Teretz Syndrome

Friday, August 1, 2003. 12:53PM

The other day Ed came around and we played pool for a while, and he mentioned to me that as soon as he read the line in the last log claiming that this log would be up in a couple of days, he knew it would take at least a week. Well, Ed was right. I'm sorry. I dunno what happened. I didn't seem to have the time, although, in reality, I had plenty of time, but it always seemed like a better idea to do something else rather than log. In truth, it's my father's fault, because the Thursday after the last one, the day I was originally planing to write it, he stayed home from work and was on the computer all day, and although could have written it on another machine, I never have, and damned if I'm going to start now.

Now, I believe that the last time we spoke, I was talking about a few weeks ago, some time around June 26. On June 27 I have written "Cat Empire", which I understand is a psychedelic jazz experience and was at the Night Cat (a bar in Carlton) every Friday in June. I was going to go, and I met the people I was going to go with as planed, only to learn that two weren't coming, and another two didn't want to come (the J Man and his woman, E Girl). That only left me and Claire. Now, as the J Man was leaving to go the place he'd rather be than Cat Empire, he looked at the two of us and said using the slyest look I've ever seen (which I now know was because he was inviting me to spend time with a bunch of people I don't like) "Now, you know, if you like, we'll be back at my place later on, if you two want to... swing by." Now, given the sly expression, I think I was fully justified in assuming that he was propositioning me and my girl for some kind of foursome, so I smiled like a mother fucker, and replied "Well, I mean, buddy, I'm totally up for it, but I don't think me and Claire are quite up to that level yet...", at which point he realised what I was thinking and nearly died (he may have hit me - I can't remember). Anyway, seemed like no point in Cat Empire with only two of us, so we went drinking. I remember that I walked home in the rain.

That Sunday, I've scrawled "Dave's Futurama - 8:30" onto the calendar. Now, in theory, what this was was a bunch of us going to Dave's and watching the first three series of the now axed animated classic, Futurama. However, as it eventuated, I went there at seven, with the object of playing some Risk before the main Futurama event. Dave's house is walking distance from my place, but really, it's not close. I dunno - two, maybe three kilometres. I remember it was raining like fuck, and I was drenched by the time I got there. Anyway, by the time Risk got started, it was about nine, and we were still setting up when the womenfolk (who were excluded from Risk for obvious reasons) arrived. Anyway, we played Risk, and had beaten out two of the five players (we had Dave back to one island, but Andrew showed mercy, and Dave built up his forces for a few turns and came back). The J Man had been eliminated (quenching my thirst for vengeance over the Monopoly debacle), and the game didn't look like going anywhere fast, so in the end us three remaining players agreed to a tie, and settled back to watch Futurama (it was now about twelve thirty - the eliminated players and women folk had been watching for a while). About two, me and Andrew walked home. Got soaked again.

The next day, I took my girl out for dinner. I don't remember much about that either, except that I walked home around five AM, and got soaked again. Every time I walk home for Claire's, I walk past the Melbourne uni collages, and there is one room who's light I have never seen out. I only ever walk past there after the trains have stopped, so this guy must be up every night from about 12:30, to well into the morning (conversely, I'd catch the trains if they'd started again, but I don't think I've ever been past later than 5:30). About noon the next day, my sister woke me up with the news that I had a phone call. It was Jonathan, and he informed my that a bunch of cats were coming to my house that night. I don't remember much about that either, except that we drank a lot of small amounts of left over spirits (we had cocktails, pretty much, but only a glass or so of each) and played Cludo. I won Cludo at an insanely early point by hitting on the right combination through pure luck. I wonder what is with this board game resurgence. I quite like it. There are many subtle nuances of board games you just don't get as a small child. I guess everyone went home a little toasted about 3:00am, and I went to bed.

