One of my very favourite movies, Dangerous Liaisons. I love it.

"It is beyond my control"

Psychosomatic Illness

I've developed a psychosomatic illness, if you would even call it that, when Sam says diner is ready, I have to go and take a piss. Every night. It is a recent thing. Is that even a thing? Sam just shakes his head.

"Do you always..." you can hear the rest.

It is probably some long lost childhood trauma finally bubbling to the surface. I just knew, I should have a few more of those. It is not healthy to be so normal, I am sure. It is kind of weird, though, like clock work, or is that like piss-take? And now that it is in my head...  every night. In the words of my favourite movie, It is beyond my control.

I should google it, I guess. Of course, that is never really recommended. Google will probably tell me it is cancer, or ulcerated something, or some mental disease, of some sort. Denys-Drash Syndrome, that's what I got when I googled it. Truthfully, I think it was the word syndrome. That is some hideous condition.

Oh, who are we kidding, Google will tell us what the businesses have paid Google to tell us, well, at least for the first page, or two, of the search. Whoever has paid Google the most, that is what we'll be told.

Remember when the internet used to tell you interesting, useful information? Not what business has paid them to tell us. Remember that?

Guilt, it is Such a Waste of Energy

You know, sometimes I feel like such a shonk.

Sam does all of the buying of the food, and pays for the meals when we eat out, and he does all the cooking. I do the cleaning of the kitchen after the cooking, and I pay the rest of the bills. I also do the clothes washing and any home maintenance that may need doing. We both share the cleaning of the house, I vacuum and he dusts, on a Sunday. I don't know if that is fair, but both of us seem happy enough with the arrangement.

So, Sam goes to work full time and he does all the cooking when he gets home. Thankfully. I am so glad I don't have to cook. Shake of the head. He comes home for lunch every day, we usually eat leftovers from the night before, or we go out to eat. I stay home and I don't work. I say that I am on long service leave, I'm just lucky that way. Someone said the other day, the boyfriend of a friend, "You are so lucky that you work from home."

Sure, let’s go with that, I thought.

Truthfully, I have been pissing around since we got back from Europe.

So, the shonk bit is... I race around, literally for 10 minutes and clean up the kitchen before Sam gets home for lunch at midday and again at 4.30pm before Sam gets home from work. Literally, it takes me 10 minutes, sometimes 5 minutes. Twice a day. Twenty minutes tops, and the house is clean. That is my day done. The rest of the time, I do what I like.

That's what I have to do on a daily basis. Some days I just feel like a con artist, when it is 4.40pm and I am finishing my 5 minutes of work, wiping the last saucepan and sliding it into the cupboard, as Sam closes the front door having just got home.

"Tea?" I ask, smiling sweetly.

Today, just now, after collecting historical photos of Melbourne all day on the internet, I thought, Jesus! I better get the kitchen done, Sam will be here soon, only to realise, after I was done, that I had raced around an hour early. Stupid me, I'm even losing track of the day.

There is apart of me who thinks, You really should cook. Poor Sam works all day and then has to come home and cook. Then the other part of me says, shrieks, ARE YOU FUCKING MAD? Cook? Everyday? Like a life sentence? No thank you.

Because I can cook. Actually, I'm a really good cook. As Shane found out once. After being housemates forever, with Shane cooking often, (He started training to be a chef, when he first left school, until he discovered what the hours were like, or something. Truthfully, Shane is pretty ambitious) if anyone was going to cook, I casually whipped up a dinner party for a friend I hadn't seen for some time. And then I met some guy I fancied and I cooked for him. Shane stood in the kitchen doorway with his mouth open, saying the words,

"You can cook? You've never cooked for me."

I can, it just bores me. Every night, day in, day out, going to the supermarket, thinking of something to cook, every night, for the rest of your life, no, ah, ah, shake of the head, no thank you. Occasionally, in a spasm of sisterly generosity, I have whipped up a lasagne, or a spaghetti Bolognese you know, something simply, for Sam, but every day, for the rest of our lives, people do less time for murder.

In the kitchen for 20 minutes a day, that's enough for me.

I should just stop feeling guilty about it.

Tuesday Jazz

I've been listening to John Coltrane, me and Bud, cuddled up in a woollen blanket. It is cold outside. I feel cold. Buddy is warm. He snores and he really stinks when he farts, but he is like a hot water bottle.

I read the news (today, oh boy) nothing much. I try not to read too much, just the highlights, something interesting. I avoid anything on the anticipation of a war between two mad men, so that I don't live through it before it has happened.

Sam comes home for lunch. We had Puttanesca Pasta for lunch, Sam and I. It was the best Puttanesca, I reckon, Sam has made.

I cleaned the house. Well, the kitchen. And folded some washing. Towels and undies.

I bought butter and bread, sourdough, from the bakery, it is expensive, but worth it, it's got body and soul. It is covered in seeds, which scatter across my kitchen bench every time I cut the bread.

There are now two homeless people in front of Coles asking for money. Can you imagine being homeless, it gives me a shiver to think about it. I don't give them money, though. I give money to The Smith Family. 

