Nova Scotia

Hello – just want to confirm that we're still catching up tomorrow for dinner (just so I know whether to drive my car in or not).

PS: have a lovely, smiley day!

Kym

Yes, we are.

Christian

Lovely

Kym

If I don’t melt before then. I’m such a petal…

Christian

I know – I feel like I'm in a Salvador Dali painting... all melty and squishy

Kym

Man with ocean running down his face.

Christian

Great title for a painting (or a book)!

Kym

or short story, even...

Christian

Couldn't we run away to some magical island and spend six months writing a best selling movie, to return to Australia millionaires. Couldn't we do that, huh? Trev could hold down the fort. Look after sundry children. What do you reckon. I could meet you at the airport in a few hours. I think it sounds like an excellent idea. (Maybe some where cool)

Christian

I'll be there. You book the tickets and I'll call Trevor to tell him I'll be a bit late home (like a few months). Our options re location at the moment seem to be pretty limited. People dying of heat in the Southern hemisphere, and freezing to death in the Northern... Let me know where we're heading (will need to have electricity to plug the lap top into).

Kym

What about Nova Scotia? It would be cool there. It would be civilised. We could live on Salmon. We could take Max. Some interior movie about gazing out to sea. Something about whales maybe? Babette’s Feast with lobster.

Christian

Hmmm... sounds less inviting with Max along. But salmon's good – I like salmon.

Kym

Cool. Ditch the kid!

Christian

That Josh

Hi Groots!

Well I have had a time of it. It has been all positive positive cause you've been busy but jeepers, I've had Jen Barker nonesense, lost keys (10 000-30 000 €) and the usual reports time revoltingness.

Well, you will be glad to know that Alex M and Fabian Clerkson are BOTH gettings Tadels (like a bad boy disciplinary measure on their reports) and neither are from me! Ha ha, but they deserve it. All the other teachers exchanged notes in our various meetings and muttering dangerously and lowly in German said things like "Zis Clerksohn..." and "Zees Englische Studentz... impossible!" and I was ha ha I was weak as piss and sunk quite low but they got GOT (as if a Tadel means anything! however) anyway...he he.

And Victor X who always argues and who never gives ground and who invited a friend in with him when I met him for an hour to discuss why I have the right to say enough arguing now, now we will meet outside class if you want to continue, and this friend Yannick Y started taking NOTES on me (Mr Gale never listens, never lets Victor talk... and suchlike – despite my totalitarian coaching you are here as a support person for Victor, you are in no other role, you aren't joining in, you're here to make him feel comfortable talking to me – I could have fed him to lions when I saw what he was doing, forget the content; I confiscated it and snarled breach of trust to his uncomprehending face... what the...? he undoubtedly thought), well this Victor X is going to have to leave the school because officially the rest of the teachers have prognosticated he won't scrape through. Thank God my marks have always been generous! They haven't helped him and I will have to have that conversation with his Mum this week.

Naturally of course it's always my marks that are challenged, why a 2 not a 1 – and then when we all finally DO nut our heads together it's a very different story – dum fucks all over the place. And I am weak in comparison to the German teachers. I get in trouble for not using red pen etc.

The dull life I lead.

However, I had also lost the keys, which I think you know about. That was a mega-hassle. 'Tweren't good. But the janitor rescued me by just giving another key, end. I applied for insurance against key losing immediately and should now be covered.

Then Jen Barker spiced up my life and has given me grief for the last week – sick grief. I forgot that us all going to Granada was a big secret and blabbed in my exhausted and joyful to be talking to her state that Geez I was looking forward to us being together next weekend in Espanya. She was onto it in a flash and I still I wasn't au fait what was up. Huh? How could I? I'd ruined everything! I was so selfish etc? I KNEW it was secret... etc. Well, Gav had made lovely daily hullaballoo about it and it was all a surprise destination trip thing. In a second I was public enemy Nr 1 and was still trying to catch up. It was pretty insane. I was saying sorry and don't let on, at least you don't know where etc but it only made things worse and I was under attack. Jen said nothing but "I'm really pissed off" for about 6 times and I said er, "I think I'd better call you back" and hung up. Next crime of course but I was pretty shaken up. It was all so quick.

Then (don't do this at home, it's not advised) I emailed saying that I was sorry but that I was hurt now too – how could she be acting so childishly, where's her perspective etc.

So then the next day there was the email saying you did it deliberately, you are a sad bastard, we knew you were never coming anyway, don't come, never contact me again without an apology for what you have done to me. (God this is exhausting) and me (are you keeping up) writing back that this saddened me incredibly, she was now accusing me with lies and that I repeated – it was an accidental gaff – judge that however you like, it's not undoable and hardly not human – and that she was wrong.

Since then sleeplessness in Berlin, angst, consternation, anger, sad, busy at school. But sad also that I had to now not have the great holi I was hanging for, have been for some time. So I cancelled and have mulled over it. Two nights ago I sent an email I felt was really risky – it had the (repeated) apology in it – sorry your feelings are so hurt, as let's face it friends are worth such expressions and her feelings ARE hurt (and, er, I DID blab, but shoot me) but knowing full well this could be it, the last contact with a hard nose and spited Jen – poof, gone forever. Which'd make me very sad, who cares about current carryings on. I just wrote this wasn't how I wanted it and I knew that was how she would see it too and that I think the best of her (like holding off a snarling, scratching wolfpup – am I like that for you sometimes Big One?). So very cowardly I have avoided looking for the fuck off email or the silence for the next 50 years (and she never wrote back...sniff) and there is email from you! and email from Jen! All is forgiven, retractions etc, done and dusted off as she put it. Now my test of character is not to go OFF Jen Barker so, but Jesus Christ she was vile and horrid. I'll have to make sure the long term friendship thing with her is still to prosper.

Imagine thinking I would do that as a malicious act? That IS offensive.