That Thursday I've written three things. "Hong Kong Movies," "Rhonda's Party," and "Sick." Yes, it's true. This was looking to be a good night. Every month, on the first Thursday of said month, as I'm sure I've mentioned many times (probably one in four logs, in fact), I go to the Chinatown and enjoy a classic Hong Kong double. This month, however, I wasn't going to go, as a bunch of people who I really do like, and don't see nearly enough of any more were having a party. I was looking to be a cracker. Alas, however, neither thing came to pass, as I was sick. Yes, all those late nights and walking around in the rain had caught up with me, and although I wasn't hardcore sick, I didn't want to jeopardise my plans the next night (which I had already paid for) by exaggerating the sickness. My plans the next day, you say? Yes, that's right, the next day I was going to the Final Blues Brother's Ever.

Again, I'm sure I've mentioned this before, in fact, I have, in both the last two logs. In fact, I just reviewed the last two logs, and realised that I have described the same event (going to the second last Blues Brothers) twice. Well, anyway, the last Blues Brother's was much better than the second last. You see, every year they have a birthday show, with pyrotechnics and a band, and they sell the old music hall out, and all the old Blues Brothers from years gone by come back, and it really is so very much better, and this was better than all of those. It was wild. The band was "Mr. Toad's Wild Ride," which I think I have heard of. Their lead singer described them as "the worlds greatest party band," and although I think that it was pretty arrogant to say that, they were pretty fucking good. If I ever could be bothered to convince the Westgarth to hold an Annual Pulp Fiction Party-o-Rama, and show the film, and have a band, I'd seriously consider Mr. Toad's Wild Ride (although, really, they need a few less horns and a few more guitars before they can capture the intense surf feel of the Pulp Fiction soundtrack). And yeah, anyway, great night out. But that don't matter, because it's over, you can't go anymore. You've missed your last opportunity (although, I suspect that it'll be back in a year or so).

That Sunday (6th July), I went to my Grandparents (my mother's side - the other ones). We had dinner. It was very strange. I caught the train in, and for a while I was there alone in a room with just the two of them. I don't think that's ever happened before. My grandmother called my Aunt to make sure she was coming, and my grandfather said to me "You can never tell when it's a women. Have you had much experience of women?" Somewhat stunned, I laughed and replied "Enough to know they're evil." My Aunt and Uncle drove me and my sister home, and I chuckled inside when my Aunt, who my mother thinks is an idiot (sibling rivalry) changed my Uncle's smooth cruising jazz CD to Gold 104.

The next day seemed alright at the time, but in reality, it was a really bad day. I don't usually have bad days. Ever. I'm a pretty happy go lucky guy. Not much gets to me, but this was a really bad day. I met Claire at 4:00 and we hung around for a while. I don't know. We probably had coffee or something. We ended up in a park, which everyone knows is where you go to neck, but did we neck? Well, yes, a little, but not much. The majority of the time was spent having a 'discussion.' Our first 'discussion.' I guess I knew that a 'discussion' was inevitable eventually, but I wasn't expecting it, and it wasn't pleasant. And so, it was a somewhat deflated me who went off around 6:30 to meet a girl I haven't really spoken to for three years. A girl who was in possession of something that means something on my wall of life achievements - the first heart I ever broke. We had dinner, and coffee, and cake, and a few other things, and for a while we yakked about bullshit - people we knew, television, and so on. Eventually, however, we got onto the important business - she demanded the explanation I hadn't wanted to give her all those years ago. I'd forgotten it, but I made something up, and we talked for a few hours about depressing crap like that. Anyway, I got home a bit after midnight, and I went on the internet to check my results. What news, computer? Networks and Operating System's? Distinction. Commercial Law? Credit. System's Analysis and Design 1? Credit. Organisational Behaviour, the most pointless, stupid, and utterly bullshit subject ever? Fail. Fuck. What a motherfucker of a day.

I feel depressed just recalling that. Got a week to go. Food break.

Some time later...

The next day I went to see Hulk with Marcus. T'was all right. Had worse. I'm just waiting for the time in a few years, when they get past all these origin stories and start having all the messed up comic books - Batman verses Alien verses Spawn and whatnot.

I went out with Claire that Wednesday. I dunno what I did. Probably went drinking or something. Maybe dinner. I don't recall. The day after I had a bunch of my old budskis over, and we messed around all night. Drank too much coke and didn't sleep. It was good fun though. I was dead the day after.

