Wow, it’s been some two weeks since I posted a public post. Too much going on behind the scenes…

Am too tired to bother really posting now, either! Just got back from my final band rehearsal… I’ll be gone a week from now. And I am a bit down about that. I know, I know, I can come back to band, but things change. With so much going on in the next 8 months, who knows where we/I/it/they/everything will stand when we come back?

Too much to do, far too little time.

I could talk about my last week at work, sax lessons, more floods, the popping up of long-lost people into my life again (sort of), the grand frustration of my family members (again!)… all the random things that have been going on, both in tangible life and in my head… but I have a horrid headache and I think I shall instead just go. to. bed.

I should be excited. And I will be! But right now all is grey and I am so smotheringly tired.

1) 19 days.

2) Elma peed on Zaubi’s head at 5AM on Wednesday. It was somewhat reminiscent of the 2002 NYC 3AM cat pee experience, except a) Zaubi didn’t scream anything incoherant in Chinese and b) there were only two people in 1 bed, not five people in 2.

3) The other day i nearly ran over a little old couple. They were dawdling across the street as I came racing around the corner, and they both ran in opposite directions to get away from me, like panicked possums.

4) This afternoon a policeman took a picture of me. As I exited the highway at high speed, I noted that there was a huge line at the light, so I went merrily around it (since I was turning left and dint’ want to wait) by driving on the shoulder. It turned out that the lineup was due to an accident or some such and as I went blitzing by a cop stepped out and took a picture. Hoepfully it was of the damaged car and not of my miscreant-ness. I’ve noted that cops seem to really hate it when people get around the traffic by driving on the median/shoulder/non-lane. Oh well.

There’s a jazz fest on this week in Brisbane so we went out tonight to check out some of the groups. Wasn’t too impressed. By the time we got out there were only two groups left – the first was ok, but the place was smotheringly crowded and the girl in front of me was continually rubbing her butt against me in a very disconcerting fashion. I don’t understand who/what she thought I was, I tried backing up but she would back into me and do it again. Next time i’m going to bring a sharp object so that whoever gets too close receives a pointy surprise…

The second group was too artistic for me. The bassist made the most hilariously contorted expressions – it was hard not to laugh!For a lot of it he was only playing about 1 note every 5 seconds so it would be this massive performance – he’d sway passionately in place, screw up his face into an expression of ecstatic agony, tilt his bass at a frightening angle (it actually slipped out once and I thought it was going to hit the floor for sure) and pluck… A! And 5 seconds later, repeat the performance with another A. Moreover, my feet feel asleep and then woke up with screaming pins & needles during a very emotional piano solo moment.

It was simply too emo-artistic for my my cultural Philistine self.

Zaubi just made himself a bowl of cereal for dinner, but instead of pouring milk on it, he put fresh-squeezed carrot juice.

Gross.

Woke up today on the wrong side of the bed. As the time approaches for me/us to leave (27 days now) I have these moments of feeling really unsettled. It isn’t so much that I am nervous about moving to a new country — I’m really not — it is more like I see that one more phase of life is passing — again! — and I can’t hold onto it.

And indeed, I don’t want to hold onto it, exactly, but yet I do… it’s like what I said the other day, about running as fast as possible toward the next thing, while simultaneously looking back over my shoulder. This has always been my modus operandi. I relish new adventure so much that I go racing toward it, flinging everything else aside, but in later, quieter moments, I mourn for the people, places and situations that are forever lost, and that I didn’t really relax enough to enjoy, while I still had them.

Bah. I *put* myself in these situations! I arrange them! On purpose! Every single time! And yet still –

I know I will be coming back to Australia in 8 months or so, but by then, life will be totally, irrevocably different. And that scares me silly, really.

Went to work fully an hour late, feeling down and out with the blues (a line from YMCA that always goes through my head in these situations). Audrey Hepburn would call it the mean reds. Anyway, went to work fully morose, got my stuff done, got dead bored. Then my dear, dear, office mate brought me some happiness by sharing a box of the most disgusting jelly beans I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting. I had a snot-flavoured jelly bean. I kid you not.

Then I spent my last few moments (I shouldn’t admit this) Googling the Tupperware Cult. I found two links, both of them amused me so much in my strange, unbalanced state that I cried. Literally. In my office. I cried. From laughing. Or maybe it was just beacuse I was so near crying all day, anyway.

http://www.simegen.com/writers/lois/burptop.htm

http://davebarry.com/misccol/tupperwaresong.htm

I forgot to mention…

I learned three things yesterday. Two were Tupperwisdom:

1) Do not ever put your block knives through the dishwasher: apparently all chefs know this and keep it fiercely (whoops)
2) Do not store onions and potatoes together, or your potatoes will turn a strange and poisonous green (I was wondering why this always happened)

Those are useful pieces of information. But the third thing filled me with shock and horror: when I came home, still in a fit of laughing, Zaubi looked at me very seriously and told me that he LIKED Tupperware!!!

Maybe I should host a Tupperparty for him.