Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Dammit, where'd my hard-won equilibrium get to?
a) turning up in their new city with only 8 hours advance notice
b) expecting that they'll drop everything to entertain you, which they do because in theory you both want to be friends, and they want to prove that your initial impression of Adelaide wasn't fair
c) keeping them hanging on waiting for you to phone as if the last 8 months haven't taught them anything
d) inviting yourself over for Sunday morning brunch, even going so far as to request that you be served chai tea
e) politely asking when you should arrive by - your ex-girlfriend will say 11am at the latest - but she doesn't really mean it! No, it's fine to shamble along after 1pm. Just fine.
Yes, it was pretty awkward. I don't know where all the affection and good wishes went, or all the love that we had for three years ... even being able to hold a conversation without judging and irritating each other. Perhaps I was building it up too much, thinking that I'd finally get some closure - but I guess I just ended up thinking, wow - we really have so little in common. How come we didn't argue more? How could this guy's opinion have been so important to me for so long? And how come it took until 10 minutes before he left to actually express any of this irritation, rather than bottling it up?
I guess sometimes you can get on fine over the phone and email, but in person ... all the stress returns. Like I constantly say, and most of the time believe, I want us both to be happy, and clearly we can't make each other happy.
Pffff. Oh, I have new reviews published:
an interview with the creative genius behind Quiet Child
reviews of a cool jazz trio whose music I found challenging to describe - let's face it, I'm no Whitney Balliett; Kiwi dub/roots stars the Black Seeds; and Sugababes' Greatest Hits
and a review of something rich and strange, Highway Rock'N'Roll Disaster.
Plus, I do have good news: Nia, a friend from uni, has taken the big decision to come travelling, and may be doing a working holiday to either Australia or New Zealand! It was just lovely to hear her voice again. Sometimes it's your old mates who know you best and make you laugh the most ...
or perhaps a random hilarious mate from purgatorial times fruit picking in Queensland, who phones up after a year, bringing up times that were pretty funny in retrospect (Maverick had set out into town on payday with the idea of going food shopping and bringing us a loaf of bread. Several hours later, with no sign of him, we set off in the car and were greeting by a drunken lurching yelling Maverick, brandishing shopping bags, who tumbled under the stationary car and couldn't extricate himself. "Rosie! Beautiful Rosie! I have your bread!" he cried, handing out with exaggerated care a squashed and mud-splattered loaf. Several friends gathered round to haul at his limbs and finally removed him. He waved us off, clutching his head - a cheerful soul, and someone I'd definitely look up in Sydney!)
... or sometimes it's tea and sympathy with a housemate who gives the best advice. I started writing this feeling pretty grumpy, but actually I have a lot to be grateful for.
Fingers crossed for the wishing pig!