That Saturday I went to a party. It was not a party I would normally have been invited too. It was a party for my woman's friends - not our mutual friends, but her specific friends. People I don't know. Now, Claire is a few years younger than me - two in fact, so while I'm in second year university, she is still doing her last year of school. Now the school she goes to is my old alma marta, the school where I spent the first two years of my secondary education, before moving on to the greener pastures of Melbourne High (in actual fact, the pastures of Melbourne High were less green, but at a considerably higher point above sea level). She goes to the school my sister went to. Now, I've been aware in the past that a few of her friends are the younger siblings of my old school friends, and as she discussing this party with me, it reveals itself to be the party of Mae Vincent. Mae is the younger sister of Louis Vincent, who was my buddy once, and I haven't talked to in a long time. I am apprehensive, but I agree to come. The party is in Mount Waverly. Fucking Mount Waverly. Now, I have an occasionally spoken rule that goes something like this: "Never go more than ten kilometres from ones house if one intends to come home for the evening." It's a good rule, and it's served me well, as ten kilometres is just about the furthest I am prepared to walk in an evening, and, it's not an unaffordable distance for a taxi. Mount Waverly is a fuck of a lot more than ten kilometres away from my house. In fact, remember last week when I was talking about going to Warwick Firearms? Well, it's two stops further along the line than that is. Anyway, we hook up with these two clowns on the train, who get us pretty lost walking around Mount Waverly. Finally we get there. As soon as we walk in the door, I spy these two cats with long hair and suits (although my hair is short now, I still have long hair at heart), and I think "yeah, those are the cats I'm going to bond with." For a while I get trawled around meeting her friends, and they all ask me questions I don't want to answer (true to form, they reveal themselves to be my friends younger siblings). At the first opportunity I slip away to the bar to grab myself a beer (I may not have mentioned the main reason I'm here (aside from being pussy whipped), free grog), and who should be tending the bar at his little sister's birthday, then Louis Vincent himself. We try to have a conversation for a while, but people keep asking for drinks, and really we haven't spoken in six years and have nothing to say to each other. So there I am, stuck in the middle, with neither Claire, nor Louis. "Think", I think. "You're a charming, intelligent young man - bond with someone." Now usually, at this juncture, I'd move in on some fly honey, but given the company, I decide that maybe that idea is not such a good one. So what do I do? Simple, I find the dudes in the suits. I manage to ease myself into a conversation, and the main suit dude looks at my suit, and says "What are you supposed to be?" "Well dressed," I reply, and look at his suit. "What are you supposed to be?" "I'm just a pretty man," he shoots back. "Damn," I think, "I'm going to steal that line." Anyway, we bond quite well. Seems like a top bloke. We have a few drinks, and decide to try and find out how many helium balloons one has to attach to an empty beer can before it will float upwards (eight). This goes on for a while, and eventually, I decide that I really should go and see how Claire is. I find her after some looking, and we decide to take the last train home. I tell her that we really do have to go right now, but she insists on saying goodbye to a whole pile of people. We eventually make it out of there, but, true to form, we miss the train. She doesn't want to go back to the party, and I don't really want to pay the princes ransom a taxi from Mount Waverly will no doubt cost, so we're walking for a few hours then getting a taxi (a dumb idea), when a bunch of people we don't know from the party rock up. We tell them they've missed the last train, and eventually we decide to split a maxi-cab. We get as far as South Yarra (as far as Melbourne High, in fact), before the taxi driver says he's not going any further. Me and Claire walk to the city, have some coffee in this cafe, and eventually get a taxi home (I would have walked, but Claire insisted that she was wrecked, and proved her point by falling asleep on me in the short ass cab ride to her place). I don't remember what time I got home.

And so that's it kids. Two days later (well, really one as that last adventure ended well after midnight) uni started, and a few days after that, my parents came home.

The next log I do I think will be a live log, where I sit here on MSN, looking at porn for a few hours and describe the thoughts that looking at pictures of Christina Ricci's nipples invokes in me.


(a whisker shy of 3,000 words)


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