Saint Chris – patron saint of Nurses, multi-doofed blankets and sensibleness.

Yes, now you've mentioned this boyfriend caper for a while now. Off you go, get out there. Wish you well – usual shopping list.

When Tomi is more better (yeah!) I will do the post thing or email thing, but I think he might not be able to read it or it'll be exhausting. Maybe via you.

Ab coming UNREAL!!! I will email her.

Yes well, babies. I'm just trying to catch up with Bern there as there's been movement. I always seem to be babysitting for friends and having pink pudgy little arms smeared/slung around my neck...hmmm. I reckon Utte should get up the duff but she wants me to poke her. Cold chill....

Yes, this Australian caper is getting VERY attractive – waiting would also be fine and be there in head and soul for 4 months or so. If it doesn't break up the Bern-Josh thing then for 6 months, which'd fit in with contracts etc. I sent off applications last week and have interviews for next week for teaching English etc – poorly paid, but if rent and airfare, food, green and etc are paid for I'll have freedom of movement and just say I won't be here from X-Y thank you Miss Fothergrey and I'll scamper off to the homeland.

Emilio, the scamp, has been calling for long talks. He wants me to be his boyfriend I think – I can't say to him we hardly know each other. So I cross my fingers and reflect about my thoughts of occasion to his donger and say, yes, I really do miss you (thinking, have missed you, have), while trying to remember what his face looked like exactly. Vaguely even. I DID say, I have a boyfriend in Germany, but having two, I sometimes think would be nice – thinking, is that the sound of breaking heart-halves I hear, tinkling down the line? No I say, Emilio is 40 and a big boy. Nonetheless he seems similarly excited by a longer stay and I have to think er does he think I'm coming for him? It's Chris Fletcher, Fitzroy and extasy dance parties doll, with Montsalvating on the side and trying to shake people up a bit that we DON'T HAVE TO VOTE HIM (Howard the Duck) IN AGAIN YOU KNOW? that inspires me. He is a fuck.

OK that's it I think. We have a lovely and delectable Brazilian staying with us and next week after Friday it's a week's holiday. Now Spain, but at least all is forgiven (...).

Keep yer wick up, and er yes, the writer illustrator bit is very romantic but at least it's carte blanche for a lot of employment carrying on, heh?

Josh of Berlin

Glued to the Lips

I’ve been over to mum’s to cut her lawn. It’s 39 degrees here today and 42 tomorrow. 

Oh, listen here Heuy, enough with the heat already. Fucken hell, we’re all fucken baked, don’t you get it, you big fucken myth. Get your big, white hand back on the wretched dial and crank it back a few notches to the left.

Who the fuck would have lawn? Do you know how much maintenance lawn needs. It seems like I have only just gone over and cut it, and it needs cutting again.

Still mum was pleased to see me, and that is the main thing. She rustled me up some lunch. We had a chat for a little while. She didn’t want me to go. It breaks my heart that she is lonely. She says she is lonely at night, on her own. The days don’t bother her so much, and most days she is doing something anyway.

Then it was a short drive across the Eastern Suburbs to see Tom.

Tom cried, welled up maybe, when I told him that Josh (and everyone) had been thinking of him every day. He said to thank Josh and that he could feel all the positive chi coming his way in I.C.U. Or something like that.

Today he was resplendent with such scabby lips, the likes of which I have never seen on anyone before. He says he’s not sure if they are cold sores, or not. He said he thinks that the tubes are actually glued to the lips in ICU, rather than stitched. He’s not sure if the scabbiness is a direct result of that.

He drank out of my drink when I first got there. He was gracious when I turned down another sip.

It’s hot! Hot! Hot! FUCKEN HOT!

I’m off to Bolago in a mo to escape from the swelter, but I thought I should write something first.

I’m supposed to be at Bolago working on my script with Aby, as I type. I dunno, I seem to feel that everyone wants a piece of me, at the moment and yet mostly I’ve been scuttling off to my bed room for early nights.

Tim and Nicholas have been fighting, lately, which has been a reason for heading to my room. Which I don’t mind, I love my bed so. Shut the door, shut the world out and I am washed over with that lovely feeling, alone at last.

And the heat hasn’t helped. I’m such a petal when it comes to the heat. I’d choose cold over hot, if I had to choose.

So, there you go.

Now I’m going to drink tea, smoke a couple of joints, pack me stuff and pop on my broom and whisk myself away north.

Cackling all the way!

How Much Water?

A koala is sitting in a tree smoking a joint when a little lizard walks past and looks up and says to the koala "Hey! what are you doing?"

The koala says, "Smoking a joint, come up and have some."

So, the little lizard climbs up and sits next to the koala and they have a few joints.

After a while the little lizard says his mouth is 'dry' and is going to get a drink from the river.

The little lizard is so stoned that he leans too far over and falls into the river. A crocodile sees this and swims over to the little lizard and helps him to the side, then asks the little lizard,

"What's the matter with you?"

The little lizard explains to the crocodile that he was sitting smoking a joint with the koala in the tree, got too stoned and then fell into the river while taking a drink.

The crocodile says he has to check this out and walks into the rain forest, finds the tree where the koala is sitting finishing a joint, and he looks up and says - "Hey you!"

The koala looks down and says:

"Faaaaarrrrk dude.......how much water did you drink?!!"

Life Goes On

I woke up feeling like shit. I think my first cigarette bought back all the bongs I smoked last night with Nicholas. I think I was still stoned. Think? I’m not sure if I had a giddy turn or I just got anxious about taking a sickie. I told myself to get to work. And I did. (Maybe, I’ve been feeling a little stressed lately?)

I bought Mersyndol for morning tea. Yum, my favourite. Ha ha. When did that pharmacist pull that packet away from me when I told her I really liked them? When was that? I pop a couple and all of the pain goes away.

