Tag: 1996

28 years. A letter to myself.

0 – born. you looked like a frog and kind of like your maternal grandmother in a bad mood.

1 – walking. according to reports, a real personality. keen on playing at early hours of morning. already found your niche and primeval swamp

2 – talking. alot. “you know why catherine is so heavy? because she is full of words!”

3 – preschool. you met karen, vaughn and a litany of people who would smack back into your life 25 years later with aplomb and full of memories.

4 – biting your nails already by this age. stubborn.

5 – began school. at this stage you looked remarkably alot like your daughter does now. on the first day of school, you left your mom at the classroom door and said “i can do it by myself”

6 – your best friends are karen, taryn and daine. at karen’s birthday party, there was the ‘interesting’ pool incident.

7 – you move to a small town with your family and start to hate and love life at the same time. you hate the small town. you love having a swimming pool, although you never get into it properly. this is the year you learn another language.

8 – you move back to the primeval swamp. you are so happy to be home.

9 – you’re at a new school. you meet some of the people who will be around forever. your clearest memory of this year is of the person who will one day become your child’s father standing in class queue, and losing your ring. and of charlene fainting. your best friend is tracy and she’s crazy then, and she’s crazy now.

10 – you begin to rebel and cut up your swimming costume in a fit of I DO NOT WANT TO BE THROWN INTO THE POOL AGAIN DURING SWIMMING LESSONS AT SCHOOL THANK YOU. I WILL LEARN IN MY OWN TIME. You hate a lot that year. You have an awesome teacher though. The cat pees on your homework. Someone you will meet again many years later, will remember this.

11 – you are sat next to your lifelong friend in class. stuff you don’t like starts to come out of the woodwork. You have a good teacher, a lovely heart and a new kitty familiar to get you through. You hate cold places. You teach yourself to swim.

12 – you’re elected prefect. Bart Simpson is king of the world and you have a hoodie to prove it. You have no idea why you’re elected prefect but, you meet someone extremely special and strong this year. She will be a guide and inspiration to you for many days, even on her wedding day. Your best friend is Charlene, and you start noticing boys, boobs and the word “bollocks”.

13 – you begin the dreaded high school. Your best friend is Jo. You do fight alot. You kiss a boy for the first time. Many years later, he is working with your best friend.

14 – you bring home your first ‘boyfriend’. You dump him before he realises how crap you are and dumps you, Jo walks home with you. You really think you are crap. You ditch the alice band. You get dumped on New Years Eve.

15 – you lose your virginity. You hate that statement. You meet Steve. Again. Waha. You start going out and loving the crazy life. You meet Sarah. You do crazy, silly things and enjoy “talking to aliens”. Steve breaks up with you but you’re never far from each other’s side. You meet Kate one night in a freezing cold swimming pool. You start to write.

16 – you’re loving life. You have awesome friends, you have an infatuation we can safely call bruce. (hindsight is so 20/20…), you begin to spend a lot of time with Jose. and Michael. and Matthew. You start to realise that people are different and don’t always respond well when thrown into a room together. One night during a horror movie, Steve catches you beginning to create the future. He is not shocked. You are a little. You try on a million personalities. You keep a few. You write and write and write.

17 – you feel a little lost but, certain to continue trying.  You meet the person who’s name is on his shirt. You lose interest way earlier than anyone else notices. You go to your matric dance, you hate every second. you realise very quickly that you’re there with the wrong person so, you and your partner in crime, Janet, smoke and laugh at the ridiculousness of everyone. Your sister leaves for the UK. You finish school and do well. You have no idea how. Jose dies. You miss your friend from that day on.

18 – you start varsity. deciding that path in life was one of the most exciting times of your life. it was that experience that taught you about your dad and how much he gives a shit. After ignoring him, actively, for many years, you start to rely on him more and more. You meet Graeme. You have a sweet relationship, a true college romance. You meet Garry and Stu. You do well at uni, and finish off first year quite drunk and somewhere in a swimming pool.

