the closet

Time is on the table and the dinner’s cold

Earlier this year when #1 and I heard that Crowded House were reforming for a concert tour we decided that we’d risk the dreaded ‘old band getting back together and they might not be as good’ syndrome that seems to be taking over the world and go see them anyway. I’m glad we did – yes it was a throwback to better times but it was also sincerely a magical night. Back in 1996 when CH had their farewell concert in Sydney, #1 and I conspired to go but since I had no car (or license for that matter) and there was no way in hell her beat up car would make it up the Hume Hwy – we had to miss out. Flying up was a no go, with both of us struggling with weekend jobs and a poor uni lifestyle. I sat on my living room couch and cried while watching it televised on the tele instead.

Years later when drummer Paul Hester tragically took his own life I had the same reaction. He was my favourite member – purely for the quirky humour he carried with him, in a public sense if not anywhere else. I remember being very young (about 9 or 10) and just adoring him. It’s always the funny guys that get me where it counts. It broke my heart when he died. It still breaks my heart. I suspect that there may be a few differing opinions on this – and maybe some stories to the contrary (I don’t want to know if there are) but all the good ones seem to go early.

So last week, leaving the bub behind #1 and I made our way through a perfect spring evening, no clouds hanging over the domain; yes only one season to contend with – and had a few emotional heart strings tugged by an otherwise forgotten favourite band. Who knew they could still do that? We were also serenaded by a drunk guy sitting in front of us but that’s another story (I love freaks).

I think Crowded House will always hit an emotional chord with me. I remember feeling so excited by the song Sister Madly, which caused me to bounce around joyously from lounge chair pillow to pillow as a little one. I thought they were singing about me; after all I was a sister and sometimes I did step on bro’s head, just like the lyrics mentioned. Not long after, I remember watching the video clip for one of their better known songs Better be Home Soon one morning on Video Hits and feeling the tears fall down my face. I still don’t know why that happened but I remember it clearly, as if it was yesterday. One second I was watching the television and feeling normal and the next I was ambushed by a state of desperate sadness – the song was so true of things I didn’t even know about yet – which sounds weird I know, but I understood the song on an emotional level even though I hadn’t experienced that kind of longing Finn sang about yet. I remember arguing over the correct lyrics to Don’t Dream it’s Over on the phone with #1 (obviously this was before the internet and thus all the information we could ever want at our fingertips was in every household) and laughing like a maniac at the song Chocolate Cake – which I can’t stand now but loved the ridiculousness of back then.

Nowadays it’s these two songs that do not fail to give me goosebumps.

Four Seasons in One Day, for its sublime Melbourne references that you only understand if you live here and now forever Paul Hester’s tribute (the Melbourne boy). For the little lump that catches in my throat every time I hear it and the gorgeous imagery in my head.

Four Seasons in One Day – Crowded House

Private Universe, which always starts with a tingle at the back of my neck, floating down my shoulders and finally settling in the pit of my stomach. This one, is really my song. I just get it.

Private Universe – Crowded House

It’s funny how that works – when songs mean something to one person only and no matter how hard you try to make someone else feel the significance as deeply as you do, they can’t because they simply aren’t you.

headache

As you may know, next year I’m going back to the classroom and today was my first real taste of how life is going to be post art teaching. I’ve decided that life is going to be hard, real hard. I feel like I’ve been run over with a steam roller driven by a bunch of 5 year olds no less.

You see the kindergarten children come to school in the last few weeks of this year to meet the teachers and have a go at being at school just like the big kids – before ‘real school’ next year. So this afternoon found me nervously facing a bunch of the littlest children and trying to sing a song with them while their parents scrutinized my every move. Next week I’ve decided that no parents will be allowed in the room. I don’t quite know how I am going to achieve that but it must be done somehow.

Those particular parents that just HAD to stay, all insisted that their child had adjustment issues. You know what I say? Your child has adjustment issues because you won’t bloody leave them alone. They’re 5 – if you let them be themselves for a second they’ll adjust. Yeah it will be tears for a bit but for christssake kids cry, get over it (though I have to make a point and say that none of these kids were crying at all). Yes, sure there are children with “special needs” – this is different but there are some parents who just wouldn’t go, they just stood in the corner glaring at their child, or worse yet – would prompt them for everything. They’d prompt them about writing. They’d prompt them about how to build with the blocks. They’d prompt them on how to sit. When I say “hey Thingo, here’s a piece of paper can you write down all the words you know for me?” you telling your child what to write defeats the whole purpose of me observing their behaviour. If they don’t know what words are then I want to know that they don’t know what words are. There is no right or wrong here it’s just establishing where the children are so that we can group them to their best needs next year. It’s not going to count for their university entrance rank! Furthermore I’d like to see how your child interacts with other children. You are the centre of their lives, if you’re in the room then they will not want to interact with others, they will just go straight to you. UGH.

Anyway, I drew a diagram to help you understand how the afternoon went. If it looks messy on paper, think about how my brain feels right about now (and multiply by three).

The whole nation stops for this.