Hello there young man

It's officially after the 15th so when are we going to catch up?

Kym

How about next week, Tuesday or Thursday... or Monday or Friday, for that matter.

I'm sure I've got lots to tell you.

Christian

Thursday is good for me because I get paid that day.

Kym

Thursday it is then, miss! ... er... mrs... er... ms

Christian

Yay!

(It's Mr, by the way)

I'm assuming you're happy to wander down my way and eat somewhere near my work. I'm assuming 5:30ish. Am I assuming correctly?

(Just kidding about the Mr – miss will do fine, as will missy or ms – not mrs though – I might get cranky and stab you if you call me that – or madam – I'm not fond of madam either)

Kym

Mamm, a la deep south or certain (idiot) Texan presidents.

Yes, yes, you assume correctly. All lovely.

Christian

Why do people call their partners to say they are leaving the office? What the hell is wrong with these people? It just makes me nauseous. (Not, actually, sure why) Get some backbone for the universe's sake.

Maybe I need to go home?

Christian

Ummm – probably for the same reason they call them on the train to say they're almost at the station, or can they take the fish out of the freezer... and that would be they don't actually have lives. Puke away and then when you've finished get out an appropriate weapon of mass destruction and let loose with it.

PS: don't forget to call someone and tell them that you'll be home a bit late (just got a bit of mess to clean up)

Kym

Rebecca left early to see He-who-shall-not-be-mentioned for a hair cut, around 4pm. I got bored by 5.15 and left too... like a junior staff member, as soon as the boss has gone. (except, Beck wouldn't care, so...)

SMS. 17.30. It’s so hot I might just melt! – Christian

SMS. 17.56. I’m working. I win – Rachel

I smoked bongs with Nicholas. Naturally. Potsy and Bongo, that's me and Nicholas, after all, while Tim gets plastered every night on a good Chardonnay, as he puts it.

We ate Chinese food and watched bad American television. So much bad American TV to watch. But Nicholas and I don't really care, as Nicolas keeps those bongs coming. The perfect antidote to bad, American TV.

It is hot.

SMS. 21.00. What’s the temp for the next few days? – Rachel

SMS. 21.18. 37, 39 and 41 – Christian

SMS. 21.28. Fuck! – Rachel

SMS. 21.38. We’re all gonna die, I tell you – Christian

SMS. 21.48. Well, let’s hope it’s quick – Rachel

SMS. 21.58. I’m not sure baking in the midday sun is ever gonna be quick – Christian 

from Josh

Well who would have thort that. We'll have to call him Sharen/Sharon for all that. Did they meet in Comaland?

Wonderful news, I was sending prepare yourself messages to you and Tommy you can do whatever you like messages. And you had this cute little optimistic positivism – he he he: you'll be good in a tight fit, so to speak. I reckon you did it right.

Well, you can tell him I have been doing some serious wanking for his benefit. For the least weekend I have dedicated every wank to Tom – sending him this bit of energy and that. After all, it's life forces isn't it? I didn't exactly say 'take THAT' every time I had to go down on my knees and wipe up biological genetic data, but the thought was definitely across my mind (and the keyboard, down the table legs, across the monitor) as I squirted away. A good cause! Nurgh!

We have been very sociable – going to clubs, saunas, dancing. It's because we have Netto the Brazilian (who lives in Portugal) with us. He's a bed and breakfaster I found and like a German guy (who was straight) we had a year ago, he's really nice and we get on really well. He's here to learn some more German and pays the rent (well, bits thereof) and is someone Bern can play sport with and who can drag us out and with whom we feel comfortable. He's very friendly, very good looking and gay. When we went out I was: recouping the New Year's dance that didn't happen; having a Tommy and Chris dance for your New Years, and also thinking, this is what Tom would recommend. It was great to dance with Bern who is being molto sweet and Bern-Dulyish.

Did I tell you we went to a gaylesbo egg/sperm thing? It was a bit full on – I don't reckon much'll come from it but we have been looking at the kid-option as Bern has been making some movement on it. I still find that I don't have any biological urge but I could well assist a single girlfriend and be involved happily that way, and quite involved. But I don't NEED a kid, much less one that is MINE or from ME. Maybe the deal though is that that's how you're supposed to feel. Dunno.

I have been playing with the idea of coming back for say 3-4 months in your next Summer, say November or so. Even of working somewhere in Aust in that time in something short term. But at any rate, spending some extended time in the motherland. In a good mood, in summer. So that is my added impulse to quit. But there is another one – I feel a bit of the urge to do some serious shitkicking. Do you know the Australian government has instructed Australian embassies to REFUSE to issue the required statements of singlehood/unmarried status to AUSTRALIAN citizens (as EU law for eg requires) if the Australian CITIZEN is going to enter into a gay/lesbian partnership – something perfectly legal in other countries? I just have to do something about my anger about that. Rant RANT RANT is all I can come up with and speechlessness. This, locking up refugees in concentration camps and handing over crown land leases to Cockies to circumscribe Mabo are rock bottom appalling and what have I done about it? At least some demos would do something for my wrathened soul.

Such good news about Tommy – yes, he can get better thank you very much. I'm looking forward to playing with him some more thank you very much.

My Mum wants me to take time to become a writer and illustrator. This is somewhat intimidating as I can imagine what it takes to start.

Bought “Loaded” on DVD the other day so some mooning about Melbourne mentally has been done. The extras were good except that they do wank on about how clever and talented they are and how hot Alex Dimitriades is and it's true he gave an awesome performance but it's just been Blue Heelers since (or Water Rats?) and that's been it, hey? I wanted to hear a lot more about the actress who played the little sister etc etc and less about the dichotomy of abstracted real desires to integrate and yet reject all that the straitjacket of his greekness represents bollocks bollocks buckets of spew etc. But hey, I'm not the director...

