False People

Life is about experiences. Life is about meeting people and touching them. I don’t mean physically either but some people you will touch both mentally and physically. I have tried to be a nice person and I think in most cases I have succeeded. I believe I am genuine, honest, and compassionate and show this to people. Sure I can be catty, sarcastic, moody and mean too. My friends and people who know me well can tell when I really mean it. But my one pet hate is phoney people. I can tell instantly a genuine compliment, greeting of cheerfulness or whether the person really means it. I have this radar I think that sends out alarm signals like great bells ringing at the top of a church tower when someone says: “Oh it’s sooooooo wonderful to see you again – I haven’t had my daily fix of you yet!” At the same time they are rushing at you with both arms open. Yuk!
The other thing I hate is when people you don’t know actually touch you or grab you. I love physical contact – when I initiate it, or if I really like someone and it’s appropriate, but to be groped at by the person who has just said the above to me makes me want vomit profusely all over them. There’s a new person at my workplace and they actually said that to me a few days ago. Scary thing is we are all sucking up to them because they may end up being the person who hires or fires us! So that makes me a phoney too.

If I Don't Wake Up Tomorrow

If for some bizarre reason I didn’t wake up tomorrow morning, I have lived a pretty full and amazing existence so far and have many moments to be thankful for. I also have a few things I would have changed if I could. So here follows two lists: One is the top experiences I can remember today and the other, the pits of my life so far. Let’s start with the bad stuff and then end on the highs.

1. Finding Michael my partner, of 15 years dead in our garage after he’d hung himself.
2. Being kicked in the face by Jack, an abusive partner. My worst husband by far. I hate him along with the bitch that stole my money (see number 6)
3. Living with Jack and putting up with his shit for far too long.
4. Adrian. He was a total loser and when I left Tasmania I stupidly left him in my house to mind it. He would use my phone to call me and hassle me. He would threaten to kill himself. Not a good thing to do to someone who’d lost someone through suicide.
5. Sailing off the east coast of Tasmania in a 26-foot yacht and being seasick in 40 foot waves and wishing I was dead. After that trip I never got back on our boat again and insisted it be sold.
6. Disappointing my father by not being the kind of son he wanted and never having a close relationship with him. We have never really talked. He is now losing his faculties as Alzheimer’s sets in.
7. Having thousands of dollars stolen from me. See Expats In Jakarta Hati-Hati.
8. Having problems with legal guardianship, getting a passport or any secure future for Oliver, my son.

It’s quite reassuring when looking at the first list to discover there are only a few items. This list is much longer. Here we go!

