TV Cabbage: March 2006

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

1997 part 27 - ‘doing a Pam’

And Sue.
Yes “and Sue”. Sue is one year older than me: she’s 37 or 38 but she ain’t your average late 30’s woman heading inexorably into middle age. Oh no. she’s Conrad's long term partner and full on party person. I think they’ve been with each other about 8 years and like all long term couples I know they have their particular, er, ways of getting along. Unlike Nick and I, or Dee and Scotty or Chris and Terry or John and Pam or Wendy and Stuart or any of the couples together over, say, 8 years, they have their own particular way of keeping it together. I say unlike J&P but in a way they are a bit like them. They stay together and live together and travel together but fuck other people behind each others back and don’t tell the other partner what they get up to. Which is fine if that’s what they both want to do because, you know, all this ‘consenting adult’ stuff only works if both parties are, er, party to the agreement. But where the complications come in is in the scenario of ‘who do you fuck?’

Chris and Terry’s set up is different. C is manic, not a little psychotic, paranoid, insecure, unconfident and it’s a real crying shame but I see him day on day and each time he’s fallen apart just a little bit more. He loves his Terry and I really cry real tears of identification when I see her treat him like she does.

Sometimes he looks older than his 40 odd years as his frantic, increasingly agitated efforts to hold on to her love and respect fall away like petals on a dead flower. One by one. Fear. Hate. Loathing. Lonliness. Bitterness. Despondency. Then it’s gone. But not yet! He’s still in there despite his narcolepsy and his fear.

I totally identify with what’s happening to him and I don’t want Nick and I to become Chris and Terry. That would be awful. The complication arises because Conrad is fucking Terry and I feel responsible. Or Terry is Conrad.

In this weird world of deep house the various groups of us around the country (and world) are small and we’re all getting to know each other better. We all travel around playing and visiting each other, forming ties, loyalties and relationships. And it was me who brought the Rogue Sound System down from Lincoln and introduced them to tVC in Kent. Terry. Conrad. They meet and BAM!

Down the Woodpecker on Monday they were like two dogs on heat, man. Fuck. The night before T was giving it some hot moves on all the men back at Rosie’s after we were down the East Kent. She was, with me anyway, doing ‘A Pam’ as I call it. She had on real tight thin material trousers and, you know that crack between the two bum cheeks, well she’d be standing in front of me gently moving up and down on my penis through my trousers. Fine, till an erection began to appear then that fits, yowsa, right in that crack so well. As soon as she felt my erection growing it would be like flicking a switch on in her head and she’d start purring and slinking her body so smoothly… then she’d laugh and her upper body would move forward and her bum would go back and press right hard and then… you know, ‘doing a Pam’.

I'm thinking ‘I’ve got to get out of here. This is too much.’ For Christ's sake both Conrad and Chris are here giving me the hot eye and daggers in the back syndrome. I fuck off upstairs but am dragged in the bathroom where Terry, Rosie, Sara, Emily, Shelly are; it seems all the women. There’s me leaning on the sink and Terry sinks into my groin again like a car reversing smoothly into its parking space. Sasha gets into the bath with the other 4 women but we leave the door unlocked and start to throw wet toilet paper around. It sticks to the walls and ceiling with a resounding resolute splat and we all giggle loudly and are all having top fun of a sort. A piece of wet paper is thrown just as the door opens and Si Stonehouse appears. It hits him right between the eyes and just sticks there! We finish the vodka off and Sara asks ‘where’s the champagne?’

So, there’s me saying I totally identify with Chris and there I am frottaging with Terry! What a hypocrite. Then so is Nicky; fucking snogging with the Catalyst and that’s all she’s admitted to me. What else did they get up to? Leaving parties for hours, going ‘to the pub’, ‘popping’ back to my house to pick up stuff etc. She’s only admitted one snog and I went berserk so she ain’t going to tell me anymore is she? One snog nearly split us up for Christ's sake.

So anyway, after Terry and Conrad get it together at Bysing Wood last spring they had to wait a whole year. Chris was keeping a tight eye on her but she somehow managed to fuck of with Conrad who approached me in the marquee and said they’d fucked four times that day and I said to him ‘don’t you come back later and tell me five’. Not that I approved or anything.

Half an hour later he’s back and as he walks towards me he’s holding his hand up with all five fingers spread wide and a fuck off grin on his face and all I can say is ‘faark off’ and burst out laughing. I’d told Terry ‘you know, what you’re doing is OK but you must finish with Chris first because it’s fucking him up.’ But all she says is ‘don’t tell him please’ and
I’m caught up in her conspiracy and feel like a total and utter hypocritical idiot because if Nick ever did that to me I don’t know what I’d do.

Monday, March 27, 2006

Not her usual offering of one cheek.