Well I imagine you've had a bit of a rough time – remember Nurses have seen it all and have hearts of gold and who cares – if you wanna whisper ANYTHING to Tom about ANYTHING (like Sister Dierdre has a Wingwhang, particularly things like that, then you do so. You can even do it from me!

Cheers Big One, then,

Am glad about the news,

Josh

I left home late. I had to catch the tram. I had to run for it, in fact. Oh, that moment I dread, when I come around the end of my street and I look in the direction of where the trams comes from to see a tram coming, it’s early, and I have just had breakfast and I am just getting used to stepping one foot in front of the other, and I have to accelerate like a rocket ship and if I am to have any chance of catching the tram at the stop lets say 100 metres down to the street. It can be done, but I have to suddenly run as fast as I can. When I get to the tram door behind whoever it is still getting on, my lungs are threatening to shred and explode out my mouth, like the cherry scene out of The Witches of Eastwick, except in this instance it would be bodily tissue hitting all those punters inside the tram door. And then I stand inside the tram gasping for breath like I am not going to make it. It’s a hell of a way to say good morning to the world.

SMS. 8.35. Hey Ben, Tom came out of his coma y’day & is, apparently, talking & complaining, so it’s all good – Christian

SMS. 8.35. Excellent! Tell him to shut up and sit still and get better. Feel free to slap – Ben

SMS. 8.53. That’s fantastic news. LOVE the fact that he’s complaining. I sat & watched Pride & Prejudice with Jan, hard to believe, I know! – Rachel

Mario was on the tram, the cute, wog, boy from level 30. I think he may have avoided me when we entered 600 and headed for the lift. He dawdled behind and didn’t turn up at the lifts until my lift door was closing. Oh, maybe I have perved at him for a second too long. Maybe he caught me checking out his arse. It’s a fine arse. Maybe, I am still short on oxygen from my sprint to the tram stop and I am semi delirious and he didn’t even see me and his tardiness has nothing to do with me? Who can say? Who cares? He could be so lucky that I look at his tush… lasciviously. Ha ha. Don’t you love that word? Lasciviously. I see a huge mouth drooling buckets of saliva and spital over its chin with it dripping down to its feet, drip, drip, drip. I see huge red lips. I see a huge pink tongue. I see an unbroken stare. I see a giant, pudding of a hand come up and wipe the thick mucus from its lips and tongue with one giant swipe, without breaking the unyielding stare, not even for a millisecond. Mario could be so fucken lucky that someone would even take a millisecond of such interest.

SMS. 10.27. Dinner? U could be my accountant – Rachel

Pretty boys all in a row. The food court was full of them. Blonde ones, dark ones and in between ones. Meters of dark material draped over round arses and nicely plump bulges. Adam, the tradie, talking on his mobile out in Little Bourke Street, nice round arse, a bulge and blues eyes, all in the right places.

SMS. 17.13. I want 2 go 2 Mr Wolf (pizza joint in St Kilda) for dinner, how about it? – Rachel

SMS. 17.16. Sure – Christian

SMS. 17.16. What time suits u? I am about 2 walk Billie then have a glass of wine or maybe the other way around – Rachel

SMS. 17.19. Tonight? – Christian

SMS. 17.17. Yeah – Rachel

SMS. 17.35. I booked under alias Rachel 8-8.15 – Rachel

I visited Tom after work. To The Alfred down Punt Road to Prahran.

Thor, the electrical contractor in Punt Road smiled at me. Funny, as I’d been looking at a picture on my computer, before I left, on the front of whose T-shirt it looked like Thor was written. I thought that I’d like a boy with Thor written on his T-shirt, just before I left home. I pulled back a bit thinking it was all in my mind, but, in hindsight, he was flirting, no doubt about that.

Tom is out of I.C.U. and back in 7 East. He looked fine, all things considered. He had on a breathing mask and had a couple of minor tubes in his nose and his lips were scabby, I guess from the tubes having been glued. He didn’t seem to have the energy to form long sentences or complex thought patterns, but the old Tom spark did return to his eye briefly, once.

He said he learned that he shouldn’t wait for so long before he calls an ambulance, if there is a next time. He said he nearly died and that he got a fright and that he didn’t want to die.

I only stayed five minutes, or so, before he said he was too tired and had to sleep.

SMS. 19.44. Tom said thank u for your luv & thoughts, but he’s not up to seeing you for 3 or 4 days. He is too weak – Christian

SMS. 19.48. He’s very frail. I only stayed a few minutes, before he was too tired – Christian

I had dinner with Rachel at Mr Wolf Pizza, in Inkerman Street.

SMS. 20.18. What a little pussy :) x – Aby

Nicolas and I smoked bongs until late. It doesn't take me long to get the hang of pulling a bong. You just have to relax your throat. We get into that continual packing of the bong so easily. they end up going down really easily.

Me and Aby

There Tom was sitting up in bed, making Granny Klampet look like a super model. Complete with breathing mask. And scabby lips – think about it. And a slightly wild gaze, if I am going to be completely truthful. You know, effected.

I regaled Tom with the story of Aby and my plan – well, Aby’s really – to smuggle her into ICU as one of Tom’s sisters. (Well, you know, when the visitor list was restricted to family) But we knew how testy he is – positively ropeable when Aby and I go to visit together… as Rob pointed out. Remember, Tom likes it to be about him… and with me and Aby in the room… well? Tom can’t hold court like he likes to and the thought of Aby and I there together seemed to agitate him. Oh, you know, he’s just come out of a death spiral coma and can be excused for being a little slow on the uptake, yes, sure he can.

He just got agitated and made me promise – 10 times – to call Aby and tell her not to come.

“No. She’s not doing it. It was a joke. Ha… ha.”

“Don’t forget to call Aby and tell her not to come.”