19 – You begin second year, a little more sure about life. You start to realise more and more about yourself, what you hate and what you want to keep. You spend more and more time with the people some people deem as ‘inferior’ or ‘rebellious’. You don’t care. You get a part-time job at the video store. You ditch Graeme, you remain close though. You do well, and by the time you finish that year, you’ve decided on a few things. You re-meet a nice boy and spend some time learning about how life truly isn’t about how much you can gain, but about how people matter way more.  You finish your degree and celebrate by stamping your dad’s toe by accident and smoking a cigar.

20 – you spend a lot of time at home with your dad. In hindsight, you love this time. You study, you work (the video store years!), you spend a lot of time having fun, you realise you’re in love with someone who’s loved you since his 7th birthday. The words “once upon a rooftop sat…” resonate alot around your life. Garry and Steve move to Ireland and thus begins the ‘spleenvent’ email series. You get your first ‘real’ job and meet J&R, who become your other parents. You get chickenpox.

21 – You get your first ‘real’ job and meet J&R, who become your other parents. You get chickenpox. You ravish up unemployment with writing. You love sitting in your window writing. You muse and live and love. You get your second ‘real’ job. You get your heart broken. You meet Allan.

22 – You move out of home into the second 6 of your addresses. You love living with Allan. You love the wooden floors, you love the craziness. You attempt to cook chicken and instantly go vegetarian. You love the constant music, the mad neighbours (yes, thats you Neville!) You collapse and are medicated for depression. Your dad celebrates with you with chelsea buns. You quit your job. J&R find you a new one with them. Allan leaves. You move home and hate it. You’re obnoxious and unpleasant. And unsure of yourself. So so so unsure of yourself. You keep writing.

23 – you find a new home, the third six in your domestic addresses. You live with Tam. Life is good, crazy and excellent. You and her get lost a lot. You love life. You’re single. You’re not. You’re single. You’re not. Whatever. it doesn’t matter. Life’s great. You meet Mr K. Life is a great party. You meet Micky and Gabi and a lunacy of wonderful people. Some of them, in later years, turn out to not be wonderful. You lick a girl called Lauren’s face. You laugh. You have no idea how that’ll save your life one day. One night at the Winston, a beautiful blond girl says to you “Nice rack. We’re going to be the best of friends forever”. She is right. Garry comes home to visit and you invent the cigarette game. He decides to come home to the madness.

24 – you love life. You decide you want to be with the person you feel closest to. It’s strange and comfort and warm. You move homes and live with Garry and Galaxian. The GaMaCa R***job House, the first 12 in your domestic address history. You keep writing. You have wonderful people, you still worry about whether or not you’re doing the right thing. You begin to learn about your anger. Your dad has a stroke. You worry.you go to splashy and hate it. your brother gets married to the girl he loves above all.  You write alot.

25 – You have Vic in your life, cash crusaders ‘n’ all. On Christmas Eve, your sister says “i’ll bet you anything you’re pregnant” whilst she’s got you in a change room in a shopping mall, trying on the world’s ugliest pink skirt as an alleged “bridesmaid posssibile outfit”. You go home, you pee on a stick. Your sister “gets the camera”. You phone Garry. Your parents are over the moon. Your brother comes home for the first time in ages. Galaxian does not speak for two weeks. You freak out alot. You stop writing for a long time. Your sister gets married. By the time your parents get home from the wedding, your father is dying.

You spend a lot of time with him when you are pregnant. You can’t write. You have no idea what to do. You keep believing. Somehow. You move back to your third domestic address.

You give birth in an insanely fast way. You meet your daughter. You fall in love. Mother lion love. You want to protect at all costs. This never changes.

Your father dies two days after you fail to recognise him and three weeks after his first grandchild is born. You cannot write. You cannot cry. You just stare. You get left alone alot. It is not anyone’s fault.