I’m just about into my 3rd tune on the decks at Stuart’s 40th Birthday party when Tort taps me in the small of my back. She’s very sparkly and perky for some reason. Eyes wide and gaze attentive. Her usual ‘I can’t be fucked with anything’ persona not at all in evidence. Reminds me of the time when she used to like me. ‘Hiya’, she says. Emphasising the ‘iiiii’ and the ‘aaaaa’ portion of it. At least that is still normal. Her large, crossed front teeth, beaming out at me. She gives me a great big, strong, hug that lasts just a little bit too long for comfort and a kisses me on the lips. Not her usual offering of one cheek. Immediately I’m wary, or curious as to why she has suddenly decided to go out of her way and talk to me. I feel something is wrong. That she is not happy somehow. ‘Oh, I do love that shirt’, she says of my new vertical stripy brown shirt especially purchased to enhance my new ‘oh, me. I’ve moved on now’ persona. Purchased especially for her really. Purchased to elicit exactly this comment from her. I’m pleased she has reacted exactly as I thought she would. A good start I thought.

‘I’m off now’, she says. It’s 10.30pm. The night is just beginning. ‘Oh, it’s last bus and all that. Must leave now to catch it’. I hold back offering her a lift with great difficulty. She’s not my girlfriend any more and I must withdraw some concern away her. Well, all concern really. That desire to please and to read her body language and the general requirement to be tuned into her needs and desires. Jay, her new boyfriend, doesn't have a car and I suspect is only tuned into one of her desires. Probably isn't but, hell, if I want to think that then that's OK becasue and I'm only thinking it and it's not real. He has got a car now I'm thinking about, it but that would ruin the scenario.

She doesn't drive if she knows she may drink. ‘Oh, stay’ I say. Genuinely meaning it. ‘I’ve cracked open a bottle of nice wine (just spent £15 quid on it, but didn’t tell her that) and I’ve just started my set…’ I begin. ‘No, I got to go…’ she interrupts. I explain, for some reason to perhaps cover that fact that I'm upset she's going but, hell, I know loads of people who want to spend ,ooh, absolutely loads of time with me, even if she doesn't. I tell he I’ve just been down to see Sophie and Bruce, because it’s her 35th birthday tonight, at The Continental and that Katrina and Clare will be coming along later. Sounds shit; and is, and she isn't buying it. She has made her mind up. Going off with Mr Temper, Mr Choker, Mr Punchy. Mr He’ll Have No Head If He Touches Her. Him. Yeah. Most of her friends and acquaintances are fairly perturbed, to say the least, of her choice of fuck buddy here. I find him socially and emotionally bereft of any depth whatsoever and he’s as shallow as fuck. I would though. But then again I find her the same way. Maybe they deserve each other? ‘OK then, bye. Look after yourself.’ She goes but I only dream of Katrina, her designated substitute this week, and think back to our last encounter; The Continental Hotel, Whitstable just one hour previously…

I must say she really is a stunning looking woman. My breathing goes all shallow and I must pull my face away otherwise I end up staring. She makes me feel uncomfortable and awkward whenever I’m in her presence and I’m acutely conscious of choosing what I say very carefully and not saying anything that may make her dislike me. I end up laughing too loud at her jokes and asking loads of stupid questions that I already know the answer to. I avoid eye contact but stare when she looks away. I steal lascivious glances at her slim, almost too perfect figure and swallow hard. All the time I affect an air of nonchalance and non committal. Don’t want to scare the girl off. My deep rooted lack of self esteem compounds the support arguments from the devil on my shoulder that constantly tells me I’m not good enough for her or good looking enough for her or what the fuck would she see in you you useless fucker. So don’t even bother trying let alone thinking that she may be interested in you at all. You loser. Luckily a profuse affectation of drink and drugs can silence this voice. Look forward to taking the chemical equivalent of this when I’m sectioned sometime in the future.

This all stems back to my childhood and the fact I had half a dozen ‘mums’ throughout that time but none of them were my real one. She abandoned me and my brother to marry Mr Great Britain 1964. My relationship with women has been a difficult one over the years. Trying to reconcile the fact I didn’t have any real love or mothering with the fact that I’m a man and am sexually attracted to them too. This dichotomy tugs and pulls at me internally and I get confused by signals from women. One thing I hate that Sarah does is when we’re cuddling on the sofa and she goes ‘come her’ and extends her arms wide and beckons me into her ‘bosom’ (as she calls it), ‘come lie on me and let me give you a big hug.’ This really rattles me as it links my sexual yearnings with my yearnings to have love from my mother. Also linking it to that oedipal desire to both be fucked and mothered by the same woman. My god, do I baulk at that. Sarah gets confused as I can’t really explain the feeling it produces in me. I also have this virtually overwhelming desire to control my actions, surroundings and the people I know. I also work hard towards the opposite of this and to let the people I know have complete freedom to do whatever they want without any interference of influence from me. Another dichotomy. Oh, enough of that. I’m heading to a place there I don’t want to go to yet. Back to the party…