No, it was… um… er…” (I just couldn’t make myself say funny) “she’s not doing it. See, I’m here on my own. (nothing up my sleeve)”

“Don’t forget to call Aby and tell her not to come.”

“You make it sound like I forget things,” I said

“You’re famous for it,” he said.

“What?”

There have been occasions in the last six months where my only recourse with Tom has been to fix his gaze and count to ten. This wasn’t one of those occasions, though. I laughed and said surely you jest and kissed him on the forehead and marched straight out the fucken door.

For a minute there, I thought about NOT calling Aby… only to say (to myself) yet again, she isn’t coming in, there is nothing to cancel. It was supposed to be funny… 

Then I text Aby and told her Tom never wanted to see her again. 

She responded, What a scamp!

Early Morning

I sat on my balcony in the glorious sun and thought that I just wanted to stay there all day. Not move.

SMS. 7.29. (Rebecca) I’d like to take today as annual leave, what do u think? – Christian

I’m trying to justify taking the day off. I can’t quite manage it. Bugger! I just need to try harder, or give less of a shit. I’ve got to go to a play with mum tonight. Puts the kibosh on having the day free.

Rebecca never answered me. She never checks her mobile. It was a stupid idea. I went to work. I got there at 9.15am.

SMS. 11.31. Hi Chris, this is Leah’s old PA Ben. She mentioned that Tom isn’t too great. Please pass my love and best wishes and prayers to the deity of his choice! And don’t hesitate to call if I can help in any way. Take care – Ben xxx

SMS. 11.41. Hi Ben, he’s still critical, but every day he improves a little. I went & had a stern talking to him, he looked so small amongst the tubes & machines. He is still in an induced coma All we can do is send him good thoughts – Christian

SMS. 11.41. Rub his tummy for me and say the little dog hopes he gets better soon. The force is strong in him, we can’t deny that. You take care too! – Ben

Oh, yes, how many degrees of separation do we say there are? My ex-girlfriend – do we still call each other that? I’m not really sure anymore – who now lives in Sydney, her PA is Ben, who knows Tom. I assume he and Tom had a ‘thing’ I’m not really sure if that is true, or not, but they know each other anyway.

SMS. 17.02. I have been offered to take over the café on Beach Road. Fuck! – Rachel

SMS. 17.05. Go on, you know you want to – Christian

SMS. 17.05. As if I don’t have enough 2 think about. off 2 dinner at Jill’s. Wish it was alcohol over looking the water – Rachel

SMS. 17.09. A cask of red & plastic cups on St Kilda pier – Christian

SMS. 17.14. I’d rather a bottle & real glasses… our legs swinging over the side of the pier as we watch the sun set… – Rachel

SMS. 17.16. I find Jill’s house (life) so claustrophobic – Rachel

I left work early. I had a play to see with mum. Dumb Show.

The play focuses on Barry (Richard Piper), a fading king of television comedy, who is approached by two private financiers - Greg (Aaron Blabey) and Liz (Anita Hegh) - with an offer he can't refuse. But inviting the pair into the disarray of his private life proves disastrous for Barry, when Greg and Liz turn out to be muck-raking tabloid journalists of the lowest kind who threaten to expose his dirty laundry to the world.

I enjoyed it. Yeah, sure I did. You know, with live plays, there, normally, is always something to like.

It was on at The Concert Hall or, at least, the one next to it. I never really know what that one is called.

I put mum on the 72 tram afterward. We stand together in St Kilda road until her tram comes, and she hops on. You know, she's not young any more. I ask her if she is going to be alright and she says, "Oh Christian, of course I am. What could happen to me?" And then she is gone. I watch the tram sail off into the dark of St Kilda Road.

I walk home through the city. Yeah, sure, I often stop for a snack at the 711 in Federation Square. In the summer, it is more often than not a Slurpee, brain pain and all and in the winter, it is normally one of those faux health bars with sultanas and nuts and a yogurt topping. Then I walk up flinders Street eating, or drinking it. I walk through the Fitzroy Gardens from on corner practically to the diagonal opposite corner, you know, if you skew the maths somewhat, which just about leads me to the end of my street, you know, a couple of streets across and roundabout.

I always think of that girl at work who told me she would be too scared to walk through the Fitzroy Gardens at night and I told her the Fitzroy Gardens were perfectly safe, I walk through them in the dark all the time. A little later, I told her that I neglected to tell her that I was usually walking a 60 kilo Rottweiler, which she took as proof that the Fitzroy Gardens were not safe to walk through at night. I always think of her as I walk through the Fitzroy Gardens many times in the dark.

At home…

SMS. 17.21. She’s never moving! Does that mean never changing? – Christian

SMS. 17.21. Hmmmm my head is spinning think I may fall off this planet if I have 2 stand up – Rachel

SMS. 17.24. I know how you feel! – Christian

Nicholas called, as I was walking across Princess Bridge, in the fading light, to say there was a message on the answering machine saying that Tom had come out of his coma.

SMS. 21.04. (Leah, Aby, Jude, Jille, Rachel) Tom has awakened from his coma & is talking & complaining, so that all must be good. Well, I can tell you, I’m smiling – Christian

Aby called meet and said Tom was a sneak. She wants to slip into ICU with me tomorrow, acting as one of Tom’s sisters.

Chatting with Rachel

I got up early and wrote the Age Factor. Young guy, older woman. She’s forty, Angie, lost her life partner and has been on her own for a few years. He’s twenty, Craig, blond hair, blue eyes, sexy, of course, good looking, naturally. They live in the same street, and while they are not neighbours, as such, they don't live that far away from each other. She sees him and her shut down body comes to life, quite unexpectedly, as she gazes upon him. She is gorgeous, of course. She has long, auburn hair. Initially, he doesn’t really get that she is interested, but she flirts with him and he does pick up on it pretty quickly. 

