It's Nothing You Haven’t Seen Before

I watched Avatar with Shane last night, only on dvd, admittedly. Hmm? Yeah. James Cameron mixed Bambi with the Empire Strikes Back. What was the big deal? It was nothing we’d not seen before. Tell people something is new and they are sucked in oh so easily. There has even been a movie with set in trees just like that, what was that called?

Jill was right when she said, It's nothing you haven’t seen before. I expected her to enthuse, being the si-fi buff, but she didn't. It kind of put me off seeing it until now.

I’m Sorry To Disturb You On Your Days Off, He Says

Sam wakes me sometime after 8am and says I have to get up. His face gazing down at me is a nice way to wake up. 

I’m sorry to disturb you on your day off, he says. Then he laughs... so I don’t believe him. 

It crosses my mind to comment on the sweet smelling stuff he has on, but I think better of it. I like boys to smell natural, I have to say. 

Note to self, work on Sam’s after shave habit.

He misses his train; it crosses the crossing, just up the road, as we step out onto the street. It’s 8.30. 

I say good bye.

He looks at me with wide eyes.

I can drive you, I offer almost as a defence mechanism.

Sydney Road is a remarkably easy drive. I wonder if it is because of school holidays. I drive him to my turn off on Royal Parade – Cemetery Road West – and he catches a tram to work.

I'm thinking breakfast.

I head to the supermarket to buy milk, on Jackson’s recommendation. I don’t know how, but Jackson and I get to talking about the price of milk at Coles, last Sunday over lunch. 

Funny the things you talk about when you aren’t stoned off ya bonce.

You can get 3 litres of no-name brand milk for $3 something, said Jackson. 

I pay $5 at the milk bar for 2 litres of Rev. I never think about such things. I guess that is what they count on.

Jackson’s right, 3 litres for $3.50. I’m surprised. I remind myself that the supermarket and the milk bar are not that much different in distance, from my front door, certainly no difference especially if you consider the large price difference. And now that they have those self service checkouts, the supermarket seems much more appealing that it did once when the thought about standing in the queues drove me to the milk bar. I tell myself not to be so slack.

I’m home by 9am with milk and a newspaper and a blueberry bagel, which turns out not to be so good.

I Didn’t See Her, He Said

Sam and I walk to work together, from my place.

On the corner of Bourke and Exhibition, there was a woman, clearly drunk, obviously homeless, dirty and unkempt, hanging from a pole outside Elephant & Wheelbarrow. I looked at her closely, as we walked passed. She probably wasn’t that old, maybe forty, probably not even. Her gaze was blank and staring off into nowhere. She was quite good looking, or at least, she would have been if not for the grime and the degradation and it struck me, how does that happen? A life of abuse, from family and/or addictions? A life of hardship? A few bad choices? How? 

A flash of her pretty face, together and loved, flashed in my mind, as I looked away. I could see her in another role, competent and succeeding in life, just momentarily. I could see her living another life...

I looked back, she hung from the pole. She didn’t look at me, or see me looking. What will happen to her, I thought? We all walked passed her, seemingly, not caring. Me too. 

I felt sad for her... but, that is not enough.

Sam asked what I was looking at.

That woman.

What woman?

Back there, holding on to the pole, homeless.

He shrugged. I didn’t see her, he said.

That’s kind of the problem, I said.

Booking Tickets Late

I go on line to book the tickets to the Gold Coast for Tim’s birthday, late. I'm just off to bed, I'm shutting down my computer, I look at the wall paper I created, BOOK YOUR TICKETS TO QUEENSLAND!

I hate booking tickets on line, I don’t know why... flying by the seat of my pants, ha, ha, not really knowing what I am doing, a-ha, I guess, is the reason.

The first thing I do is tip my glass of water into my keyboard. Doh! Water goes every where. This is not starting out well. I think about giving up once I have the water mopped off my desk finally, but I don't. You can do this, YOU CAN DO THIS NOW!