So, Tort goes. Another twinge in my heart; another knock back. I play my set. £110 worth of carefully selected and bought tunes. Tunes that I love. Tunes that I bought and played with love and skill and experience. Something I put my heart and soul into. Something I believe in so fully it hurts me inside to play them to no body. No one is at the fucking party yet but, in a way, I’m glad to get it out of the way. Warren is lined up to play afterwards and his set of guaranteed floor filler oldies that he’s been caning around the scene for 15 years gets some of the early arrivals in the room and on the dance floor. I head off into the darkness to face whatever life has decided to confront me with.

In my head I’m at The Continental reliving my conversations with Katrina. Dare I even think that she might like me? Should I ask her out on a date? Is that what she is waiting for? God, I hate rejection so much that I feel that I can’t even ask her at the moment. I don’t even have her number. I know she was fucked about by her last boyfriend who I think was fucking around behind her back. Maybe she isn’t ready for someone to be asking her out? We talk awkwardly about anything, trivial things. At some point, I’m talking to birthday girl Sophie, she comes over and joins us to give Sophie her present; a beautiful, small sculpture of intertwined pink people. She stays and we talk some more. I feel embarrassed like a teen being talked to by a girl for the first time. I think I fuck it up but Katrina, despite her confidant demeanour, seems to be exhibiting the same emotions of awkwardness towards me that I am towards her. We giggle. When we have eye contact red flushes flame across our faces. I know she notices this. I take this to mean that she likes me. As I head upstairs at Stuart’s party to check out who is here I have this thought in my mind and look forward to seeing her later. If she comes that is? I know there will be a gathering back at Bruce and Sophie's for their close friends. But for how long I don’t know.

Anyway, back at the 40th party I see Bean and Scouse Steve chilling on the sofas and go to join them. I end up talking to Bean for ages. She’s so funny and manic; I recognise myself so much in her that we have this connection where things just flow so easily and she’s so funny too. Oh, I already said that. Met her at a Peg party in London when Scouse brought her up. He really likes her and wants to take things further but she is a bit wary of committing to him, or anybody. She is a child psychologist and I expect her ease at social interaction is related to her profession. Oh, and we both can’t stand Julia Pattison, that gorgon faced harridan who tries to be so horrid to both of us all the time it’s comical! She loves her drugs too, so I rack up a few fat ones and that fuels the conversation for another half an hour of so. By the time I come out of Beanland the party is rammed so I decide to explore some more. Just as I get up I spot Katrina and bee-line over to see how she is. I make a bit of fuss of her but the convo is a bit stilted. Probably because I’m drugged up a bit and on a different wavelength. By the time I look for her later she is gone. I hang around till 8.30am; mainly avoiding drinking but hanging out with Rosie who is very friendly towards me, which is nice.

Monday morning I have a 9am meeting with GG, my big boss. I’m late. He ‘tells me off’ for not doing my paperwork properly and makes me promise to have it all done by this Friday, the end of term. I now sit in my Carrel in the University Library waiting to give my students study skills tutorials they don’t need in a job I hate with a boss I can’t stand, and who is shit in bed. No not GG; Julia. Oh, fuck it. I’m off for lunch. It’s midday after all…

Monday, March 20, 2006

our uninspiring “let’s be mates” walk

Been worried about how I might react to Tort and Jay suddenly coming along to everything as a new couple. Smug fuckers. Though it would cut me up and leave me anxious but things didn’t work our too bad actually.

I was beginning to think that T was a bit of a selfish predator; cherry picking the men from our group (get me ey!); unaware or objective about whom she hurt along the way. Even when I was fucking her she only cared about her own pleasure I thought. She was quite highly sexed but strangely unconcerned about my pleasure. She seemed a little detached I thought. But then again we were both out of 17 year relationships where the sex had frankly been a bit pants. Her partner was fucking her friend behind her back anyway and mine was fucking the local pikey twat. (What? Doesn’t every group of friends have one? Darling! You must!). So I guess we were relearning how to be intimate again. Feel a bit miffed that I was in a way a practice for the real thing but now she got her wings as it were I thought the pain of seeing her fly again would be too excruciating to bare. Guess what? It wasn’t. I really don’t give monkeys. I hope they have a great time together. They deserve each other. Jay ain’t the smartest knife in the box so maybe he needs to be dominated by women who are smarter than he is in order to feel in control. Ha!