26 – you are medicated for depression. You go numb. You start to write again. You write your way right back into life. You do it for you, You do it for her. You do it for her, again and again and again. Your child is electrocuted one day at school. She gets pneumonia. Your mother lion love grows and grows.  You force dangerous things out and lose the person you love the most because you have to, to survive.  you live alone, you try at love again and fail. You don’t know why. You try everything, your Mother lion love keeping you warm at night. You live alone with your little child. You worry. You never sleep. Your Mother lion love keeps you going. Your friends love you the way you need. You are okay. Your niece is born.

27 – you end up in hospital. garry saves your life YET again. you spend five days pondering the meaning of life, solidly, and without interruption. you meet someone. you battle. you finally let go. it’s so sad he cannot stay. your heart is broken so that it can finally work properly – without expectation. you write and write and you cannot stop at all. you are sad, and alone, but okay. you keep writing. lauren arrives at your house with yellow flowers. Your Mother Lion Love and your Friends keep you going. You miss your dad. The sixes and twelves surround you every day. You write like never before.

28 – you meet the first person to ever truly stop you on your best friend’s birthday. you doubt and doubt and doubt yourself, you spend a lot of time wondering. you smile alot. you’re still astounded by them even though you don’t tell them. you try to do something that is the safe option in life. You are so wrong. You are broken again. You learn about getting up. Your second niece is born. Your Mother Lion Love grows. Every single one of your high school friends has children. You keep writing. You live with someone so much like you it’s the comfort you wanted at home all along.

You are brave. You step straight into love. You don’t run anymore. You shout COWS alot. You are so happy. You are unashamedly silly and it’s the warmest room in your house of life.

Your courage is rewarded. You have a crazy life. Busy. Vibrant. Full of love.

You are so blessed.

Happy Birthday.

p.s. SOTD – Incomplete – a line from it: I have been running so sweaty my whole life, Urgent for a finish line,
And I have been missing the rapture this whole time of being forever incomplete

16 years with 12 years experience

yes. it’s true. tomorrow i shall be 16 again! Yes, true, with 12 years experience, but hey, that fits for this year… roll on and wash on over me 1996 again. 😀

I received a note this morning. Funny. I wrote one to myself on Sunday morning (circa 2am post-surprise birthday shindig bestest of all time i have no idea how i got so lucky holy fuck there were 12 candles waha).

I don’t know who the letter is from. I have a damn good idea who it’s from, though.

I’m keeping it forever.

Thank you. I know you’re reading this.

You’ve never been this you before
So unforgivingly open and feeling
Yet so closed to the world.

You are learning to use your exuberance for good
And not to gain the attention of the unworthy ones.

You are leaving your mark without stain
And you’re finally moving up to taking blame for your own pain.

You’ve cuddled and kissed and learnt so much.
You are reaching more than you just touch.

You are still meek and mild
And, look at you,
You are raising a beautiful child.

You are, at last, at one with your mind.
To yourself, you begin to be kind.

Dear Larcy

I know I promised you a sickbag, and I swear, it’s coming, but today’s run away with me.

So much to tell you.

Happy MTV Day. SACK.

X

– vonda 😉

p.s. trampoline style. 🙂 (a little shocked yet comforted to find someone else using that phrase…hehe4)

p.p.s. ‘i’m at home in this high-five’. it was a grand weekend of sunshine and bliss. (hehe4)

p.p.p.s Watch Juno and ‘don’t die’.

p.p.p.p.s TWO DAYS LEFT of TWO. Sack.

p.p.p.p.p.s @NotKay – I’m alot braver since Friday. Ifyouknowwhatimean.

26 letters of demographic data

.26 letters of demographic data.
.for the end of 27 years.
.for the beginning of 28 years.

(thanks to franklywrankles for the original idea that spawned this)

As I said to Will this morning whilst commiserating with him via text message about some of the strange places out there in the BWW (Big Wide World), the day of the great life think month has begun. It does not scare me as much as it has in previous years.

The sun rose this morning, making it’s little rainbow island of cloud along the horizon. Orange and blue and black inbetween. A little yellow spreading out towards the buildings.