I get the tickets booked by midnight.

So, no more of Tim and Nicholas asking, Have you booked those tickets. And me squirming with my admission that I still haven't. Them looking at each other as though they are convinced I don't want to go.

Last Sunday they both asked me. Then, when I said I hadn't, they both handed me copies of their itineraries, both saying that it might help.

Okay, okay, I thought.

So, Gold Coast here we come!

Would you believe me if I told you I'd never been to the Gold Coast before?

What?

Sam keeps commenting on my writer's mind and his computer mind. He says my fictional brain screws with the meaning of things far too much for his analytical brain. 

We have to continually be careful not to miss each other's meaning. Actually, that translates as I can screw with his thought processes so that he misses my meaning.

He's gorgeous though. He just gives me that look, that half smile, those eyes and I say, "What?" Mock-grimace, hands in the air. And then his face breaks into a full smile and he shakes his head.

"I can re-phrase?" I offer.

"No. You don't need to. You are funny."

“One day you’ll learn that life isn’t all iphones and ipads, you know.”

“And one day you’ll learn that it is.”

Then we both laugh.

It's funny the things people think about you, hey? I mean, I work with figures all day, so, I mean, how esoteric can I really be? Huh? I mean to say?

I mean, one of the most "Ah!" moments of my life came only a few years ago when I met a new guy. I was talking about how I like to write, but when he found out what I did for a living he declared, laughing, I might add shrilly, You're not a writer, you are an accountant. Ah! Suffice to say, he didn't make it passed the second date.

I didn't like to be rude and say to Sam, No buddy, it's your computer nerd brain that you are highlighting here, not my avantgarde way of expressing myself. Maybe, I should start using parchment and blood ink, delivering messages by pigeon, rather than texting? Or maybe, I should talk in Elizabethan English?

He wraps those perfect legs of his around you and holds you tight, as he stares into your eyes making you feel like the only person in the world. 

I Shook My Head

Shane complained that David had eaten all of his Nutella. David complained that he was being unfairly accused. But, David has an incredible appetite and was always to blame for food when it went missing. He's a pig, there, I've said it. He can eat his own body weight without breaking a sweat. Not to mention the nights he got on the Stillnox and raided the fridge in a coma. We used to call it his Heath Ledger mix. What was it he used to take, Trammil, Mobic, Stillnox and Valium.

Oh yes, a very Zen Yogi... nothing but the "moves" (should that read positions?) and the "good word", you know how it is.

The truth of the matter is that it was me who ate the Nuttella. You know, a late night snack on toast, a boy gets hungry. I never meant to hide it, I didn't need to. I was going to own up, but when it turned out that David got the blame, well, what the hell. I've made sure that I haven't eaten any of it since David moved out.

Shane said to me today, "See..." holding up the half empty Nutella bottle... "Nothing gone since David left, I knew he was lying."

I smiled. "You know what he's like."

"The fact that he could look me right in the eye and tell lies like that."

I shook my head. "Some people."

Pinch Punch First of the Month!

 

After they did their first of the month routine, Mitch and Caleb wrestled, good heartedly, laughing most with the struggle, until Caleb was pinned down on his front and his light blue shorts and black jocks were down around his ankles, and Mitch was all over him.

Marvellous Melbourne

I love Melbourne, I guess because it is my home town. It is a shame that property developers have been allowed to destroy it. It's a shame that property developers are continuing to destroy it. I can't imagine what tourists would come here to see.

I love that it is multicultural.

I love it being a tram city.

I love its eclectic lane ways, it's avant-garde pretensions. I've really been loving the food lane way next to the GPO. Sam and I have been heading their for Japanese at lunch time. The overhead heaters are toasty.

I love that the people unabashedly wear black to make it a very black city. It's so noticeable in the winter with everyone in their black woollen coats.

Pity, I'm finding city living less and less appealing. Maybe I might just surprise every one and go and live... oh, I don't know... somewhere else.

