I’m fostering a new bluntness, it seems to be working quite well.

J’s Diary Entry

27 January 2003

Joel is back in Melbourne! But sadly not for long. He’s only down for a week or two. He’s doing a Bachelor of Fine Arts at Sydney University and he’s just down here to tie up loose ends (sell his furniture and and so on) and visit people. I quite missed him, didn’t realise it until I saw him again, he’s funny and smart and always well-dressed. So Joel, McKenzie Jade, Eli and I met at ‘The Collection’ on Bridge Road at 7.15pm. I had a “mocktail” (groan!) and everyone else had gin and tonics. Joel looks well. You know, I kinda wish I’d jumped his bones when I had the chance, though he is only 24. Seems a bit Humbert Humbert. McKenzie was in top form. Made some wildly off-colour joke about breast cancer. She blamed it on being drunk. We all ate at ‘Thai Oriental’. I had a fucking delicious ginger prawn dish.  Seeing Joel again made me think about what I’m doing with myself: my career, my love-life, my home-life, everything. Jade and I decided over dinner, with encouragement from everyone to boot Ian out – possibly tomorrow. So that’s sorted, which is good, but now I’m here thinking about my love life. About how I’m always waiting. Waiting to lose weight, to save money, for Summer, for them to come to me. And I’m 30, and things (looks, body, shyness) will only get worse. Watched “About A Boy” today and could identify with the main character (except for how he’s rich and good looking and gets heaps of sex) and that’s sad, identifying with a character from a Nick Hornby novel, and from the film version no less. Quelle horreur! Ah, but this wallowing is self-indulgent, because I know I won’t do anything about it. Then again, maybe I will. I’ve become a little unpredictable lately – this new taste for kicking out housemates for example. And I’m fostering a new bluntness as well.  If you tell someone something, well, MEAN, make sure you do it straight away and with a smile. It seems to work quite well.

Read “The Life of Pi” yesterday, by Yann Martel. It was good. started “The Cutting Room” by Louise Welsh. Not so good.

 

4 February 2003

I’m feeling a bit lonely at the moment, a bit cut off. I’m completely dependant on Jade for everything, I have no friends of my own. This feeling of isolation is exacerbated at the moment I think, by a few things;

  1. Not drinking – I would often get drunk on my own when feeling a bit lonely.
  2. MidSumma – the big gay festival thing, is on at the moment. Gay Pride March was on Sunday and I spent the day wandering around Richmond, reading “Ingenious Pain” by Andrew Miller (quite good). I was on the run from Ian. I couldn’t bear going to Pride March on my own on foot. My bike was in the repair shop. At least if you’re on your own on a bike no-one notices you’re on your own. Mind you, it’s pretty sad sitting in a park on your own thinking about how sad it would be to be on your own at a Gay Pride March.
  3. It’s been six months since Samuel. And what is truly tragic is not that it’s been six months since my last shag, but that it took me six months to REALISE it’s been six months. I think I’m caring less and less about love and sex as I get older, I just don’t even NOTICE anymore. The only time I really thinking about it is when I write in this.

God it’s hot today. There’s a huge fly bumping bumping bumping against the window. It’s too hot even for flies to buzz, they simply bump. The Sun was that scary pink/peach colour again this morning. Half of Victoria still seems to be on fire. Oh yeah, the space shuttle blew up on re-entry yesterday. Or was it the day before? I think I’ll go kill that fly.

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