By sheer bad fortune Jay had been booked by me to play The Smack this weekend gone, ooh, months ago. I’d had a few little run ins with him over the years, but nothing serious. He borrowed a maglight from me at a free party. I said please don’t lose it. He lost it. I’d booked him a few times to play gigs with us. He pulled out. We’d asked to borrow some of his kit once or twice; both times he’s said “no”.Not a good start really.

He was having a relationship with a friend of mine, Sara. They split up quite recently. Acrimoniously. Now he’s with my ex. Didn’t really waste any time there. Neither did she. With S he had a ‘bit of a temper on him’. S spoke of hands round throat, shouting tantrums and frosty silences. Once I had to rescue her after J had flipped out in the car. She was in a right state. I thought this guy could be dangerous. Now he’s with my ex.

Anyway, he came down the Smack to play his set on Saturday night. Justin was still milking his birthday ‘week’ and had invited people down to the Neptune for drinks. J and I walk down from the Smack to the Neppy for half an hour or so while MDM played a few tunes. I was going to give him the old ex boyfriend speech about how I hope he looks after her and how he better not try any of his violent ways on her, don’t you know, but I didn’t. Couldn’t? Why should I feel that I can interfere? It’s her choice and if she wants a relationship with a man with violent tendencies then who am I to interfere in any way? I must respect her choice and let her live it through. I may have to pick up a few pieces at the end – who knows how long it will last? - but it has to be played out without any interference from me. At work on Monday Helene tells me that Tort is going around to everyone in The Neptune saying “have you met my new boyfriend?”. Helene says “course I know him but mainly through tai chi classes.” “You’d think,” she say, “that they’d want to keep it quiet for a bit and I know that Jay doesn’t like that sort of thing. He’s just come out of a long term relationship and all that…” Maybe that could be Torts specialist subject: find vulnerable men fresh out of long term relationships and fuck them (up). Mee-ow pussycat. Besides of course everyone knows Jay. We have for years. He certainly needs no introduction to any of the Whitstable lot that’s for sure…

Jay and I continued our uninspiring “let’s be mates” walk to the pub, neither of us saying too much. Once there I bought him a drink and he parted for the other side of the room to see T. I stayed at the bar and chatted to the rather lovely Katrina. She seems more interesting than I originally thought and she went out of her way to chat to me about the film “13” that we both saw at Cinema Three on Monday night. I think I like her but I know she has a bit of history which I’d like to get her talking about one day. In fact I do like her, she’s very good looking, striking, she’s smart too. Why do I feel nervous? Maybe I’m just a little bit scared of her. Who knows? Would like to get to know her more. I do know she’s single…

Couldn’t stay watching the love birds play happy couples much longer so left for the Smack. Played a bit with Mark (oo-er) then made way for Jay, who was late, around 10ish. He tempered his normally banging set and actually played some nice tunes. I spent most of the rest of night getting pissed and flirting with Geordie Tracey, who was also pissed. Ended up driving her around most of the night; first looking for booze from The Fountain, then driving to J&E’s party then taking her home.

We pulled up outside. It was dark. Tracey banged on the door till it opened and disappeared inside. We waited in the car. No Tracey 10 minutes later. I banged on the pub door. Nothing. Then; get this call from her. “I’m home”, she says. Confusion. Hastily we went round Wor Traces. A house full was getting stuck into her booze – which we’d actually got for the other party up J&E’s. Then we smoked and then had coffee. It was 2.30 3am ish by the time we got to The Paps Nightclub. I say nightclub, I actually mean their garden shed. Long and thin there were 20+ people crammed in there. I’d been getting regular updates at Tracey’s from MDM as to the state of play there.
Call 1: well we’re here mate. Just need to clear with Just about getting the decks in the shed. I suggested he say to Just that he can play his tunes first (an hilarious collection of blues, soul, unusual tunes from bygone era’s and rarities).
Call 2: decks are set up. Justin is on playing.
Call 3: Woo-hoo! I’m on in 10 minutes.
Call 4: I’m on. “Ok mate,” I say. “I’ll be along in half an hour”.

Place was rammed. I work my way down to the front and where the decks are. Katrina is there. She’s an artist but not too pissed. I chat to her. I feel awkward and uncomfortable and don’t want to fuck things up by saying the wrong thing so just end up mumbling a few pleasantries and probably end up fucking things up anyway. Sara is there too but we don’t talk about the lovers. I think if we did we’d be making it sound like it was important. Besides Sara has a new job as area co-ordinator of the East Kent Syrenians and will probably be looking forward to her new challenges. Good on her. We both collaborate in our mutual recovery by staying silent.

I wait for my set; texting MDM from the kitchen saying “can I play some tunes please?” After I play I hang out a bit and leave with Tracey who I drop off at hers before the lonely drive home and the sweet smell of the land of zeds.