1. Being French-kissed by a man in front of a crowd in a restaurant and them applauding.
2. Holding a three-day old baby and knowing I would do anything for this child. His mother didn’t want him. I vowed to raise him and give him a wonderful life.
3. Swimming naked at The Gorge swimming pool at night with a lover.
4. Spending 3 weeks on an isolated Greek Island, Lipsi and having yoghurt and honey for breakfast, riding a motorbike to the beach and sunbaking all day.
5. Painting & drawing.
6. Being stoned at a staff dinner and the school principal not knowing and actually saying out loud, “Is Stephen ok?” I was taking pictures of myself with a camera and may have been overly interested in firing the flash into my face.
7. Turning 33 in Paris.
8. Driving a yellow Renault Virage. It was a station wagon and so cool to drive. I used to drive 400 kilometres every weekend as I taught on the east coast of Tasmania for a while but my house was in Launceston.
9. Robert and Oscar – two amazing friends. They’re separated now but I remember so many great evenings at their tiny cottage in the country where we’d eat, talk, listen to music, swap books, get drunk and dance. I never had sex with them – but always thought about it.
10. Playing the flute while Oscar played the piano.
11. Spending a weekend on Flinders Island with Michael, Oscar & Robert.
12. Flying from Melbourne to London by myself when I was very young.
13. Spending three months in Frankfurt with my father’s twin brother. He is gay, I am sure but has never come out. He had male friends visit but no one ever stayed. One, an English guy called Keith came and took me for a spin around Frankfurt in a blue Alfa-Romeo sports car. Stupid thing is I didn’t realise I was gay back then either! If I had I probably would never have left Frankfurt and married an Englishman with a blue sports car.
14. Skiing in Falls Creek, Victoria Australia.
15. Leaving Tasmania to work in Indonesia. Thank you Peter King. You gave me the job here and my life has been this incredible roller coaster ever since.
16. Buying my first house and renovating it. It was small and it was cheap and I did all the painting. I sold it a few years ago and made quite a profit.
17. Four years at university. I loved every minute of being a student. I worked hard and played even harder.
18. Phillip – husband number one. He was an anaesthetist and one night dragged me to the operating theatre with him. I was ‘a medical student’ – it was incredible I observed three operations.
19. Carlton. Long story that one. Deserves it’s own entry.
20. Travelling lots since I have lived in Indonesia. China, India, Brunei, Malaysia, Vietnam, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Korea.
21. Smoking a joint while driving and not actually being killed in an accident.
22. Clive, my friend from year 11 and 12. I fell in love with him. He didn’t ever know this. He lived on a farm. I would stay at his house sometimes and sleep in his room and lay there trying to work up the courage to sneak over and get into bed with him. But I never did.
23. Dancing at Heaven.
24. My first taste of wine at my Auntie Dot’s house when I was fourteen.
25. Getting high with Kevin and us both drawing and painting while stoned. He was the art teacher at St Helens where I was teaching and I had a little affair with him while I was married to Michael.
26. Living with Regina at Falmouth, on Tasmania’s east coast in a house with no curtains overlooking the sea.
27. Swapping clothes with my friend Kaye at a staff dinner and her boyfriend saying the dress looked better on me than her.
28. Hosting a cocktail party with Rachel. What a woman! She was my dearest friend while I was at St Helens teaching. We’ve lost touch now too.
29. My cousin, Craig. I fell in love with him too. We went camping at Lake St Clair. It was so cold we ended up sleeping in one sleeping bag and I had an erection all night. How naïve and timid you can be when young. Given the same situation now and I wouldn’t just lay there all night thinking about doing it with him.
30. Buying a Bose stereo in Singapore and putting it in a suitcase to bring back to Indonesia.
31. One night stands. Many, one-night stands. I have only once, not gone to bed with someone I’d met casually. That’s pretty amazing considering. He had awful teeth!
32. Having an exhibition of photographs at a prominent Launceston gallery and them all selling.
33. Having an exhibition of paintings at another prominent Launceston gallery many years later and most of them selling.
34. Getting drunk at dinner parties with Craig & Denis. They were great friends and we did all this stuff together as two couples. When Michael died and I came to Indonesia we drifted apart and now I don’t see them.
35. Working with Shireen, Terry, Amanda and all the people who were at Waverley Primary School. Tough kids to teach because there were so many social problems but the staff were all good friends and would go out for dinner and party on often because we all got on really well and it was genuine.
36. Vicki Mackrill. One of the few women I would jump on now.
37. My Mum. I think mums are really the only ones that will ever love you unconditionally.
38. Having sex on the bonnet of my Saab. After Michael died I bought this beautiful gold Saab with leather seats a CD player and sunroof because he was so frugal with money. We’d talked about buying one but never did.

God this list could go on forever. Each day I will think of more things to add to it and try not to add them. As I thought - I have lived. But there’s so much more to come too. The one thing I think I have learnt from all of this and want to emphasize is something that comes from one of Somerset Maugham’s novels – Of Human Bondage I think, and it talks about your life experiences being a painting. What sort of canvas will you leave?

Lost Luggage

Have just been in Bali for the weekend with my boyfriend. Thursday and Friday last week before I went to Bali, were not high points in our relationship. Lots of tension over silly things like him insisting I remove the picture on my website. (See Band Aids) Then he got cross with me because I tried to call him on Thursday night. I rang several times but couldn’t get through on his cell phone. I rang his house too. When we finally did talk, he told me that he had a friend coming to Bali and was it ok if he stayed in the villa with us? I was furious. He couldn’t understand why. I was angry because he hadn’t discussed it first and I didn’t want to have someone else hanging around. He’d already told his friend before he checked with me. I hadn’t seen him for a month. Fortunately the villa has two bedrooms. Maybe I was annoyed that this person was freeloading. I said something really silly too. That all this felt very familiar. My previous partner had done lots of things, like getting angry with me for no reason and making me do things, both of which were hallmarks of our disastrous three years together. I’d drunk too much wine on Thursday night and yes was a little cranky too.
Friday morning my distraught partner called and told me he had left his luggage in the taxi that had driven him to work and had lost it. He said he was so upset that I was angry with him from the night before and that he’d left it in the taxi because of that. Oh boy! Friday wasn’t a good day. I told him gently that it wasn’t my fault he’d lost his luggage.
If it had of been me I wouldn’t have coped at work and would have spent the day chasing every taxi in Jakarta to find it.
However all was fine in Bali. We made jokes about how he was travelling lightly. In fact with only the clothes he had on. Before he arrived I took great delight in buying him a shirt I know he’d tried to find in Jakarta and some underpants. The friend turned out to be quite nice. We hardly saw him. He was keen to find someone to have sex with while in Bali. The three of us went to the gay beach for lunch and a swim. The beach itself deserves its own little story. The friend stripped off to swim and I did happen to notice he had nice very nipples.
The morals to this story: A boyfriend can have a friend who may have nice nipples and never ever leave a taxi without checking you have your luggage!