Of course, his parents don’t approve. Well, I think his mum, more so than his dad. Angie and Karen, Craig’s mum, are the same age, and Karen is protective of her, not so little, boy. His father, David, secretly wishes it was him when he was twenty but, of course, he agrees with Karen, at least he gives Rachel that impression. 

SMS. 10.47. Perry with good news on Tom, Rick informed me slight improvement Sunday morning. Still sedated, breathing stronger. Go Tom – Perry

SMS. 11.56. Shelley Winters is dead! – Lauri

SMS. 12.01. I know. Boo-hoo. How gay am I, I've already downloaded her life story – Christian

SMS. 12.01. Very gay. Take care – Lauri

Shelley Winters died 14 January 2006, aged 85, Beverly Hills California, USA. of heart failure at the Rehabilitation Centre of Beverly Hills; she had suffered a heart attack on October 14, 2005. She is interred at Hillside Memorial Park Cemetery in Culver City, California.

I loved her in Rosanne.

Hours before her death, Winters married long-time companion Gerry DeFord, with whom she had lived for 19 years. Though Winters' daughter objected to the marriage, actress Sally Kirkland performed the wedding ceremony while Winters was on her deathbed. Kirkland, a minister of the Movement of Spiritual Inner Awareness, also performed Winters's non-denominational last rites.

Pretty fucken Hollywood, I thought.

I went back to bed mid morning and stayed there until it was dark. I lay in bed all day and watched television. Lazed away with pot and Sunday Afternoon on the ABC.

SMS. 16.10. How’s Tom & how r u? – Rachel

SMS. 16.15. Both struggling on – Christian

SMS. 16.15. Ca la vie – Rachel

SMS. 16.20. I've just eaten fish & chips and two drumsticks – Christian

SMS. 16.20. Nice, I would be looking 4 a beer right about now, but will settle 4 a nice cup of tea and a shag. Oh bum, no one 2 shag – Rachel

SMS. 16.21. And smoked a joint – Christian

I zipped around to the milk bar and got more fatty treats. Neenish tarts and Melting Moments. The really heinous ones that come sealed in plastic bags. My favourite is the iced apple pastry thing. It was the only reason I left my bed all day, well, all afternoon. What a great way to spend a day.

SMS. 17.55. Stop it, I am hungry! – Rachel

SMS. 17.57. I just smoked a joint and ate two neenish tarts – Christian

SMS. 17.57. Fuck yr a bastard – Rachel

SMS. 17.59. And I’ve got chocolate milk – Christian

SMS. 18.02. Think I’ll make tuna, parsley, caper & lemon pasta Halo hovering – Rachel

SMS. 18.12. Yum! – Christian

SMS. 18.15. My $1000 cat has buggered off. I will be so pissed off if he doesn’t come home 2nite! – Rachel

SMS. 19.35. This pasta is seriously good. The cat came home, just as bloody well – Rachel

SMS. 19.40. It’s just nice lying here – Christian

SMS. 19.40. U need a dog that’ll burst your bubble – Rachel

SMS. 19.44. Cats are ace. I could have another of those – Christian

SMS. 19.44. I think I want 2 have sex with my boss. I’m putting it down 2 the full moon co’s he’s a bit of an oaf socially – Rachel

SMS. 19.50. I think you should keep away from your boss – Christian

SMS. 19.50. Hmmm me too! – Rachel

SMS. 19.52. He’s tall, incredibly fit, unmarried… biggest hands I have ever seen in my life. I like nice big hands – Rachel

SMS. 19.58. Don’t we all – Christian

SMS. 19.58. The rule doesn’t always apply in my experience. Jill has snubbed me all w/e we were supposed 2 catch up, wonder if she’s ok – Rachel

SMS. 20.04. If ever there was someone who needed a big hand! – Christian

SMS. 20.04. She wouldn’t know what the fuck 2 do with it. I am off 2 have a bath. Ni night. Let me know when u are free & up 2 dinner – Rachel

SMS. 20.09. Do u think she does it herself… or just never? – Christian

SMS. 20.09. Chris I’ve just eaten. Do u have 2 put forth such an unpleasant image? P.S. not sure, one would imagine she does, but… – Rachel

SMS. 20.19. I think I need 2 make yo yos – Rachel

SMS. 20.54. Yum! Yoyos – Christian

SMS. 20.54. All mine. They’re in the oven smelling gorgeous! – Rachel

When I finally came down, Tim said, I asked Nicholas to move out.

Oh, really, I replied.

Yes, I’m sick of it.

And that was about it. I kind of decided, rightly or wrongly, that if I’m not in the midst of a relationship break up myself, then I don’t have to get involved in someone else’s. It’s one of the advantages of being single – being single, as Mark seems to like to remind me.

From Aby

oh Chris,

I'm so sorry I know he is your best friend... and besides that he his Tom, a rare bird to say the least.. and yet such is life for us all. Are you OK?... Can I see him or is he under lock and key? I want to break in there anyway... just to say I'm here, hello, you are not and Will never be forgotten... and his power to retain a tan is super natural to say the least! I used to use it to pretend he was getting better when I visited him... they sew the tubes to your lips!

...he has to get out of there one way or another... oh and his poor family... I feel awful.. helpless... little lamb... I sent him a text message even though I knew he couldn't receive it literally, I thought perhaps metaphorically he will... I want to see him... I'm scared I will never see him again... I need another moment.

How do I find him? There is a sound I make when he makes me laugh that no one else can summoned, it is a sound reserved for him and his words and I cant find that sound without him...

Ab

ICU

Sense of anticipation, sense of dread, not knowing what to expect. The second floor, now there’s a new local, I thought, as we walked up the stairs. And there he was, lying there, as much as I hate to say it, a motionless corpse, although, seemingly, tanned, so about that he would be pleased, the centre of a congestion of tubes and machines going clack and monitors going beep. It didn’t look like him. My friend, my beautiful friend.