Sunday afternoon, 7 hours sleep (although I did dream about my ex and her new boyfriend fucking - not nice!) and a great breakfast later I head up the Saps for our usual Sunday afternoon walkwalk. They are still up. Well wankered. Playing with the barbeque, pottering around, listening to music. I stay a bit but am on another vibe. I head for town, ringing Warren up on the way. It’s Jo’s birthday and I go to there’s for a chat and a drink. Scouse and Simes and Anna are there. We talk about this festival in Spain that they’re going to. Glastonbury by the Sea. I read reviews on the net and it’s around 40 degrees during the day. After going home around 10pm I get a call off J&E; “Justin’s playing at the two Brewers! Come along!” I don’t know where they get the stamina from but I politely decline and head for bed ready for another full day up the University of Kent at Canterbury.

Monday, March 13, 2006

I just got up and left the pub when he came in

I just got up and left the pub when he came in. I had to. My feelings of dread were overwhelming me so much and I really didn't want to stay there watching them talk to each other. It wasn't that I don't know him; I do. It wasn't that I don't like him; I do. My decision was based on the fact that I'd got this text message from Tortoise Face the other day, the first one she'd sent me for a while. It said; "Hiya. Got some juicy gossip for you if yr interested. It's about me! :-) xxx" She seemed ever so happy in that little text but I knew it was going to be bad news for me even as I rang her. "Are you sitting down", she said. After a series of, ahem, one night stands over the past year my gorgeous little ginger ex has finally decided to start "dating" again. Someone had asked her out and she'd said yes and they'd gone out for a meal and she likes him and she would definitely date him again if he asked.

I knew that was what was roughly coming but I couldn't believe my own shocked reaction to it. I was absolutely gutted. Like most people who are dumped by someone you like you always hold up hope that one day things will be sorted out and that maybe just maybe that the spark will be reignited and the relationship continued. Hearing that your ex has started dating again finally means that, yes, this is really and truly over and it will never get back to what you wanted and never will.

Get used to it.

Then the other hand came through and I was ever so glad for her that she'd finally found someone she likes a bit. He's going to have his hands full with her but I used to get ever so worried about her being alone and long for her to get over me and her other ex, her husband, and find someone who she likes and who can look out for her and give her lots of nice cuddles.

So when I saw Jay standing at the bar in the packed out, smokey and very noisy Neptune that Sunday afternoon after our lovely walk, I said to the people round my table, Tort, Rosie, Emily and Eric the Fish; "Probably going to home after this pint. Can't drink anymore because I'm driving", I was in effect laying the path straight out of the pub door and straight home and well away from what my imagination envisaged. Jay started over towards us, said "hi", shook my hand, winked (winked!) at me and said "How are ya mate?". "Fine," I said. T's little face lit up. Bless her. I got up with as much dignity as I could muster and made my way out, pushing through the packed boozy crowd, deep breathing, holding back the tears (fears?). Just as I approached the door I got a glimpse of another vision, a medusa, a woman who was once beautiful, but, according to Greek mythology, she offended Athena, who changed her hair into snakes and made her face so hideous that all who looked at her were turned to stone. It adding yet more layers of fear and awkwardness to what was already a seething mass of snaking tentacles in my head. Luckily I'm well practiced at ignoring her mad arse and the sweep past Julia was painless, rather enjoyable and ever so slightly empowering.

God, I'm so angry at that woman, at them women, at both of them. Loving me and giving me so much positive attention then withdrawing it and being cruel to me. Life sucks doesn't it? Well mine does...

Oh, well; I get paid regardless

Got a 30 minute call off MDM this morning. He’s been keeping his head down this weekend. Finishing off work he started for Carol. Painting and plastering. Said he’s been working on his relationship which has been “hanging in tatters”. The guy loves her but finds his dichotomy in doing what she wants him do but compromising on his own life. He rarely stays at his own place, has stopped working on his art work and feels his life is not as respected as his girlfriends. She’s a teacher but works in Dover; travels 2 hours a day as well as her work shift. She’s usual tired when she gets home and is a bit of a stay at home girl whereas MDM likes to get out, have a beer, enjoy and socialise. I really felt for him and we both just whinged on about the vagaries of love and how it’s so hard to pin down and just enjoy. Nearly told him about Jay but just mentioned that T was seeing someone we both know. The irony of the whole thing is is that Jay is DJing with us this Saturday night at the Smack. Tort usually comes along for a drink with me but I hope she doesn’t come along with Jay playing the ‘we’re in love’ game. It would just crack me up. I know they won’t but, hey that’s what this blog is for, to express feelings, scenarios and to just play out ideas that do not necessarily happen.

My students up the uni do their usual thing of not turning up to my tutorials, as fucking usual, or even bother ringing or texting me to let me know they won’t be turning up. I know they have dyslexia but on one of the rare occasions I actually prepare a lesson for them they should bloody well come along and enjoy the effort I’ve put in for them. Oh, well; I get paid regardless.

