The Morning after the Night Before

I am currently greeting my Sunday in a less than enthusiastic state my carefully styled rock hair (*picture lots of bobby pins and bits of spiky bits of hair at different angles*) and smoky eyes from the night before have morphed into a dishevelled panda look. I’m feeling shall we say a little rough around the edges. Last night however was a good night.

Last night I was at the Powerhouse, this place is a big old converted, power station… all exposed brickwork and steel and inner-city funkiness and other adjectives that currently escape me. I was there seeing a local Brisbane band, Women in Docs. They are basically two girls and their guitars rocking out. I first saw these guys play back about eight years ago when they first arrived in Brisbane from Townsville. I was taken to the Zoo one night for their EP launch by a friend who knew them. It was a stinking hot night and there was about twenty of us in the whole place. I bought their EP and it’s still one of my favourite CD’s ever (this website has a few of their songs: http://cdbaby.com/cd/wid3).

During a period of about nine months between a bruised heart/ego and a couple years spent overseas I was living in West End and they had a regular gigs at the local pool hall/pub. Many Sundays were spent hanging out listening to their take on the world. I’ll leave you with some of the lyrics from the travelling song which I always envisaged was a response to the standard question “How was your overseas trip?” which people often ask but aren’t really all that interested in the answer….apologies for butchered lyrics…

“I’ve seen the pyramids; I’ve travelled the Nile,
I have run with bulls; had thorns in my side.
I have drunk with an Irish lord, I’ve wandered through ghost towns with rival wars that never close downs.
I’ve been stripped to the soul ….I have tasted the glorious and all I have to say is I had a good year last year the world took my head and I disappeared and I don’t know where to go anymore round here…..”

“I needed that ham, really needed it. I pay the rent what do you do. I hate you more than life itself”…Sharehousing

The heading of this blog entry is taken a new book called “I lick my cheese” and other notes from the frontline of flat-sharing. Apparently it’s a collection of notes that flatmates have left each other over the years… the one on the website says “I needed that ham, really needed it. I pay the rent what do you do. I hate you more than life itself”… perhaps I have somewhat dry sense of humour but it made me laugh out loud and I am now resolved to track this book down. It was mentioned by one of my favourite columnists you can read her article here: http://www.news.com.au/couriermail/story/0,23739,23097109-5012506,00.html).

Over the years I have shared my space with many people but there is really only one flatmate that stands out in my memory. The strange world that is facebook has recently reconnected me with an old friend who shared this same flatmate experience. We had lived together a few years ago.... the connection that ended in our living together was a third girl we were at university with. We were both much better friends with her than each other, until we lived together that it is. It was that first few months living together that we bonded over the sheer terror of our new living arrangement.

Now, terror may sound like an over-exaggeration… but I’m not talking about a housemate that eats your food, doesn’t pay their bills, is unemployed and decides to set up their life underneath their donna in the living room or has random sex with different guys so that you’re regularly making small talk with men with chains hanging off their belt while eating your breakfast…No, these are all situations that I’ve encountered and coped with. We were literally living in a state of fear.

In hindsight the signs of a serious “personality disturbance” had been there: the harsh judgements of other people based on pretty minor things, the disturbingly graphic descriptions of the things she would like to do to people that pissed her off, the rigidness bordering on self-punishment that included running for an hour every morning whether she had a fever, or it was pouring with rain. I don’t want to make light of the fact that she was a girl in a whole lot of pain but sometimes people who are a bit rough around the edges have an energy and impulsiveness that can be exciting and fun. I guess that is what had attracted both of us to being friends with her in the first place…

However, it was at the two month mark that we decided that: spending a good ten minutes making sure everything was exactly as we had left it, ensuring there was not a spot of water on any of the benches and being on edge when she would walk through the door inspecting the house wondering when the next explosion was going to happen was not a normal way to live. I think the defining moments were when she threatened to put my head through a wall for using hairspray in the bathroom (well she had asked me not to) and Cathy almost being reduced to tears at the thought of what was going to happen to her when she accidentally broke this girl’s mirror. It’s been years now but I saw her at uni about six months and the way she looked at me I could tell the hatred was still there. I don’t know what it would be like to carry that level of anger around with you every day. Exhausting and terrifying I imagine.