Sam and I walked into town on Saturday to eat Laksa, in Little Lonsdale Street. I saw a homeless woman who I used to see when I used to walk into town to the awful law firm, that was getting onto ten years ago. She's been homeless for at least 10 years. Can you imagine? How has she filled her days for 10 years?

I must give the Smith Family another donation.

I wonder how the Liberal Governments war on poverty turned into an assault on the poor?

 

The day sparkled in the afternoon, as sparkling afternoons do. It’s rich, and gentle, and peaceful, and exhilarating, and calming, and spectacular, and serene and perfect all at the same time. 

Monday

I entered a short story competition, entries close the end of August, so I had to get it done. Results published in November. What am I going to spend the prize money on, I wonder? Ha ha. I really need to win a story competition soon, to justify calling myself a writer, not that I ever tell anyone I'm a writer, but if I won a writing competition I could.

I sent my tax to the accountant, something I've been meaning to do for weeks, well, since, June 30th, I guess. I do it all electronically, I haven't seen my account for ten years, maybe longer.

Then I watched YouTube all day, some car resto shows, I caught up on the latest episodes. I should subscribe, really, but I get lots of emails already that I never read. And then I watched old eps of What's My Line. I only really watch the mystery celebrity guest.

Oh yes, I tried to go for a walk before lunch, but my damn knee is still too sore. Did I mention that I have a sore knee? It's been sore for about a month. I guess, I better go see the doctor. Sam doesn't want me too get medical advice. 

"Waste of time," he says. "What are they going to do, take an xray?"

"Well, yes, I guess," I said. "That is exactly what they'd do."

"It'll get better," he said. "Stop being a pussy."

It doesn't feel like it is getting better. My morning walk is on hold.

Fitzroy Street Art

Vote Yes for Same Sex Marriage

Vote Yes for Same Sex Marriage

Don't you all want to stop talking about same sex marriage? Don't you want everybody to stop talking about same sex marriage? Aren’t you sick of hearing about it, I know I am. Don't you all want to get on to the next thing that needs to be dealt with in society? 

There are now almost 1 billion people who live in countries that have legalised gay marriage and nothing has changed in those countries, other than gay people getting married.

So, gay people have been loud and pushy, you think? Some people think. So say the "No" campaign, to get some people onto the "No" side? Well, maybe? Maybe not? It is time to stop dwelling on the messenger, though, and think about the message. If gay people have been pushy, that is because nobody would listen if we weren’t loud and pushy. Sorry, if that has come across as rude, but we have been persecuted for 100’s of years for simply being who we were born to be. And if we never got loud and angry, on occasion, we’d still be illegal, we’d still be going to jail. It is that simple. This is not about who said what? This is about everybody being treated the same in society.

Is Australia the last Western Country to legalise same sex marriage? It is certainly one of the last.

Gay people aren’t going to be satisfied with a plebiscite that was designed to uphold Tony Abbot’s Catholic beliefs. You all know that a plebiscite that costs 122 million that isn’t binding is nonsense. An extensive survey that would have cost 2 million dollars would have done the same thing. (And we could have spent 120 million on the poor) Personally, I think we should boycott the plebiscite, as engaging in it only gives it legitimacy; something specifically designed to favour the older generations who are, apparently, more likely to vote no, and to disenfranchise the young who are more likely to vote yes. But, everybody tells me a boycott is not the way to go.

Gay people aren’t going to stop fighting for a fair and equitable treatment in the world if the plebiscite returns a no answer. The fight will continue because gay people are, literally, fighting for their lives, and no subterfuge by conservative politicians will stop that. So, it won’t stop with a no vote in a pointless plebiscite, the conversation will continue, it will continue to ring in all of our ears.

And here is the ridiculousness of the whole thing, from all accounts, what is generally believed to be true in our society is that the majority of the population thinks gay marriage should be legalised, and the majority of politicians would vote yes in parliament if given the chance, and yet we are wasting 120 million to pacify a couple of dinosaurs’ in the Liberal Party.

So, here’s your chance, to get everyone to finally stop taking about this subject, here is your chance to give everyone peace on same sex marriage, Vote Yes and everybody can just stop taking about it.

Funny the Things You Think

When I was a kid, I used to hate the brown bits on bananas, which was unusual for me because as a kid I wasn't a fussy eater. The brown bruised parts of bananas I just couldn't abide, and my mum used to take those sections and eat them herself.

Now a days I just chop up the banana, bruised bits and all, and scatter the pieces over my muesli, without a care in the world. Funny the things you think about as you wait for your first coffee to kick in, before you have put anything in your stomach.

Onya mum, I thought. I smiled to myself.

Here's to all the mums who eat their little boy's bruised banana segments, so they don't have to eat them until they have grown into men.

I Quit Smoking

I did quit smoking though, 3 days in, with the onset of this cold. I would have quit anyway, but the cold did hurry it up. Of course, I am famous for quitting smoking, I do it all the time. It is good to be off them, even if I don't really feel it yet. 

