It was the first outing for my new hair-do. I was absurdly hopeful.

Thursday, 5 September, 1996 Hey Sis, Another day dribbles by.  Actually, it hasn’t dribbled, it’s been a crawl over broken glass and razor blades.  I’ve had a shocking day.  So irritable.  Dunno what’s wrong with me.  I think I need a holiday to tell the truth.  I haven’t had once since you were here in December. So what have I been doing?  Umm… I bleached … Continue reading It was the first outing for my new hair-do. I was absurdly hopeful.

So we eat Ox Tail and Ox Tongue – but what do we do with the rest of the Ox?

Tuesday, 24 June 1996  2:50am Gee it felt good not to drink Sis.  So righteous, so in control.  I liked it so much, that I did it again on Friday night.  Actually, everyone took it rather quietly, except Erin’s boyfriend, Billy.  He got pissed.  I think that getting pissed myself all the time has blinded me to the jibes that people make.  Sometimes I wonder … Continue reading So we eat Ox Tail and Ox Tongue – but what do we do with the rest of the Ox?

We call him Nuff Nuff because whenever he’s near you, all you want to shout is ‘Enough! Enough!’

Friday, 24 May 1996  8:24am Dear S, I thought I’d open this one traditionally, with a ‘Dear…’ Haven’t done anything since yesterday.  The traffic of books through my Flemington abode is about all I’m up to these days.  Finished the Truman Capote (I really like the name Truman) last night.  Finished an Agatha Christie (The Pale Horse).  Started Alice Walker’s Possessing the Secret of Joy … Continue reading We call him Nuff Nuff because whenever he’s near you, all you want to shout is ‘Enough! Enough!’

The peculiarities of our troublesome Father.

Tuesday, 14 May 1996  8:30am Went to the “Empress of India” in Carlton.  I was meeting Scottish Lisa from work and a few other people, all of whom I’d met before (bar one).  There were seven of us, we sat around just drinking and gossiping.  I must be getting old S, I spent a Saturday night ‘just chatting with friends’ (sounds like a coffee commercial) … Continue reading The peculiarities of our troublesome Father.

Sitting in Death’s Waiting Room.

  Friday, 26 April 1996 Howdy Sis o’ Mine, Still sittin’ here in Melbourne, Autumn chill closin’ in around me. Trying hard to ignore the blustery football analysis that trumpets around, usually on Monday, but today on a Friday.  It was ANZAC day yesterday, and there were a few games played.  I actually walked through the park near the MCG yesterday as the people swarmed … Continue reading Sitting in Death’s Waiting Room.

Girls either tart right up or slob right down after a break up. I suppose men do the same but lack the dramatic apparatus of make-up and mini-skirts.

Thursday, 11 April 1996  8:30pm Hey Sis, Sitting here, on a rainless night, thinking about nothing, as in not thinking nothing but thinking about nothing. I do this sometimes at work, or when I’m bored. Think of it. Nothing. No matter, so no space. No time.  Hmmm. There’s no time. I guess time doesn’t exist in a vacuum.  Time is only measurable in its effect … Continue reading Girls either tart right up or slob right down after a break up. I suppose men do the same but lack the dramatic apparatus of make-up and mini-skirts.

How long is 90 seconds? I’ll tell you.

  An Aside from S In this letter J says that he is typing his 1996 diary and that it is filed in a folder – I have never seen/found this folder which is why there are no diary excerts for 1996. He also writes about protecting and destroying his diary…   Sunday, 17 March 1996 Hey Sis, here’s an overdue letter, eh?  Sorry to … Continue reading How long is 90 seconds? I’ll tell you.

These fellas were wading through the vomit-lake and heaving with jocularity like Vikings. I quickly fled the scene.

Monday, 5 February 1996  11:08 am So Friday I go over to “Klicks” for drinks.  I’ve worked out my budget, and I know I really ought to go after two or three beers, because I’ve got this pub crawl thing with Quinn on Saturday night.  Quinn used to work here, now he’s in advertising with a four day week and an enormous bloody salary.  Anyway, … Continue reading These fellas were wading through the vomit-lake and heaving with jocularity like Vikings. I quickly fled the scene.

They call her “Cats Bum”.

Tuesday, 31 January 1996  10:38am Hey S, just heard some news that falls somewhat short of what might be described as serendipitous.  Do you remember that fuss I worked myself up into over that girl from the Croissant Connection Cafe girl? The name they gave her here at work (everyone here gets a nickname – except me – call me Mr Teflon, nothing sticks) was … Continue reading They call her “Cats Bum”.

I’m like some over-cashed magpie looking to add another glossy treasure to my nest when I get in a shop.

Sunday, 5 November 1995  12:58PM S, Yesterday was torture.  Sooo hungover, I was ill all day.  I didn’t get enough sleep, and my stomach just never recovered from all the poison it had to contain on Friday night.  I’d had such a crap week, it was either go straight home or go on a bender.  I went to “Klicks” with the pious intention of walking … Continue reading I’m like some over-cashed magpie looking to add another glossy treasure to my nest when I get in a shop.