Goon of Fortune

I’ve spent the past few weeks trying to gently coax my body out of holiday mode. Back into a rhythm that doesn’t involve late nights and midday naps. Starting out a new year where if the past few years are anything to go by there will probably be lots of new faces in my life. There is a seductive excitement, a shinyness (I’m know this is not an official word it’s my word) that comes with meeting new people, making new friends, new relationships…. When you have no history it’s like a blank slate this person doesn’t know any of the back stories and you can choose to give it way in little pieces or big chunks. Then of course there are the few people who not only know the entire back catalogue but are more than happy to jog your memory lest you choose to forget the less classy moments in your life….

So what am I going on about? I was at a wine club yesterday afternoon organised by my place of work. It was basically a group of about ten people discussing among other things wine. I learnt that the majority of people would not be impressed if a bottle that cost less than fifteen dollars was brought along. There was also some general sneering at people who drink cask wine. The major highlight was one girl recounting her “goon of fortune” experiences. It was around the time that office politics started being discussed that I made my exit….

I was recounting this experience to a friend; the lovely wine glasses, the no-bottles less than fifteen dollars accepted rule, the somewhat stilted conversation, when I mentioned “goon of fortune” she was quick to refresh my memory of teenage parties involving hill hoists, four litre bladders of wine attached to the hill hoists and herself hanging upside down from this contraption sculling something that cost much less than $15 a bottle… so the next time I’m listening to someone discuss the merits of different types of wine I’m going to call on that memory and smile.

Tom Cruise: Crazy Town or Misunderstood?

Have you ever pondered one of life's truly meaningful questions.... is Tom Cruise a total nutbag or just misunderstood.... watch this video and decide for yourself. I heard on the radio last night on my way home that the scientologists have won some court battle forcing google to take this video down but it is still up there for the moment. If you can figure out what the hell he is talking about let me know.... and make sure you read the comments they are the comedy highlight

http://gawker.com/5002269/the-cruise-indoctrination-video-scientology-tried-to-suppress

I don't have any New Years Resolutions

In the past few weeks I’ve been in the midst of numerous conversations where the “What’s your New Years Resolution?” question has been the topic of discussion. I’ve listened to people talk about the things they would like to change about themselves and their lives. This is an activity that I myself have been a part of for a good ten years thinking of the annual checklist of things to rectify in the coming year.

Which brings me to a question? Do teenagers have new years resolutions? I don’t remember having these conversations in high school? I’m pretty sure you officially hit resolution territory when you get to your twenties …. But anyway I’m getting off track (which I tend to do quite frequently)….

About half way through this year I had an epiphany brought about by reading two blogs one written by a good friend and another by a complete stranger and was crystallized in a wonderfully drunken evening that followed with many other friends. These are of course when most epiphanies seem to occur. I am still waiting for a sober epiphany.

Here are the link to those blogs:
http://sherdieinbrisvegas.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html
and
http://pantsofdeath.blogspot.com/2007/04/there-i-was-walking-to-shop-to-get.html

My friend’s blog talked about the “before” photo a girl at work had shown her. It had been taken by her gym with a view to the “after” photo being the taut, toned and terrific version of her. She told me about the flash of self-loathing she thought she saw in that girl’s eyes when showing the picture of the person she wanted to leave behind.

Her blog talked about the future self. The fabulous future self. The self that lives inside our head that has a photographic image of the shinier, non-procrastinating, socially graceful person we will one day be. Frankly, I can’t think I’ve anybody I’ve loved or liked who is anything like that future self. I love spending time with warm, funny people with tendencies towards swearing, drinking, and a love of carbohydrates. In fact if I met someone like that future self they’d probably bug, intimidate and bore the hell out of me. I like people a little rough around the edges. We all agreed in that drunken evening out that our present selves were pretty fucking awesome*.