And, there I was, smiling. Listening to someone notsosmallanymore talk about how she IS wearing her gumboots to school and “no, i am not wearing that shirt today mommy, it’s the same as emma’s and I can’t wear the same shirt as her! She’s my friend and I love her but no, that would suck a bit”.

I sat there, smiling at the sunshine, smiling at this person who, three years before, was still within my belly, making me ginormous and watermelon-like. And trust me, people, I have photos you will never see, I was massive. If you think I walk funny now…

Anyway, I digress. I was listening to Cameron and pondering the usual “Holy crap. Three years and now you’re telling me what you think your wardrobe should consist of!” thoughtbrain. And there it was, unaccountably and unexpectedly, the great prebirthday month-think had begun. The part where I send Will this message: “I think it’s time for me to evaluate the year”.

I will, definitely, be wearing the tiara this year. 🙂

It’s funny, really. If you had told me, on this day, one year ago, that I would be any of the 26 things below, I would never have believed you….

a. Living with Shebee. Seriously. Dudes. This rocks my world.

b. Loving Mommyhood every day more and more and more and more until I could actually burst.

c. Relatively healthy and continuing. (actually, on that score, ALOT healthier, lest we forget the HOLY SHIT ITS A KIDNEY INFECTION AND BJORK COPIES ME incident of last year)

d. More open to sharing the MommyMe with the world (I never thought that would happen, to be honest. I even remember saying to Buddy once, “SocialCath and MommyCath just don’t mix”. It turns out, I was wrong. They’re really the same person now). I’m not afraid of letting people join in the craziness of domestic life with Cath anymore. Chocolate and Donkeys inclusive.

e. Missing Larcy as much as I do. I would never have been able to tell from that crazy Everton/Man United game, that, from that, would spring so much resonation.

f. Entirely free of certain previously influential forces that come in the shape of people.

g. That I’d be dancing in the rain with the most beautiful man in the whole world.

h. More powerful, and willing to use it for myself. And I say that without ego. It used to take me a year to get over a seemingly personal affront. The time it takes me to get past something grows shorter. I’m realising what should be significant and what should be ignored.

i. Not feeling guilty for calling a Time Out when I need CathTime.

j. An aunty again. I am so blessed with love from the little girls in our family. Aunty Caff, indeed.

k. Still living where I live and loving it. With its idiosyncracies and crazy people (not just the ones that live within the walls).

l. Wiser. I thought I’d learnt enough. Turned out, life had a few lessons it had for me still. And that, not only, would I be saddened by them, but, in retrospect, am so glad they happened. Even if it did leave me lying on the lounge floor again.

m. Learning more and more about resilience from my child. The wisdom of a nearly three-year old is unparallelled, people. Seriously, let’s put the pre-schoolers in government. We’d do a lot better, I think.

n. Finally realising that I have been “missing the rapture this whole time of being forever incomplete”. Finally realising the rapture of every day. Every second. Every “little smile” and every rainbow sunshine.

o. Somehow, finally, getting beyond the cloud of self-doubt that has pervaded me for so long. So so so long. I’m not saying that I am without self-doubt, I believe it can drive me sometimes to do better, climb higher and be more. But, I am saying, that it’s not reigning me as much as it once did.

p. That my best friends may not be on the telephone every day. But that they do exist. This not having to be seen; to see; to be; all the time routine, is really very liberating.

q. That I wouldn’t be on Facebook. That’s a big one for me.

r. Sumup of the above two points – the learning to live my life without having to exhibit it all the time. Holy God, is that maturity on some level? I just find honest, direct communication much more meaningful nowadays. Holy God, that is some semblance of maturity.

s. I didn’t think that would happen.

t. Even more so, I didn’t think that it would happen and, not only would I be happy about it, but exhilarated and liberated by it.

u. Less afraid of being open. Truly open. And finding it, also, liberating and exciting.

v. Having Gladys. I was so sure I was doomed to a life of going to work in unironed pants. I never knew the richness she would bring to my life, that goes well beyond my ironed pants.