Oh, maybe I just like to fucken whinge. I'm not sure which, any more. It's no longer the meek who shall inherit the earth, it is the whiners.

Did I tell you about Sunday?

I went to visit my mum nice and early, you know, get it over and done with. Is that terrible? I slipped in next to her and sat with her as she watched the soccer on the giant TV. She looks so excited whenever she sees me now. It's sad and joyous all at the same time.

I forgot her mints, so we drove up to the shop to buy some. She loves going out for drives now. Small things... I guess we've all got it to look forward to. She looks so cute, when she buttons her jacket up to her neck and puts on her hat.

I went straight to Nicholas and Tim’s after mum. Nicolas has just picked up his new car and, of course, Tim doesn’t drive, doesn’t have a licence, so, Nicholas asked me to take him driving. He was good too, considering he doesn’t have many people in his life who drive. He’s done it all on his own, good for him. Tim hasn’t been very encouraging, it’s just not his thing, driving. He's not so good beyond his own interests. I think he holds Nicholas back sometimes, but, who am I to judge other people's relationships.

We dropped into see our friend Sara, who turned down our lunch offer. How's that? What is she like! She was the first to crunch Nicholas' door on the blue stone gutter. Scraunch!!!!!!! He looked distressed, I told him he just had to expect it. We had lunch in St Kilda, which Nicholas said was a perv-fest. Tim keeps the beautiful Nicholas on a short leash. He’s so funny when Tim isn’t around, much more relaxed. I ate chicken parmigiana, Nicholas had a BLT. Pineapple juice and coke. It was a lovely day sitting out in the sun watching the world go by.
We picked Tim up from our other friend Helen’s, later in the afternoon. They’d been to Chadstone shopping. Tim bought a new dinner set - he seemed more interested in that than the progress Nicholas was making with his driving.
We got back to their place around 6pm.

Shane sms’d me not long after, if you are home can you stir the soup. I was really ready to leave Tim and Nicholas’s, but I was watching a doco on deep sea fishing and had been just too lazy, up until that point, to get off my fat arse, despite the fact that their heating had been broken for a week and it was cold. Tim had wrapped himself up in a blanket by this stage, with a chardonnay. Natch! I took Shane’s sms as a sign and said I had to go.

I came home to the house full of smoke! The soup had, practically, turned black on the top of the stove, probably ready to burst into flames. It stank, with acrid smoke. It even stank up stairs. A thick plume hung over the lounge, once I switched the light on, a dark cloud hugging the ceiling. All that was missing was a few burly firemen appearing out of the haze.
Shane and Sebastian had left the soup on while they went shopping, but they'd hit a bar in Smith Street on the way back, getting rotten drunk on Montenegro (Vodka with Cacao) and, presumably, had lost track of time.

I thought, after what happened in the last few weeks, one would understand if I was a little sensitive about such things, as I threw the windows and doors open. I lit a fire, so then at least there was some heat being generated to counteract the cold gushing in.

Shane and Sebastian arrived home not long after, laughing and too drunk to care really, falling about in the kitchen, thinking it was a huge joke.
“Oh Jesus!”
“Jesus fuck!”
Ha, ha, ha, snigger, snigger, snigger.

Ms Hepburn

It's funny, when I talk to one of my mother's friends on the phone, I could be talking to Katherine Hepburn.

Now blind Joan – macular degeneration, who still manages to live at home, on her own – talking about Lottie going into care.

"She's better off, Christian," she boomed down the phone. "Better off. You have done all you can do."

I don't get the association in person, but on the phone, it is uncanny.

I feel like I want to call her up some days and ask her to talk about Spencer for a bit.

Sparkling bright.

Beauty, the pool where radiance

lives momentarily.

Nick walking the catwalk

No Training Required?

You know what this idiot state govt has gone and done now? They've given Vic Roads men the same authority to fine motorists as the police. Clearly, no police training is actually required, one would assume?

Or is this a militia? The first sign of privatisation?

