yesterday, being shockingly wintery (and normally it would not have being shocking, since it is after all, winter, and in retrospect i suppose last week’s sunny clear blue days were the unseasonal ones), was a perfect day to buy a bag of hot chips and stroll towards the water, feeling the cold wind raise welts on my cheeks. it was doubly good because in a surprising turn of events, the boy who was overseas decided he’d had enough and jumped on a plane and returned, and strolled and ate chicken salted chips with me.
Category Archives: boy
sometimes when you see a boy off at the airport, a boy who leaves you his magnificent frostfree fridge to look after while he heads off on an indefinitely long trip overseas, not knowing when exactly he will return, and even though you may well be catching two planes to meet up with him in vietnam or china in six or ten weeks, you have to take two buses home, and scrub down your old cyclic defrost fridge which sits alone down in the garage, so that maybe you can sell it off to someone who doesn’t know its history of being a happy home to many evil little cockroaches.
also, you have to put on a ratcat cd. don’t go now.
See, even when yer boyfriend, who you quite like, suddenly picks up and goes on a 6 month epic Indiana Jones journey to exciting bomb-riddled sub-emailable countries like India and Pakistan and Iran and beyond, there’s half a packet of fun, bite-sized reasons why you should be pleased:
1. Nellie’s coming!! Finally.
2. The new Eels album. It’s so pretty and lo-fi.
3. Pale green peppermint ice-cream studded through with mini m&ms. Sure, it’s got that non-creamy, skim milk texture… but it shore is funny though.
4. Orange fur-covered bookshelf. It’s orange. It’s furry. You don’t even need books.
5. That scab on your knee from when you fell over unassisted in the street has grown crusty and ripe for the picking. Meanwhile the tiny cut you got while hoicking yourself out of the swimming pool, has become mildly infected – not helped at all by the fact that your big metal watch keeps chafing. You’d think it would have taken a far shorter time to arrive at the idea to switch wrists. But, no. Really.
And so on. And so forth.
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before i had a “blog”, i used to write a sporadically updated letter on the front page of my website. this is one of them. i am consolidating it into these archives, because i can.
I found a can of soup (cream of chicken and mushroom, no less) in the kitchen cupboard the other day. It wasn’t even originally mine and the person whom it used to belong to’s been gone for over a year. So it’s pretty old soup (and cream of chicken and mushroom, no less), but I was feeling in a particularly self destructive mood.
Even so I wanted to make it a worthwhile dining experience, so I walked over to Coles and got half-baguette (and the Sterrah can tell you a funny story about half-baguettes) and started to queue at the deli counter for some grilled and marinated artichokes.
And so I’m next in line and all of a sudden a wave of old people show up, and have they qualms about jumping queues? Not one. Of course the counter people are no help either; either they just go up to the nearest old person, or they say “Who’s next?” and some other old person puts their withered and spotty hand up.
At this stage I had to leave because I was really quite livid. Not just because of the old people at the deli counter, but because once again the only tomatoes available were hard, unripe, orange and dented.
Why didn’t I abuse the rude and inconsiderate old people? Do they deserve respect just because they are old? Perhaps they think so, and this is why the ignore me when I’m obviously waiting in line for artichokes. Sometimes I think that maybe they should be allowed to jump queues, not because they seniority deserves it, but because their lives will soon be over and they shouldn’t have to spend what’s left of it standing in line so that they can hurry home and torment their grandchildren.
Sigh. Sometimes old people suck.
And then when I got home and called Matthew, he said that soup in a can probably has a use-by date, and 2 years was probably pushing it a little. Just the baguette after all.
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before i had a “blog”, i used to write a sporadically updated letter on the front page of my website. this is one of them. i am consolidating it into these archives, because i can.