Going to see 13 at the cinema tonight. Might just be what I need; get out the house and do something. Mainly gripe and whinge but hey, that’s what your friends are for are they not? Got some nice fish to cook beforehand and some haricot beans and salad. Keep eating healthy. Keep thinking…

Sunday, March 12, 2006

Still better something than nothing at all ey?

So, anyway, I eventually get on the decks and finish the night off winging it on my new tunes and thoroughly enjoying myself and getting them mixes in sharp and mixing a lot because I’ve got a lot of records to get through and after the gig I get some really nice responses from everyone who danced their little socks off on the floor of the pub.

Stoney said I am the best DJ he’s ever heard. I was touched, I know I’m good but, hey, it’s nice to hear it, and so I gave him a Lawnchair Generals tune which I know he’ll like. After we went back to S&E’s bus for a chill out.

Jenny, said to me in the pub that she missed our little snogs that we sometimes sneak with each other but because I have respect for them both as a couple I wouldn’t ever take it any further. But I do like my cuddles with her when we do take them. Tonight a ‘hips in’ hug suffices and her cheeky little grin really cheers me up. She seems so happy.

After one particular gig, a free party in some cold storage farm, I was walking past this car, it was shaking suspiciously from side to side, and I had a peep in; as you do. It was Stoney. He was fucking this girl. He clocked me and mouthed “don’t tell Tania”, his girlfriend at the time, and I said “OK”. So, I know he’s a ‘player’ and he’s a letch and sexist and not very well educated and when “Fish Finger John” was caught in a compromising position with Tania one night Stoney was reluctant to ‘avenge’ the crime. Peer pressure more or less forced him to half heartedly punch FFJ in the face once summer evening outside the Foun-tain. But, job done, he could get on with his life in peace.

Back at the bus/coach it was like having a party in a corridor. They had the decks set up and cold beer to hand. They insisted I finish my set off so I got on the decks, after the genny was fired up, and did just that; playing for a few extra hours until Louis looked like he was in a fit state to drive. Tort seemed to enjoy herself. She loves that same thing I do and gets a great kick off buzzing around from venue to party to pub or whatever; ‘chasing the vibe’ as I call it and if you’re not into the stationary mass partaking of drink and drugs then it’s an ideal way get around and see as many people as one feasibly can in the shortest amount of time possible.

Louis dropped Tort and I back off in Whitstable and went home to his family. it was good to see him out and about on a saturday night as he's doesn't get out much these days let alone get a chance to 'party'.

T and I head for S&A's after we pick my car up. It's freezing cold end of winter evening and we're glad to get in the warm of the house. In the back room A is playing records of a random sort, chiefly, The Go Beats! and some tunes involving trumpets and latin rhythms. Everyone there is dancing and smiling and enjoying themselves. They are glad to see us and after hugs and greetings a Gin and tonic is thrust in my hand and I settle down for a few hours.

Helene and her new man Jules are deep in conversation in the corner. I go over to say hi but they ignore me. Jules gets up to leave and H follows. They look worried. Today at work H said J was fine until A pulled out a tiny bit of MDMA. She said J said he didn't want her taking drugs or getting pissed. He didn't want a relationship with a drunk and drug user. She said he's OK though. Got a lot of baggage with his wife leaving him and his parents dying recently. H is lovely and I hope things work out for them.

J&E are really pissed and falling about and enjoying themselves with tremendous gusto. At one point E goes; "I can see that look in his eyes. Hide your clothes Alma". Sure enough I get to see a picture the next day of Justine dressed up in Alma's clothes. Casual drunken tranvestitism seems to be the order of the day.

After a few hours Tort leans over and says that she'd like to go now. i stop what i'm doing and run her home. She invites me in but we keep in shallow and drink some tea and smoke a spliff. I'd like to talk to her about how I feel but I can tell she is getting tired so don't even try. At the bottom of the stairs, as I'm leaving, she kisses me on the lips and the smile she gives me melts my heart and I drive home half in tears and half very pleased that we had such a good night out. She's like that though; sees me working so hard for her and just when I'm about to give up she gives me a little something. Regretful, sad, but aware, that that is all I'm ever going to really get from her and that is about as connected we will ever be. I know this. I know this. Why perservere though? Still better something than nothing at all ey? And, regretfully I am still attracted to her, so anything I get from her is good for me. Especially a friendship.

Saturday, March 11, 2006

but no sex please we’re ex’s

Was DJing at this gig over the weekend:
“Saturday 11th March 2006 - Pirates of the Hairybean present Walking the Plank @ The Admiral Owen, Sandwich, Kent. Opp Bell Hotel. Deck hands - Seaman Stoney, Captain Oz and First Mate Timo. 7 till close.”