Surely the state can't be that hard up? I thought the economy was strong? Don't we have enough coppers? Is this a part of the continual droning on about law and order?

If we need more police, why don't we employ more police?

People are funny

Beck said to me last week that she wanted to take Monday off instead of today, as it’s her mother’s birthday on the weekend and she asked me if I could work. Sure, I said. Then today we were talking about stuff for next week that we’d get done on Tuesday.

“Am I working Tuesday?”

“Aren’t you going to be here?” She had that look on her face.

I just thought since I was working Monday that I’d take Tuesday off. Silly me. “Oh... I can be.”

“It’s the end of the financial year, you know, I’ll need you to work as much as you can.” Still that look and that tone Beck gets when she is stressed.

“Sure, okay.” I tried not to feel pissed off, but, you know, I was. So you're having your day off, but some how, I'm not. Beck has been complaining about people who only think of themselves all week. It was the end of the day and I left as soon as I could.

Never ceases to amaze me how funny... odd, people can be.

Then I walked out of the front door, putting a cigarette in my mouth as I exited, still fighting feeling pissed off. It was raining quite heavily, bouncing in big drops on the bitumen of Bourke Street. There was a heavily pregnant woman who jumped at the sight of my cigarette.

“Disgusting,” she said at me.

It’s just rude, really. The licence some people think they have. The fresh wind was blowing all around us, what did she think was going to happen? A birth defect because of my cigarette, quite possibly?

You know the type, thinks she is making a grand sacrifice to the world by reproducing, acts like she is the only woman who has ever been pregnant. Me, me, me, me, as pregnant woman so want to do now a days.

Oh, settle down, I thought. I walked passed her and lit it. I waited for her to complain, as I watched the rain fall. I was ready to laugh at her, if she did. But she didn’t and I didn’t look back.

Oh, maybe I was just tired, you know, end of the week and all. But...

My Cute Man

Sam stayed last night, for only the second time. He came over after work and hung out for the night. We watched teev and ate Vietnamese and cuddled on the couch. Shane got more and more pissed, Sam thinks he's funny.

Shane likes Sam, I can tell. When I asked late if Sam wanted to go home, (the driver to the non-driver) Shane said, before Sam could answer, “You should stay, it’s too late to go now. Stay. Stay.” Or should that be, Shane slurred?

I don’t usually like sleeping with anyone... actually, that’s not exactly true. I don’t like sleeping with just anyone, but with Sam, it’s kind of nice. We fell asleep our heads touching on the same pillow. That must be saying something, huh?

He kissed me bleary-eyed this morning. "See ya, gotta get to work."

I rolled over and looked at the clock one-eyed, it was 8am. My day off.

It felt good, you know. Nice.

"See ya handsome."

He smiled his sweet smile. I pulled the doona up to my neck and could feel sleep coming for me again. Sam waved from the door.

Sexting – Why Do We Lie To Our Kids?

Teenagers have been charged over "sexting" offences where explicit photos of students are sent around.
Police say charges are laid in only the most extreme cases while the majority were referred to the appropriate govt department.

The police minister said kids did not understand the seriousness of sexting.
"Children don't see it as a crime and fail to grasp the consequences of their actions," said the police minister. "They may think they are only sending an image to their boyfriend or girlfriend, but they could be sending that image to the world, ."
He said parents need to be more aware of how their children use mobile phones and other technology.

But the truth is that they are most likely not sending their image to the world, that they most likely are only sending the image to their boyfriend or girlfriend and there probably will be no long term effects, psychological, or otherwise.
Do we tell our children these lies because it is the cheapest method of dealing with adults hang up about sex? What does a bit of nudity really matter anyway? It is scandalous that teenagers would be charged with child pornography offences for this.
When did we become so, so ridiculous about sex? This is not a serious issue. Do the police and govt departments not have better things to do with their time. Here's a tip guys, go look for some real criminals. Here's another tip, stop making cheap political miles out of non-issues.