windows were open and a cool breeze blew in.

The bulldog snored next to me.

The music stopped.

Damn the wifi.

The phone rang, but there was no one there when the machine answered it.

The music started again.

I didn't realise how many of "those" calls I got, until it started interfering with my music.

The music stopped again.

Another one of "those" damn calls. Grrr!

The phone rang. Nobody there… again.

The music started again.

“Woman is loser…”

I patted my expanding stomach.


Buddy is such a cuddle bug, many times during the afternoon he will come and get in my arms and have a big hug.


We went to Woollies. The deli guy said, number 7. There was an audible tone from all present, what? Yes… drum roll… Fitzroy Woollies Deli numbering system worked for the fist time in the twenty four years that I have been purchasing goods.

Sam made crepes stuffed with leak and mushroom and bacon. Yum.

Sun Shiny Day

Camp Over

We were smoking pot early, well me and Anthony. LouLou never has any if she has to drive. I was smoking pot heavily, if the truth be known. Anthony held out his hand every time, despite having to drive, despite having to go home to his ailing mother, despite the crazies. I never know if he is meant to be partaking, or not, but then I figure he is a big boy, he’s been through it all, he should know better than I.


We had two too few beds, four houseguests, two spare bedrooms. Still, who amongst you who can claim two spare rooms in the inner suburbs?

Having people to stay, is a little like going on camp… setting up camp… whatever… even at this age. Funny. There were people spread out all over the floor last night, not a sign of it any where this morning. All cleaned up. There were a number of motionless faces out the back on the wicker chairs, coffee in hand.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

I got right into my face recognition software technology in iPhotos. I got all of the photos from yesterday done, and then some. I plugged a big hole in the ones that hadn’t been done. Nearly caught them all up.

People were quiet.


There was still the question of what time the lunch was, with Tim and Nicholas. I so wanted them to cancel too, but that wasn’t likely.

“When are you going to find out?” asked Sam.

“I’ll text now. Wouldn’t it be so good if they cancelled.”

Sam laughed.

“We can’t cancel…”

“No, we’ve cancelled already.”

Tim text back that they had forgotten and could we reschedule. Tim called after that to say he was so sorry.

“No problem, next week is just fine with me,”

“So sorry, we’ll go out for lunch next weekend.”

“Lovely.”

I hung up the phone. “Yeah, they cancelled.”

“Yeah, they cancelled.”



LouLou left for her mother’s place around midday. Suitably sober for the occasion. The bud I gave her safely tucked away in her bra, for later. I was going to give her what was left in the bag, but evil Christian appeared like a black mist and entered my body, as I carefully doled out what amounted to be less than half of what was left. Bad Christian. How those good intentions unravelled, and quickly.

I was thinking about Monday morning, having returned from the mechanic, sitting back in a, not quite, vacated house. What a nice time to be stoned.

We ate reheated pizza, Anthony, Sam and I. Shane went to an exhibition, or something equally fabulous. Just can't stop being fabulous.

So nothing left to do but smoke dope and play with my photos.

Anthony sat on the couch and stared straight ahead, mostly with a cigarette between his fingers. I always feel that it is such a relief for him just being away from the constant care of his ailing mother, that it is all he can do to just feel the quiet and the calm.


Sam and I went to Woolies to get ingredients for Tacos, yum...

I made muesli from the nut, sultana and chocolate and seeds mixes left over from yesterday. I rather fancied some deluxe muesli with chocolate pieces in it, for a change. Fat? Who said I was fat?

Anthony brewed coffee continuously. I don’t know what the coffee thing was all about, but he just made pot after pot. Returning to his seat to continued to stare ahead.

The afternoon was overcast and grey and coolly moody.

We watched Chris Stein’s Hanoi and Bangkok. The food looked amazing.

We ate tacos and watched Masterchef The Professionals, where they massacred a Sunday Roast.

The breeze began to get cool blowing in through the window. Buddy snuffled around on the floor for debris, the inevitable taco debris. He was fast, he got the idea quickly, he used his bulldozer instincts to clear us out of his way.


We watched Graham Norton. Denzel Washington, Nicholas Hoult and Bill Bailey. Nicholas Hoult is still as hot as ever. The dirty thoughts I have had about that boy over the years don’t bare being put into words, but he just smoulders.

Buddy took himself off to his bed outside, but then he barked a few times at 10.15 PM approx., so I bought him inside again. I can't have the crazy lady over the back making log entries, now can I?

Anthony left with a little number I rolled him for later, when he could sit on his back veranda and stare straight ahead.

Sam went to bed.

I watched a doco on Andy Warhol. The man who changed the world. An original, the likes of which we'll probably never be seen again. What an amazing time to have lived. We are ever destined to recycle many looks from the likes of him and his era, on ever expanding diminishing joy cycle.

I went to bed at 12.30am.