w. Able to feel strong and not feel the need to shut people out to do so. Does that make sense? It does to me. To be able to feel strong in a room of people is new to me. To be able to feel strong not in a room of people is also new to me. Does that make any sense at all? Do I care? No.

x. Learning and realising and living the theory that the little steps really are the big ones. I always kept my eye on the big steps and felt unaccountably unable to take them. So I wouldn’t take any. I realise now how silly I was in some instances.

y. Realising that everyone can teach you something. Yes, even the people ignoring you.

z. That, truly, the people in my life are the ones who want to be here. That being vulnerable with them is okay. That they’re okay with me being vulnerable, and that they know I’m okay with them being vulnerable.

If you had told me a year ago that I would walk away from 27 more thankful than ever.

If you had told me a year ago that I would walk away from 27 with a fuller heart.

If you had told me a year ago that I would walk away from 27 without bitterness.

If you had told me a year ago that I would walk away from 27 with less telephone numbers stored on my phone.

If you had told me a year ago that my life would be simpler and funnier.

If you had told me a year ago that this year would be 1996 again.

If you had told me a year ago that I would be dancing more every day than I ever have.

If you had told me a year ago that I would walk away from 27 holding the hand of someone I had not yet met, and that they would be the most supremely beautiful man in the world…..

I would never have believed you.

But, trust me, I believe you.

A letter I will never send, to someone I will never know.

Dear ***

You don’t know me. In fact, we have never met and, circumstances aside, I doubt neither coincidence nor brute force, strong will or begging will make such a meeting occur.

That said, I believe I know more about you than you would be comfortable with. I have shared your dreams, read your letters and held your hand through time travel. I have relived and revived and revisited all the places that still haunt you, even though you fear
admission of them, to anyone. Least of all, her.

You see, ***, all she ever wanted was to love you. I quote something I read once, which I know, resonated with her: “Asleep, you are curled like a question mark. I want to be the only answer you’ll ever need”.

And she did, she let you in, you let her love you, and through the inhalation and exhalation of life, you were where she began.

You see, ***, I don’t write this letter in anger towards you for spurning a memory again.

I thank you for this closure you have finally offered, but moreover, i want to thank you for letting her begin.

Were it not for you, ***, I do not know how the commonality that exists between myself and the person we hold common, would have blossomed so quickly and magnificently as it had. If she had been boxed in or labelled before she’d begun, I wonder if she would ever had begun at all.

I don’t doubt in any way that it was our destiny to have commonality but, maybe the texture of it would have been a little different. I thank you for the texture – the warm comfort of home that I feel with
her, and the spectacular ease with which I know we can and do resonate.

It was you who taught her to be brave. And ***, it was her who taught me to be brave, even when the world crashes into the sky and the moon collides with the sun. So, I thank you, a million times, for this.

I don’t write this to shout at you. I write this to thank you for all that you were and all that you were not. I thank you for the guidance you have shown to me, as I begin again in life. It is through our common person’s wisdom and courage, that I, have been able to begin again. To believe again. To unashamedly purge and rise again. And to not give up.

Dear ***, I thank you for your closure. I thank you for being brave enough, finally, not to shut out, as you have done to her for so many years, and so many years before that, when you and her were in much closer life proximity than you are today – geographical distance aside.

I have seen your face in turmoil. I have seen your face in joy – photographs are more telling than you think. I have watched as she cried to be let in, and revelled in running free of it all. I believe your closure is best, as hard and as stabbing as it is to her dreams.

You have reminded me and I believe, her, that the pursuit of happiness has nothing to do with how far you run, or how high you jump, but that the pursuit of happiness is all about coming home.

Goodbye, ***. I wish you all the joy and turmoil that makes you free. That makes you live.

And I thank you for letting the person we hold common, live.

