I just want people to know I’m not what I look like.

J’s Diary Entry

Sunday, 25 June 1995

It’s funny how little things can have such an effect on you.  I woke up early this morning, feeling over-vodka’d, and staggered down to the kitchen to gulp down freezing water to replenish my brain.  I went shopping at the Little Food Mart just down the road, and I have vowed to never shop there again for fresh food – yuck!  A worm on some cauliflower, a zucchini that nearly fell apart in my hands….  So I got back home, Aidan and Leah lumbered out of bed, showered.  I decided to catch a tram into work instead of cadging a ride from Leah like I usually do.  I was on the tram, in an OK mood for someone who’s slightly hungover, and then I see this guy.  He had those really long, smoothly arching eyebrows that seem to mark people out for a cheery disposition.  He had on little round sunglasses (it was overcast) and a dark blue scarf with a black overcoat.  His hair was medium brown and in a bob down to his jawline.  His eyes were large and brown.  He would have been about twenty.  Just seeing him depressed me.  Seeing someone like that invokes in me a mixture of envy and desire that mixes into depression, aided and abetted by that peculiar melancholy that comes with a hangover in Winter.

I walked up Collins Street in a dull rage, my glasses in my pocket, not wanting to look at anybody, or anybody to look at me.  If someone had smiled at me I’m sure I would have hissed at them like a cranky cat.  I got to Collins Place and weaved through the crowd of craft folk that assemble there on Sundays, and stopped in at the health food store for my coffee.  The girl serving took one look at me and trumpeted “Look at you, you’re hungover!”  This took me completely by surprise and made me laugh unexpectedly and ask “What, is it that obvious?”  Instantly I was in a better mood.  She said something about me looking like her after she’s been to see a “grunge band”, which was a daggy thing to say, but I can empathize with the impetus for saying that sort of thing -you want to let someone know that you’re not what you look like.

 

j hairPicture of J (I’ve added a filter)

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