I smoked for a couple of weeks. A bag of pot for a week, then cigarettes for a week, and then I stop. Then it will be a few months before I smoke again, before I want a bag of pot, much to Sam's chagrin. Toothy smile.

I don't even like it, the cigarettes that is, they make me feel second rate, shitty, to tell you the truth. I always feel better when I stop. Funny the things we do.

I wondered if my time scale is correct, so I am going back through my journal just to check. So, 25/7 to 21/08. Sam is right, he said it had been a month. 

We got back from overseas June 10th and I stopped smoking the following week, lets say 13/6, so I didn't smoke 13/6 to 24/7.

We went overseas 6/5 and I'd smoked for about a week before that. So let's say I smoked 01/5 to 10/06.

Sam is right, my smoking is creeping up, when I thought I'd done so well. So, I really need to not smoke for the rest of the year, at the very least.

Do I dare look at the beginning of the year, Jan to May? Hmmm? I'm sure I didn't smoke for those months. Of course, Sam disagrees.

Anyway, despite the cold, my breathing feels easier, my head feels clearer, my weight/gravity feels lighter, my stomach feels less nauseous. There is a sort of a lightness to be felt, that smoking takes away. An airiness. A physical ease with the world. I don't know how better to describe it. (He writes as he descends into another coughing fit) Big smile. I'm sure I will feel better soon.

Midday. I've just had lunch. I might go back to bed.

In Bed with a Cold

Buddy, and I, are in bed with a cold. Well, I have the cold, not Bud, he's stretched out and snoring next to me. I feel like crap. I don't think I have had a cold for ages. It feels like ages? I don't know how long it has been, but I don't feel good. I'm watching car resto shows on YouTube and I'm coughing a lot. I might go and get a coffee, I don't think I can drink anymore honey and lemon drinks.

I wanted a chocolate biscuit to cheer myself up. A chocolate coated Scotch Finger, is there any other type of chocolate biscuit, I ask you? I knew we had some, as I bought them. They were half price in Coles, so I bought two packets. Sam couldn't see the logic. Apparently, if they are half price, you buy one packet and get them for half the cost. I certainly didn't see it that way, half price, you buy two packets and get twice as many biscuits for the same price. It is a no brainer. 

I couldn't find them in the kitchen, Sam was clearly hiding them from me. I sniffed around in my weakened state, cursing Sam's skulduggery. Poor me, I thought, more than once, as my body ached, and my bare toes curled on the cold floor tiles. But I found them, yes I did, and the unusual place in which I found them confirmed that Sam was, in deed, hiding them. Rude.

The breakfast of champions... um... er... the breakfast of someone who feels like they are getting a cold. Sad the bread supply was in such a poor state. What is it they say, feed a cold. I'm staying inside by the open fire all day

The daffodils were beautiful in the park, as we took Buddy for his walk.

Wander to the park

yellow faces turn to the sun

saffron winter bonnets

The sun warms

like honey,

the flowers

are almost

as golden

Hear No Evil, See No evil

I think when you globalise terror for political and corporate gain, we all suffer. Whenever I see there has been an, alleged, terrorist attack in the world, I know it is my queue to stop reading and listening to the news for a few days, so the hysteria can blow over. Life is much nice without the World Wide Psycho Drama encroaching on it. Sixteen people dying at the hands of some mentally deranged person running them down with a car is terrible for those people, but it is not terrible for my life. If it weren't for the news media chasing corporate profits delivering the tragedy directly into my lounge room, it wouldn't affect me in anyway. If I don't watch the news, it doesn't get to me. 

We watched Game of Thrones season 2 all night, which was way more preferable.

I love it when the Magnolias come out in Gertrude Street. It is just a pity the Yarra Council doesn't look after them just a little better.

Old Pink Floyd

I'm listening to old Pink Floyd. I've never really listened to the stuff before Dark Side Of The Moon, but now I have Apple Streaming, I can listen to anything I like. Lovely, isn't it?

What's the Problem?

Sam bought a new water filter. Sure, I dropped the top of the old one and it broke, but only the small flap thing that covered the water spout broke off. It wasn't really necessary, it wasn't integral to the working of the jug. However, Sam bought a new one and he can't quite understand why I don't like it.

The old jug was clear with a white plastic top. The new jug is kind of pink plastic with a white plastic top with pink spots the same colour as the main body. 

It was the only one they had when he went to buy a replacement, he said.

"Where did you go, Crap Jugs Are Us?" I asked.

Sam can't quite understand what I am objecting to?

Cigarettes

If I buy my cigarettes at 7/11 they cost $30. If I buy my cigarettes at the milk bar they cost $27. If I buy my cigarettes at Coles they cost $23.25. Woollies are marginally cheaper than Coles. If I buy my cigarettes at the tobacconist/cigarette shop they cost $20.90.

Same cigarettes, different shops.

I'm quitting Monday, so it doesn't matter that much to me. A part from anything else, it is just too expensive to smoke. Who can afford it?

Favourite Juice

Favourite juice - Coles brand orange and mango