With respect and my honour,
Cath

and with that, it is confirmed, its 1996.again.

tonight, the beginning began again for larcy jane mcarsey.

i knew there was a reason for me sitting up and speaking of you with tea in my hand and a hill of the dun lit and poised.

i know you are sitting there, transontinentally, poring over the words: “im still prone to being a complete ass”

i’m with you la. i’m with you. holding your hand and wearing your one shoe. and yes, i know, they ARE the same person.

X

a monday sick bag to get you by.

Dear Larcy

I’m sat here listening to Green Day and thought I’d begin a sick bag note to you. I walked into work this morning eating a banana and knew I had a sickbag in me, Hehe4. I’m sorry you had a rough night. I know you’re pining a little for that which is safe and known. It’s okay to do that, you know. It’s a sign of exciting times to be a little freaked out by so much life change. Trust me on this score – Sheena will tell you – I’m the same currently.

Last night, I sat there, staring at the window (there was no fire through it at that time haha), and thinking “holy god, this is awesome. all of it. it’s 1996. someone hand me a blanket shirt and a menthol ciggie”.

And then I tripped over the trampoline and thought of you (typical retarded cath action). Thought of you and wondered how you were. Are you eating? Have you seen enough? Did you know that they took the sparkly lights down from outside your flat? We drove by last night and I stalked and saw they were gone. No dead bodies or banners were hanging from the balcony so I’m certain the SuperTenants are doing just fine. Hells, it’s not like your flat’s kettle boils itself. Haha. I wonder if they’ve found THAT candle yet?

There was a moment on the weekend, where I wished you could have been behind my eyes (yell video now!). At the Stables on Sunday, I was buying ice cream. It was then that I wished you could be there. Just right there, for that ten seconds when my heart travelled right up my chest and into my head and i realised that my life is exactly as i want it to be. That I was genuinely happy. That everything we’d moaned about, clamoured for and whinged over salad for (hehe4) was now real life. Yeah, sure, throw in a neverending positive bank balance and fuck off, we’d be dancing til sunrise in new Manolo Blahniks. Hehe4.

So, let me update you on my weekend. Sunshine. Family. Friends. Cameron wah.

My sister arrived on Friday to surprise my mom. My mom’s beautific smile when I saw her on the Friday arvie over rolls and salad (yes, salad, i laughed whilst making it. Sidenote- mtv telepathy, the house just came on, and it’s on random shuffle mode. fuck. Was meant to write you a sickbag, clearly) made it awesome.

You know, it’s weird to have all my family in the room at the same time. it’s weird and it’s good weird, do you know what I mean? After all the empty nesting, then BOOM, altogether again. It’s funny how things don’t change, right?

Saturday was mom’s book fair. Again, the sibling massive (oh god. you’re canning yourself laughing at that term, but you know what i mean. no, it’s not a durban band waha) and it was good. Even when my blister sister prac joked me into making me look like I was making out with a table (only a Jenkin, right? waha).

Then took a little walk and sat by the ducks and had crumpets and chocolate milk. Sunshine, larcy, I know I don’t have to tell you anymore than that. I got an education in birds and smiled. alot. I saw some good people. You know the people who are always in your life and have your back from when you’re even littler than a grasshopper. Yeah, those people. Twas fab.

Took Cam to the stables yesterday. Shopping with Sheena is akin to having a crazy person.

On that note, I wanna tell you about the Shath Maxipad. Yes, I said Maxipad. Lemme do it for you. Shath = Sheena + Cath; Maxipad = Pad aka Abode of MaxiMum Coolness.

We laugh. Alot, Larcy. Alot. There is always laughter. There are constant dyslexic spoonerisms (do not show throughs!) and alot of walking inadvertedly into walls just because we have no cohordination. It’s amazing we’ve come this far without bubble suits. The food’s awesome, there are shoes everywhere, and Cam is loving it.

Onto that, Cameron. I don’t want to brag, you know I’m not into that. I asked her yesterday in the sunshine. I said “Cammie, are you happy?” . She looked at me, grinned and said “Yes, mampa (she’s not called me that in ages, not since the Buddy Days), I am happy”. Then she showed me, again, what she’s learnt at school. You would die. You would die, die, die.