Anyway, back to my epiphany I resolved to not go through the process of making mental checklists of the things in my life that I’m not happy with. To focus on what is good in my life and what I value in myself and other people. Oh crap, I think I just made a resolution!

* By the end of the evening our awesomeness had reached epic proportions that hopefully our future selves will be able to live up to.

It was worth the pain!

I’ve been swimming lately. This is new for me. I had pretty much left swimming behind when I left school many other forms of exercise have come and gone but swimming was a hazy, distant memory. I’d been going to the local city council pool. A friendly place with only two roped off lanes and lots of people generally floating and splashing about. The man who takes my money is friendly, seems like someone who has probably worked there for a long time as I watch him chat to lots of people. It is a nice place to dip my toes back into the swimming pool so to speak.

Today though I decided to go to a swimming pool a little closer to home, a pool attached to one of the big private schools as I’d heard through the grapevine that it was heated. As I entered the venue I saw some vaguely familiar elite athletes leaving. As soon as I got in there and saw every lane roped off and squads racing up down the pool I knew I wasn’t in Kansas anymore….. I assessed the situation assuming that like the freeway there must be a slow lane allocated for the elderly and the people that haven’t swum for thirteen years. I headed for the lane next to a man who looked somewhere in his mid-eighties.

It was at about the half a kilometre mark that I saw two people get into my lane (that’s right my lane I was there first). This is cool I thought I can share my lane they can weave around me as I breaststroke slowly up down the lane and this is basically what happened…. Until that awkward moment when we were all sharing space on the little step at the end of the lane specifically designed for standing and catching your breath when the lady said to me “Are you going to be much longer?”

Well I’d actually done 700metres I was totally shagged, but it seemed like it would annoy this lady to have to continue to weave around me so I did another 200 metres just for her, the pain was worth it…… I think I’ll go back to the council pool next time…..

Through someone elses eyes

It’s always enlightening and sometimes a bit confronting to get a glimpse of yourself through other people’s eyes.

A little while back I was at a lunch with a large group people, an assortment of kind-of friends who you kind-of hang out with and they kind-of know you and amongst them are some gems where the friendship may go to the next level but mostly it’s just a mish-mash of people who you’re sharing space with for know.

I was having a conversation with one of the girls there who I’ve actually known for a couple of years, she’d been having a pretty tough time we’d talked at length about it she’d cried on my shoulder. Anyway, in the way of setting the scene to get to my point (and the point is coming) in this group of kind-of friends she was someone who I thought knew me better than most. Then half way through our conversation she says to me “but everything comes so easily for you”.

It was the kind of statement where the fork stops half way to the mouth. The tip of the tongue response was “wow well the last thirty years would have gone a whole lot smoother if someone had sent me that FUCKING MEMO”. Naturally, this is not what I said. I tend to restrain tendencies toward sarcasm. I think it’s a combination of my mother’s voice in my head telling me to stop being facetious and never quite being sure how people will take it. And the friendship certainly hadn’t reached a level where it would survive a sarcastic response taken the wrong way. I think I may have enquired what gave her that impression… she said it was the calm aura I radiated (she’s into that kind of lingo)….

But it made me think… is that the image I project, everything comes easily to me, because I sure as hell know I struggle with lots of things including returning DVD’s and library books on time, swimming more than eight strokes of freestyle without sinking to the bottom of the pool or having to switch back to breast stroke, opening up to people before I’ve well and truly sussed them out, balancing all of the major food groups in a healthy and appropriate manner, purposely waiting around corners to avoid making small talk in corridors and hallways … well you get the point. And I’m pretty okay with all of these things (except maybe the DVD’s those fines really add up) but it interested me that we walk around with our own reality of how our lives are and other people’s versions of that life are so different to our own. Huh!