Both Perry, and I, felt that Tom reacted, as we first stood there by his bed, saying hello. We watched him, still, his left eye open a quarter – the blue of his eye unmistakably his – his face big, round and smooth.

They sew the tubes to their lips in I.C.U.

Tom had a single tear fall from the corner of his right eye, as I stood there. I watched it slide slowly down the side of his face and wondered if it was just coincidence, but another tear didn’t fall. This is what it’s come to? This is where he now is. I gazed down at his face, as Perry chatted to the nurse about the equipment. You’d hate this, I thought, so you just have to get better soon.

Friday 13th is that good or bad?

There is no privacy in I.C.U. There is no quiet moment. I wanted to lean down and whisper in his ear, but with the nurse standing next to us keeping watch, it somehow seemed too clichéd under her view. Silly the things you think, hey? Doctors came checking tubes and then they went. So, I squeezed his arm instead, not wanting to let go.

The monitoring machine went beep, the breathing machine went clack.

Tom, Tom, Tom

I couldn’t stop crying this morning. I went and got in the shower and even that didn’t help. I called Rebecca and said I wasn’t coming in, with my voice breaking. I had a joint, I’m not sure that that made me feel any better.

I was going to call He-who-shall-never-be-mentioned to see if he wanted to have lunch, but after he told me yesterday that he thinks Tom should die – too sick, he’ll never be the person he was, he’ll never be able to live the life he wants to live, he will be too disabled – I’m not sure that He-who-shall-never-be-mentioned is the right person for me to spend this day with.

You mustn't morn him before he's dead, said Perry.

I’m morning him before he’s dead, I so am. Was.

Tom and I will be able to have a good laugh about this one day.

I lay on the couch and gazed out at the day beginning, well, continuing. It was quiet and still.

SMS. 8.54. Still on 4 dinner? Should I ask Jill? – Rachel

I spoke to Rachel about not going for dinner. The last powerful female (2nd last, Jill) that I know, who know Tom, that’s all I can do. The rest is up to you.

He’s probably ready to go Chris, said Rachel.

But I’m not ready for him to go, I replied.

Why do I have to go and say good bye to one of the greatest guys that ever lived when all those other wastes of space out there get to live?

There is no god, babe, just survival of the fittest.

I’ve smoked no cigarettes. I think I have had three joints. It’s 9.45am.

I guess, in the end, what will be will be. But this is a lousy option. This is not how it was supposed to work out!

Terminal

SMS. 15.42. 3.30pm. Tom stable or slightly better, still under sedation love Rick.

SMS. 15.45. That’s excellent. I would love to be able to visit him…when I’m allowed – Christian

SMS. 15.48. Hi bitch. How the fuck r u? – Christian

SMS. 15.48. On holidays from today. How are you? Let’s catch up – He-who-shall-never-be-mentioned.

Perry called and said that he and I can go and see Tom. Perry used the terminal word for the first time. He didn’t want to, I could hear it in his tone, but he did.

I cried in the car all the way over to my mother’s. It suddenly hit me that I might have to live the rest of my life without Tom. It’s inconceivable.

I didn’t try to hide my tear streaked face from anyone. I sat proudly at the lights with the sun on my skin and my red eyes and cried. If the world wanted to watch that was just fine with me. Let them watch. I didn’t care, for what I was crying about was more important than anyone of them.

I didn’t smoke all day, my lungs are truly telling me it is time for me to stop smoking. I am listening. I had a few joints, kind of replacement therapy.

Email to a Friend

I sent this email to Tom, as he lay in ICU critically ill. I just wanted to talk to him. I didn't know what else to do.

Tom

I'm so scared about you. You lie in that hospital bed, unconscious, in a coma, very sick, very sick. Perry and I are coming to see you tonight. I think it might be good bye, in everyone's mind, although no one has said that. It's not good bye in my mind, I'm coming to prod you, to wake you up, to give you my strength, to give you my love.

I've cried so much about you this week. Please don't die, because I don't know what I'd do without you.

Christian

Critical and Unstable

Fuck! I’ve just spoken to Rick de Brant and Tom is in a very bad way. Critical and unstable. He’s rallied and stabilised, and rallied and stabilised, and has been deteriorating again this afternoon.

I didn’t want to say anything to anybody. Rick told me how bad it was, but he didn’t, necessarily want me to tell everyone every detail. He’s a cool man, Tom's dad.

I sat quietly and watched television, Grey’s Anatomy & Third Watch, not really concentrating, just watching to take my mind off Tom, not that it really did.

It was late on the couch and Tim and Nicholas had gone to bed. I got to thinking about me not wanting to tell anyone and then I thought about Tom and how he would evoke good energy toward me, if the situation was reversed, so I got to texting. I called on the most powerful females I know. While the men stress, the girls heal.

Happy Days All Around

Tom’s mum called at 7am to say that Tom had been taken to hospital in a critical condition and was now in Intensive Care in a very serious situation.

SMS. 8.52. (Tom) I’m thinking of you – Chris

Bloody hell! He got an infection or a temperature, or something?

I so wanted to resign today. Same shit, different year. All the same incompetence’s. And then it could be all over, just like that. Am I beating my head against the same wall?

It’s too much.

Actually, it is all too much.

And then I come home to Tim and Nicholas fighting. Nicholas is stoned and asleep on the couch. Tim goes to bed.

Nicholas is lying on the couch. Beautiful Nicholas. Sometimes you/I can’t help but notice how perfect he is, it can just catch you/I unexpectedly/off guard. Imagine being so beautiful, imagine how that affects your life? I am good looking, good looking enough to be able pick up any guy I set my mind on. If I go to a sexy club, or a bar, or a dance party, I can pick up whoever I like. But I don’t think that way unless I am horny and want sex. Imagine being take-your-breath-away good looking, like Nicholas is. Imagine being that good looking? Imagine how that would affect you with the reaction of everyone you meet? Imagine that? 