Met Alma and Steve down Dukes for a quick drink to celebrate Alma’s 37th birthday. Was there with Tort who I’d picked up earlier because she doesn’t like going out and driving if she’s knows she’s going to be drinking even one drop. Enter her taxi on call, me, who is round there whenever she decides she needs a lift with me; walks, trips to London, whatever! I’m there for her. Have been ever since her ‘straw that broke the camels back’ comment she hurled at me just before the dumping. Feeling waves of bad boy guilt I’ve been trying to make it up to her ever since. Maybe she’s just playing a game with me but without my active participation the game wouldn’t even exist and, as it goes, I’ll do anything for her to make up for the crimes I committed and make amends and who knows she may even like me again, forgive me for what I have done and become my lover once more.

Anyway, S&A’s chums were all there and we were making a big fuss of A who was opening up her birthday cards and presents and smiling and laughing and it was a really touching moment. As the crowd grew bigger and time marched on I could see, with the aid of my time travelling gifts, that the drinking would continue with quite a vociferous pace until closing when they planned to head off for the Foun-tain for a late drink till 12.30 or 1am-ish. Now S&A are Scottish (not saying anything about stereotypes here at all) and J&E are big drinkers too. So join the dots. Louis arrived after ringing me up and he, I and T went to Thanet in L’s VW Sharan people carrier for my gig. L popped a few E’s and T did one too. I had a half because it was there and I was playing house music to people on it too so though ‘may as well…’

The Admiral Owen is a shit hole or ‘friendly local’ depending on your view point and how you like your pubs. Personally I like my pubs large, with comfortable sofas and nice, cold beer. The Owen was a stone floored ‘character’ pub, well in need of a makeover but the people there were friendly enough and the beer was good. Stoney, Jenny, PD and Ramsden (I presume The Pirates of the Hairybean) had set up at the back of the pub. Timo, all hail the Timo, was playing tunes at the back. Nice, dubby, a few old ones but otherwise immaculately mixed as usual. S&J were dressed up as pirates; even the obligatory blow up parrot was in evidence on S’s shoulder. I had over a hundred quids worth of new tunes and was gagging to get on the decks which they duly did when Timo had finished.

Tortoise Face spent most of the night talking to John and Jane and we didn’t speak that much. I begin to despair as no matter how much energy I put into her I get nothing back. Perhaps she’s trying to tell me something? Yeah, pick me and drop me off; but no sex please we’re ex’s! The message is getting there but she behaves like this to everyone; never giving too much always critical by her lack of response. I think I think she’s smarter than she actually is. As emotional depth or awareness and the expression of it never seems to manifest in her behaviour at all. Why I have this attachment let alone why I keep pursuing it completely baffles me. Perhaps it’s the only good thing I’ve had since Nicky Wilson left my sorry arse crying on the sofa that fateful day on October the 12th 2002.

Funny thing is I’ve always liked Sara, but she hasn’t liked me, ever since I first met her in the early 90’s. Sara is Jay’s ex. She just dumped him recently which is why I’m thinking that his interest in Tort may be only superficially sexual and he just wants to 'get back on the horse' as it were after being dumped by Sara. She said she liked him but not his temper. I hear his temper can be ferocious but after all the 'practice' he’s had with Sara he may well tune in to Tort’s particular foibles that her personality throws out. I hope that doesn’t happen but we’ll have to wait and see. He may be a better man than I think he is at the moment. It all feels very hurtful to me but who gives a fuck about how I feel? No one.

Friday, March 10, 2006

She left him 9 months ago

Got a strange phone call from Christmas Chris the other day. It lasted eight and a half minutes and I don’t think I spoke one word during the whole conversation. The gist of it was this; my partner left me because she was a sex addict, you are her friend, I can’t speak to you anymore.

She left him 9 months ago. I’ve got some of my old diaries and there are a lot of entries pertaining to him and his partner Terry which I think I’m going to publish some time soon. For years, according to C, she was getting off her head at parties and fucking guys. Anyone she fancied apparently. Now I knew of several incidents where she had done this and had not talked about it or mentioned it to C at all. Well, the way he’s behaving now justifies that decision a bit I think. Now he’s off on one. Would it have made any difference if he had known earlier or not? I don’t know and couldn’t possibly speculate because all I know is what’s happening now.

25 years of being with someone and not knowing about their secret sex life? What sort of set up is that? Now, he’s fucking his friends off left right and centre. Saying he can’t even hang around with the party people anymore. How we are all condoning T’s behaviour by not speaking out against it. I don’t agree with that analysis at all but I do agree that people should be allowed to express themselves openly and without prejudice from any one even if that person is your partner.