Band Aids

Thank God for Band Aids – well I can’t say that because I am an atheist. Well thank you whoever invented them! Last night while preparing a gourmet feast of spaghetti bolognaise (cooked lovingly even using a cup of the red wine that I was also drinking), I cut my thumb whilst grating the parmesan cheese. I soldiered on trying to ignore the bleeding and just occasionally wiping it with a handy tissue. I was also playing on both computers at my house – backing up files from my laptop to the eMac that takes up three quarters of my dining table. The bloody thing just keep oozing blood so I had to resort to actually finding a Band Aid to stem the flow. Just one little magic strip of cloth and plastic and I am back in action. Amazing things. The thumb grating was just the caviar on the blini in what turned out to be a shitty day really. My month old waitlist status on a flight to get back from Australia during my break turned out to be never list and subsequently my holiday plans are now in complete chaos. My partner in Jakarta threw a fit about a black and white image I’d taken, which graces the photography slide show on my website, and insisted I remove it. It was a really nice shot of a man who spent a night at my house once. He possessed a very fine body and ample crutch. He posed enthusiastically on my sofa and the image is of him reclining, bare-chested, from chest to just above the knees. He is wearing tight blue jeans and there are two remote controls. I protested that it was a great shot. My partner, in his insecurity failed to see its artistic merit. Probably because when he asked me about it, I said the subject was someone I had had sex with. Oh boy, that was an interesting night too. I distinctly remember being woken at some wee hour in the morning when Anton waved his arm in a sleepy stupor, knocking a crystal wine glass off the bedside table, sending it smashing to the floor. Luckily, the glass was empty. He didn’t even wake up as I studiously vacuumed the shards off the floor ensuring he wouldn’t need multiple Band Aids on his feet in the morning.
All I can say is thank God it was a cheese grater last night that I was dealing with and not a band saw or large rampant out of control motor vehicle coming towards me, or stacks of broken wine glasses on the floor. Maybe someone could invent really massive Band Aids that would work on major bleeds.

Fatherhood

Being a single dad has its moments. And doing it the way I have has certainly been and still is a jumbled, tangled, treacherous journey. But more about that some other time. I am having troubles at the moment with my nearly six-year old son. He is rebelling and everyday seems to be a battle with him. He quite bluntly says, NO to me. Sometimes it takes three or four repeated instructions to get him to do what he is asked. Trouble is I deal all day with similar behaviours from a very challenging, attention seeking, student in my class and when I get home I don't want to have to deal with it again. But that is what's happening with my son. He is doing all this stuff just to push my buttons and at the end of the day I have little or no patience. I end up being really grumpy with him for the smallest thing. He has always displayed fairly eccentric, creative behaviour - like pretending he is a dinosaur and making deep growling noises while thumping about the living room. At the end of the day sometimes all I want is to crash in quiet for maybe a few minutes but he is always full on go, go, go. Maybe it's me over-reacting too. This morning he leapt into my bedroom and woke me knocking the charging mobile phone off the side table. I didn't grump. I said, ggod morning possum as I usually do. Later after breakfast he gave me a cuddle and I said to him, I love you but I don't like some of your behaviours lately. So the day started nicely. When I get home this evening I will make a big effort to not grump. Maybe I should borrow his dinosaur tail and thump about the house too.

House Painting

So many ideas go through my head about things I want to wrtie about it's ridiculous. Stupid thing is I haven't written any of them - yet. I am going to try and remedy that, starting now. I decided to have some painting done at my little house on the beach. The back porch is especially drab and unloved. There are lots of potted plants there now and more furniture than is inside the house but it all looked junky and uninviting. The deck faces the beach and everyone who visits is envious of my backyard view to the ocean. So I thought I should make more of it and spend more time sitting out there. Blue was chosen as the colour and now it's been done I am contemplating painting the rest of the house. I have this weird idea of doing each wall a different colour though - not just any old colours but connected somehow. When I say I am having the walls painted I mean someone else is doing it. I am paying them. I asked my friend and general handy person to do it and he wouldn't because I had bought the 'wrong paint'. The only colour I liked was available in a water based paint and he was adamant it wouldn't stay on the metal wall where I wanted it put. My maid volunteered the services of her husband's brother I think she said, and he is the one doing the painting right now as I type. He was there on Saturday too and like some Indonesian men, seemed very curious about this 'bule' he was working for. He is quite nice looking and my mind did wander to thoughts of ripping his clothes off...........but I didn't. I am still working up the courage to ask my maid how old he is. He looks about 18 but it's hard to tell. If he is 20, well maybe yes, I would see if he wants to play with the white man - just once.