My Life in the Slow Lane

Apologies to you all, dear readers, for the slew of password protected posts over the last week.  I’m going through a very rough time right now after a very messy break-up with J.

Most of the time, during the day, I feel ok.  At night, on the other hand, I feel like I’m drowning.  Rather than crying on my own (too much), I’ve been trying to write down what is going on in my head to stop the whirlpool of thoughts from sucking me under.  These posts are entirely for my benefit, but I have chosen to allow my close friends to view them, so they can give me some feedback and, on occasion, tell me to get a grip and stop over-dramatising.

I’ve already sent an email to the friends who I know read this, but I may have forgotten someone, so if you would like the password, email me, but please do not be offended if I say no.

Regular programming will return as soon as I feel strong enough.

Well it’s been a loooong fortnight. In honour of the new me, I have a new host for the blog, new platform, new design and, consequently, new feed addresses…

So if you follow me using a feed reader, the links you need are:

• Post RSS
• Comments RSS

Thank you to Gus and Adam for the generous hosting offer. I’ve changed all the settings today, so it’ll probably take a few days for everything to work properly… The URL of the blog will remain the same, it’s just a new server…

Bear with me and I’ll post in the next few days about why this fortnight has been so unforgettable (despite my best efforts).

It’s funny how silly we get sometimes. Over the past month or so I’ve thought so many times “Gee, I should blog about that,” but I haven’t because I’ve left it so long. It’s like when you don’t ring someone because you haven’t rung them in so long that you feel stupid doing it now. So I’ve sat down and wrote a few bits and pieces down to catch up…

Since moving down to Sydney, I’ve rented a PO box since I don’t trust The Space Cadet not to burn and then smoke my mail. When I paid for the PO box I was given six months’ free redirection of my mail. When filling out the form I was asked if I would like all mail redirected, or just mail addressed to me personally; I ticked the box indicating I only wanted personally addressed mail.

Last week I checked my mail and the letter below was the only thing in the box. Obviously they have a fairly broad interpretation of “personally addressed mail”. I laughed all the way home.

It’s been a busy week. But I’ll write about that later. This entry is about the loss of a man who I’ve never met; I didn’t want him to be buried in a postscript to a larger post so I will postpone stories of my week until tomorrow.

A dear friend lost someone very close to her in a particularly cruel way. I never met him, but the fondness with which she spoke of him made me wish I did…In fact, I was looking forward to meeting him should we both be in the same town at the same time. He sounded such a warm, vital and generous man. I haven’t had a chance to talk to my dear friend, whether online or on the phone, due to our busy schedules and the acute lack of internet here. But I know that you know I’m thinking of you–constantly–and wishing there was something more practical I could do for you.

The words “he’s in a better place” sound so hollow at this juncture…

…and unto dust thou shalt return.

I had a moment of clarity the other night. An epiphany you might say. I was catching up on my blog reading, something which incidentally I am very behind in, when I read this post over on Kate and Lance’s blog. She discussed her brother, who died from aggressive stomach cancer. Due to smoking.

Kate and I have shared a great deal of ourselves with each other over the course of our relationship, but to my recollection (which admittedly isn’t as sharp as some), we’ve never discussed her brother and his sudden, painful death. I have thought of him often, but I never felt I could bring up the subject with my nicotine-stained fingers doing the typing or my nicotine-stained lips doing the talking. Anyway I read that post and realised just how quickly it happened for him, diagnosis and death within months, and I was struck with the thought: “I don’t want to die”. No amount of disgusting warning images or television ads have ever effected me like this.

So I’ve decided to give up smoking. Again. At least for lent, but we’ll see how I go.

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, the first day of lent, so it’s perfect timing really. A few weeks ago, I was toying with the idea of giving up smoking for lent, or at the very least cutting down, but it was never a permanent move. Let’s see how long it lasts this time.

The problem is I actually quite like smoking. I’m also petrified of dying. Hopefully the latter wins out.

There’s a few bits and pieces that I’ve mentioned on here that I haven’t since addressed, so here I go.

The phone is back in working order, after drying out and being disinfected. Thankfully I don’t have to get a new one, unlike last time.

I’m not in el guapo’s class for linguistics; I’m pretty pissed off about that.

And then there’s Sister and the whole coming out bizzo. But that deserves its own post.

Goal #3: To make more art. Lately I haven’t done much painting beyond presents; I haven’t made anything for myself. I want to make some more artworks that are just for me. I’m actually 1/4 through making a self portrait using the photos on my blog profile. Once I get it going again I’ll post some photos of the work in progress.

Goal #4: As Lou said, find out what the K in K-mart is. That has bothered me for a while now.

I’m going away with Lala, Cal and Tia in half an hour to the north coast for a long weekend away, so I’ll write more when I get there; so much has been happening!

The photos accompanying the next few posts are courtesy of Lala, who spent the other night downloading pictures of guys I like so that I can use them in the blog. What a gal huh?

I’ve been meaning to write this post all day but life got in the way. A good friend of mine, one whom I’ve only known a short time, will undergo surgery tomorrow to have a tumour removed from his brain. It is, thankfully, benign but still inconveniently positioned. We’re chatting now as I write and he told me about three shoutouts he got today. I just hope he knows that I’m not doing this because others have.

It’s hot today and I’m sweating profusely and I’m really not in the literary mood, so I’ll leave it at this humble statement:

“I’m thinking of you and praying for you mate. Stay strong and I’ll talk to you next week.”