From: J Sent: 14 October 2002 12:42 AM To: S Subject: Bali Bombings
Two friends of mine are in Bali. They’re OK, they didn’t go out that night, but they’d been to that bar before. Spooky eh? Looks like 75% of the casualties are Australian. Australia’s suburban football teams will have been almost totally wiped out. Shouldn’t joke really, I saw some footage of people in hospital and it didn’t look too good. Sun-burnt fatties in grotty looking wards in apparently quite a bit of pain. Poor buggers.
Jade was in a car accident last night as well. She was rear-ended by someone and pushed right across the intersection, across two lanes of traffic. Her car is totally crushed right up to the driver’s seat. If anyone had been in the back they’d be dead. Luckily she was driving back from visiting her parents and was on her own. She’s alright, but the guy who hit her ran off and when the cops showed up at his house he said he hadn’t been drinking, then blew .14 blood alcohol. Jade spent all night in hospital getting x-rays and so on, but she’s alright, nothing broken. Everyone’s alright, cos nothing bad ever happens to J, and by extension, all my chums.
Had a boring weekend. Was meant to be helping Erin and Nash move on Saturday but they never called. Then around 6.00pm Erin left a message saying that she’d been dialling the wrong number all day. So I spent the day loafing about waiting for the call, did some drawings, tidied up, watched a film. When Erin finally called I went over to see their new place. It needs some work (re-stumping, painting, carpet, general interior decorating) but it’s alright. Bloody expensive though. It’s weatherboard, in Northcote, needs work – $240K. Which I’m sure is cheaper than chips for UK but bloody hell, houses are really getting out of control for here. Oh well, not my problem, I’m ADDICTED to renting! I love it – the mouldy bathrooms, the rat infestations, the peeling paint, the concrete backyards and the snooty real estate agents. Ah! I LUV it!
After looking at Erin & Nash’s new house we went to a pub out in North Fitzroy. It’s over-30’s land out there, sis. I felt like I was inspecting a pre-retirement village. Their friends were playing a gig there. They weren’t bad, country-folksy stuff with balalaikas and mandolins, harmonicas and all that, very over-30’s North Fitzroy. I think I had a dodgy pint though cos yesterday I felt like shit. God DAMN I felt bad. And I didn’t have that much to drink, maybe 9 pots over 4 or 5 hours. Actually, maybe that is quite a bit on an empty stomach. Well, anyway, I spent all of yesterday feeling like death, rolling around on the couch, sipping water and nibbling chips, watching the Bali bomb news on the telly and making solemn vows to never drink again.
Still limping on to pay day on Thursday with my paid up credit card and cashless wallet. Nearly there, only have to make it four more days. Four more days of toasted cheese sandwiches and plunger coffee. Four more days of staying in and cooking dinner, not buying clothes and walking to work. Four more days til I can start stalking Steve again, inviting him out for a drink or something. Bah! A pox on poverty!
Well, I’m rambling so I’ll let you get back to your life. Remember, there is no God but God. (Do you think I should become a gay Muslim? How happy do you think our poor bigoted Mother would be?)