She arranges her fingers carefully, tells me to watch as she bends two fingers in and makes the sign language sign for I love you. Then she says:

“Mampa, this means I love you and it’s for you”.

*dead. on carpet. reincarnated. am snail*

Cam and my niece fight exactly the same way my sister and I used to. Pulling each other’s hair and blaming each other. Waha. Heaven help us when they like.the.same.boy. You do know, it’ll happen. It’s the way it happens, right?

When she woke up this morning she saw another aeroplane in the sky and said “bye lala. bye cwaig”.

It’s funny. I keep looking at life today and thinking – it’s a thing of whimsy, this. This real life is really rather whimsical, hued with green and pink (sick colour scheme, gotta say, but i know you get me). But, the truth is, it’s not actually whimsical. It’s honest reality and it tastes just like a best-of-both toastie, you know what i’m saying? hehe4. We never thought the whim would one day be real. omfg yay.

I don’t need to tell you how relievingslashawesomeslashphenomenal things there are. How important and different and wonderful it is to be taken at face value and not feel pressured, and to be reciprocal in that way. You understand why. I just don’t feel pressured. It’s the icing on my barney cupcake. I wish i could ‘catch the deluge’ of good in a cup for you, and make you tea with it.

I was going to work up a press statement but, decided against it. Instead, I’ll leave you with this thought, and you’ll know exactly what I mean. SOTD: Good Fortune – PJ Harvey.

Have a good day, Larcy McArsey. Cook everything on high. Even long shots make it babyshoes.

X

whoop. okay.

whoop. okay.

Part One:

everybody’s fighting on the internet today. Except us. Wah.

I got your back and front SheenaBee, don’t you forget it. It’s unlikely you could, I realise this. Through smit and through shit. All the way.

To quote Tertia:



Part Two – Way More Important:

Right, now that that’s over. How about a little song for today, yeah? Yeah.

Shurrup. Look over there. It’s a bunny.

“I just get a couple of special characters”.

I said I’d do it today. And I so am. For people for whom we are known for running out of words for (boom, there goes that eloquence. pah). Shurrup Cath.

SOTD: here

a sickbag note for larcy

Dear Larcy

it’s strange how you can find me. you always do, don’t you?

I’m sitting here, post load-shedding, attempting productivity (did i tell you my productivity levels in this office have gone up oh, i don’t know 99% wah since you left? wah. hehe4) and not working and instead making a 1996 cd.

Yes, as in compilation tape but it’s a cd, told you. it’s 1996. told you told you told you.

Anyway, so I’m here, and doing it, furrowed brow and muffin in hand, and thinking i wish i could run the tracklist past you first before well, completing it.

I know you’d insist on Seether and throw in a bangles number because that’s the way we roll. hehe4. Then we’d talk about presentation, you’d throw in a smarm comment about getting someone else to do it, and we pretend it doesn’t happen and think about lunch instead.

I eat some more of the muffin and you’d laugh about it being 1996 and ask me if i have a blanket shirt on today.

I’d stab you in the eye with a spoon and you’d regale me with your recent story of how NOT to domestically succeed in the kitchen, without turning it into a nuclear warzone. (cf. a Jenkins recipe book – Cook Everything on High!)

You’d snark a comment about it all, and I’d laugh and regale you with how retarded I am in the dark.

If it were happening here, we’d both be freaking out, about tomorrow being the 17th april and the breeders and how it would be, how we would lean on each other and feel. Instead, I am working towards a massive seance type movement with you. Transcontinental Purge, we called it.

I finish my muffin, and begin burning said 1996ness cd, and then, it comes on iTunes.

Better Be Home Soon – The House.

It is then that I know, that with our MTV telepathy, boiling kettles, exploding appliances, wormy salads, dash of milk in cereal, 12s ahoy and matching cycles, that you are with me every day.

just tell me all the things you would change. i’ll wait for you to come around and spin my talk.

=)

love you larcy.