And apparently, he has an enormous cock. He doesn’t like anyone touching, let alone going near his arse, so Tim, who was/is a top had to pivot pretty quickly, all according to Tim once he’s had too much chardonnay.

Nicholas has this thing he does, that I have never really seen anyone else do, which I am not really sure how to explain it. If he wants you to do something, or he wants you to agree with him, he fixes you in his gaze and he makes his big, beautiful blue eyes just sparkle irresistibly. I reckon he has some idea that he knows he does it, probably from years of being able to cast the spell, because he has this amazing smile that goes with the dazzling eye thing. And, I kid you not, it kind of makes you catch your breath, he is so beautiful. It’s not sexual, it is hypnotic.

So, I guess, you may understand that Tim is quite controlling, which is usually the source of their fights.

Yeah, but, truthfully, I don’t think about Nicholas that way. What I know about him is that is he is a really sweet guy. Nicholas is a lovely friend, genuine and honest, and that is the only way I think about him.

But, you know, after smoking bongs with him and getting stoned with him, and then he just passes out on the couch, like he has, well, I’m not dead, I still look. (Nicholas is movie star handsome) But seriously, I don’t think about him that way at all.

But tonight, I’ll give it to Tim, he was persistent. He kept coming out and waking Nicholas up until Nicholas, finally, looked up bozz-eyed, staggered to his feet and stumbled off to bed, of course, with a gorgeous smile.

Oh, happy days.

Away for the Weekend

SMS. 1.33. Suck shit in Victor Harbour – Christian

SMS. 1.38. Was that a little harsh? Sorry – Christian

The function was finally over.

Luke and Mark and I smoke pot.

I went to bed.

SMS. 9.56. Not harsh at all 4 that time of the morning. I am happily ensconced in a gorg restaurant overlooking the ocean. Big sigh – Rachel

SMS. 9.58. We should come here with pens and paper one day. We won’t have 2 talk, well, intermittently, perhaps… if we feel like it – Rachel

They were all swimming in the lake this morning, all the boys. There was a cute bunch of boys. I couldn’t quite tell who was who in their shorts and their jocks. All strapping, buff thirty year olds, horsing around in wet underwear. That was what I woke up to.

That was what I looked at while I drank my coffee and wiped the sleep from my eyes. I sang Soldier on with Codral, soldier on quietly to myself. That always makes me laugh.

I was in the marquee, starting to clean up, when one of the last of them was towelling himself off, by the end of the jetty. I had to gaze through the clear plastic for a while before I could tell who it was, which made it look even more like I was looking at him. He reacted favourably. Muscular bloke’s body. Black jocks. Good legs. Nice bulge. As I realised it was Mr Blue Eyes, he must have realised it was me. He gave me a long lingering look, as he dried his stomach.

I went over and had a cigarette with him, I'm not usually that forward.

"Nice day we're having," I said.

"A good day for it," he replied. As I looked over at him, he had the towel inside his jocks, drying his cock. He held my gaze, so I couldn't look down, or at least he'd see me look. I couldn't help but to look down. I could see his pubes and the base of his thick shaft. "This is a nice spot." His hand rapped around under his balls. "You have here." He had a strip of hair running up his stomach, I love that. I looked away, I couldn't have been sure that I wasn't staring. I didn't look back, after that. I spoke, staring straight ahead. He pulled his pants on.

SMS. 10.24. (Rachel) I have all our pen & paper conversations from o/s – Christian

SMS. 10.29. (Rachel) I’m surrounded by camping wedding guests, now I look out my bathroom window. I might flash granny – Christian

SMS. 10.32. (Tom) Morning miss, beautiful day. How was your night? – Christian

I watched Mr Blue Eyes come into the marquee for brunch, he smiled. I kept glancing at him, he kept looking over at me and smiling. Those slightly confused, but knowing, straight boy eyes. Half turned on, half anxious.

Handsome, country boy face. Dark blonde, sandy hair. Beautiful blue, smiley eyes. Deep tan. In his thirties.

When we were serving breakfast, I stood by the food and he was in my direct vision. White singlet, hairy chest. He kept looking over and smiling. Our eyes kept connecting. At the end of serving, I ate a sausage. I just had it in my mouth, as he looked over. That’s your cock, buddy, I thought, as I held his gaze. I bit through it. He looked away. He smiled.

I sat with Aby and Luke and LouLou. and Mark after everyone had finished. Mr Blue Eyes was chatting with some people, again he kept looking over. He was jigging his foot the whole time.

We all mingled in front of the house, as they were all leaving. Mr Blue Eyes came out and chatted. I kept catching his eye, kind of nervous.

Solid build, gentle manner. How I wanted to go down on him.

His wife was nice. They have three kids.

It would be hot to have sex with him behind her back, I thought, as I gazed at the front of his pants. I slid my eyes up to his, he was looking. No expression change on his face, just that slight, nervous smile and those intense eyes. He looked over at me. He checked his fly, subtly. Someone talked to him, he looked away. He glanced back as soon as he could. I looked away.

He shook my hand warmly and smiled straight into my eyes as he said good bye. "Good to meet you. Hope to see you again." Just a hint of that knowing smile.

“Yeah, good to meet you too. Until next time,” I said.

"Until next time," he said. He did that nervous smile, look away, look back, as if he was going to say something more, but there was nothing more to say, and he looked away for good.

SMS. 16.28. Night was bad. Had a fever. Might have to go back to hospital. Ugh! – Tom

The end of the weekend. The glorious weekend was dimming for the afternoon. Aby and I missed saying goodbye to each other, as we got ready to leave Bolago. I text Aby as she drove up the driveway.

SMS. 18.42. Bye – Christian 

Bolago, country Victoria