* #1 has shocked the hell out of me by proclaiming that she is going to start a dreaded parent blog. You know the ones I mean. She knows someone who makes double my salary from professional blogging. Firstly, he’s a lucky bastard – I hate him already. Secondly, what the hell? I don’t know if I’m too comfortable sharing the internets with people I know in rl. What do you think? Do your closest friends read your blog? Would you write differently if they didn’t (or did, for that matter)?

* I never thought I’d be one those people who says this but ….my allergies are playing up. This morning I sneezed 8 times in a row. IN A ROW! EIGHT! Let me tell you something… it felt nuthin’ like an orgasm. I don’t care what anyone says. It was agony. By the end I was just slumped over begging for mercy. I have no idea what has sparked my allergies this morning. Hell, I don’t even know if I HAVE allergies. How do you find out anyway? Is there some sort of home testing I can do to find out? God knows I’m not going to the doctor. Why? I already know what they’ll say – “let’s prick a million needles in you *test results in* okay I suggest you avoid pollen, grass and dust. That’d be 150 dollars” OR “let’s prick a million needles in you *test results in* okay I suggest we do a desensitisation of those things you’re allergic to. It’s going to cost a shit load of money you don’t have and might not work. Okie dokie? *two years later* I suggest you avoid pollen, grass and dust. That’ll be $2000 thanks. buh bye”. Yeah, thanks for nothing you old quack – give me a solution I can live with. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I wish I had my own prescription pad. It’d save me a hell of a lot of time and energy.

Is it wrong that I’ve played out this whole scenario in my head before it’s actually happened?

* Meeting up with some long lost relatives on the weekend was mighty interesting. My cousins now have a little child who is turning 7. It’s all great except that in my conversations with her I picked up something was wrong with her. I know that sometimes teachers can jump to the wrong conclusions – but I also know that I’m rarely wrong when it comes to picking up on children that might have special issues. This kid has issues. I can’t follow a conversation with her at all. She’s very manic and she makes no sense. I really mean no sense. The parents were very cagey about answering any questions about her but it turns out that although she’s almost 7 she’s never been to school. She’s also not being home schooled. Her mother doesn’t believe children should be sent to school before 7 because that’s apparently how the euros do it.

I’ve read a good many studies that support sending children to school later and I don’t have a problem with that happening. In fact I’ve worked with children that have been sent to school TOO early and you know, it’s hell. It’s hell for the teacher and it’s certainly traumatic for the child. HOWEVER, for fucks sake, if you are living in a country where the kids start school between 5 and 6 then dammit, THAT’S when you send your child to school. Can you imagine starting a prep class being two years older than your peers? At that age, 2 years is a huge difference and you are asking for social problems. Furthermore, the school will initially decide that the child should be in an age appropriate class (fair enough) but then that child will have NO IDEA what is happening because she won’t have the basics down.

I’m all in a tizz about this because
1) this girl should be in school
2) I have a feeling that when she goes to school there are going to be other special needs problems to deal with ON TOP of being academically behind.

sigh.

* It’s the Melbourne Cup today! For the uninitiated this means that Melbournians get a whole day off work to celebrate a horse race. I am not complaining. In fact let’s celebrate! I wish we got the whole week. I’ve got money on so many horses that I’m sure to go broke even if I win. Awesome, all in the spirit of the holiday I say.

Do you gamble? Do you bet a lot or a little? Do you put all your money on one horse to win? One horse to win and place? Many horses? Or are you really serious about it?

*EDIT* I’ve become rather pathetically addicted to playing pacman lately. Unfortunately I am crap at it. I have no idea how that happened – especially since I thought I was hot shit at it but anyway… Click on this link to go play pacman online and then come back here and tell me if you’re good at it or not. Is there a secret pacman strategy or am I doomed to FINALLY make it past level 1 with only one life left and then get done in the first 10 seconds by that bloody inkey forever?

my moon and me

Toward the end of the week..
Photography class – assignment in.
Dinner with the girls.
..no babies.
Had a financial discussion.
Had an imaginary discussion with the bottom of a glass of red.
They might have been related..
Watched city people wander the streets
Fashionable ladies tapping a merry tune in high heels
the bald man talking to himself
a crazy predicting doom around the corner
and a girl in comfy looking flats and long raven wavy hair that billowed out behind her like a superhero cape.
Ate a lovely dinner
…in a restaurant that looked like the pits – but wasn’t.
Saw a house I liked. Saw another house I liked.
Both had major issues.
Maybe I have major issues.
made the perfect batch of scrambled eggs.
Sang along loudly with the radio.
The toast burnt during my crescendo
..it was worth singing the song properly though.
Saw a movie, the whole cinema clapped the ending.
That never happens in Melbourne!
Another dinner – the restaurant looked nicer.
..the food wasn’t as good.
looks can be deceiving.
Met family members I hadn’t seen in 11 years.
I made them laugh with my stories of woe.
My life isn’t so funny when I’m in a room alone, I have to admit.
Met a strange little girl who told me she was going to be a ballerina
…or just magic.
she hadn’t decided yet.
She reminded me of me when I was that age.
I felt a bit like I should warn her
…that fairy dreams are fun until they come crashing down
but I didn’t.
Made the perfect pizza from scratch
ate some.
Heard a song.
Love at first listen.
Isn’t it great when that happens?

My Moon, My Man – Feist