So this morning it boiled up a bit and I fired off a text to him because everyone pussyfoots around him since his failed attempt on his life. I said “appreciate what you’re going through but there a few points I’d like to make. I’m Paul. Not T’s friend. A person. A human being trying to help a fellow sufferer through some pain. I deserve some respect from u. I’m a friend 2u. don’t reject me or blame me. Others have and it fucks me up. Don’t add 2 it. I’m here if u need 2 talk but u never do. I feel like shit coz of u. push away if u want but it’s the wrong thing 2 do & u know it. Call me. Px”

Thursday, March 09, 2006

By the time we’d had our potato pizzas

Saw my good friend Timo on Friday night at a meal round Jes and Megs. Mine and Tim's has been a strange friendship over the years. We’ve known each other since the days we used to DJ together on the free party scene in the early 90’s. We amalgamated Heights of Pleasure and tVC and have been DJing together ever since. We’ve both been through a lot over the years and I’d like to tell you Tim’s story one day but this day is not the day to do that.

These guys, our friends Jes and Meg, are two teachers but Jes has become so disillusioned with teaching he’s thinking of giving it all up. To do what, he doesn’t know. All he does know is he doesn’t want to do what he’s doing. Which is fair enough. This is worrying his partner a bit. I think she has nothing to worry about as he’s bound to find something, other than selling ceramic pigs on eBay and taking his two lolloping Labradors out walking in the countryside, that he enjoys.

So we sat there on their leather sofas in their brand new kitchen drinking fine wine waiting on our food which was being cooked by Megs exquisite foody hands. We’d done this so many times and will do it again so many times that the relaxed atmosphere is rarely forced and the naturalness of this has us all talking about what is dear to our hearts. Well, all except me of course because I don’t really know how to talk about how I feel with regard to love in my life as I’m always so confused and feel so rejected, dejected and abandoned by all the women in my life from my mother onwards that I rarely feel that ‘things are right’. Let alone anything that prompts me to want to talk about them to others. So, I talk about work and big it up a bit even though I’m just as dejected about the grind of teaching as Jes is but wouldn’t dare say because that may signify that my life is not as I want it and that I’m just like everyone else who has painted themselves into a corner and can’t get out because of the fear of failure or the fear of making the wrong decision and how it would waste years of getting good at your job and doing all those professional qualifications and all for what? To retrain and go into another profession that would probably instil the same emotions in you a few years down the line as your current job does.

By the time we’d had our potato pizzas, green bean with onion and pasta and salad and also quaffed down several bottle of nice red wine it was getting on for midnight and Jes was yawning on the sofa which of course means its time to go as nobody wants to be hanging around when one of the hosts is fast asleep in your company. I left with a promise to invite the crew to my next curry night where we’ll hopefully talk a bit more and you never know; I might actually feel close and trusting of someone enough to talk about my feelings to them?

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

ALL I REALLY NEED TO KNOW

ALL I REALLY NEED TO KNOW

All I really need to know about how to live and what to do and how to be I learned in kindergarten. Wisdom was not at the top of the graduate-school mountain, but here in the sandpile these are the things I learned:

Share everything.
Play fair.
Don't hit people.
Put things back where you found them.
Clean up your own mess.
Don't take things that aren't yours.
Say you're sorry when you hurt somebody.
Wash your hands before you eat.
Flush.
Live a balanced life - learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some.
Take a nap every afternoon.
When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands, and stick together.Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the Styrofoam cup: The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why,but we are all like that..
Goldfish and hamsters and white mice and even the little seed in the Styrofoam cup - they all die. So do we.
And then remember the Dick - and - Jane books and the first word you learned - the biggest word of them all - LOOK.

-Robert Fulghum.

Monday, March 06, 2006

breaks my stony little heart to pieces

Saturday saw me out and about with the ‘nazi rambler’ crew. We were desperately avoiding the pub before the walk, which we did, before we picked a visit to the largest oak tree in Europe, which is in Fredville Park Manor grounds in Nonington village in Kent. The tree, called The Majestic Oak or The King FredVille Oak, is on private land so is not widely publicised because of this. It's over 1000 years old and rightly deserves credit as being the finest oak in the British Isles. Us locals know about it though. Introduced to the crew through another friend JG; a man who knows a thing or two about all things Kent. Upon approaching the estate we had to ring on the gamekeepers cottage, Rottweilers barking in the background, to get permission to walk through their wood to visit the tree. Which we duly did. The tree is 38ft in circumference and hollow inside, doesn’t produce acorns and has been recorded in historic literature as growing healthily in 1540; so it’s bloody old. Carole climbs up it to look inside the hollow and accidentally rips some bark off.

Poor Carole. I’d got a phone call off her the night before around 1 in the morning. I was already in bed after the debacle of the early finish gig the night before but dressed and went round to see her immediately. She was very distressed. Her boyfriend MDM had uncermoniously dumped her after the gig on the way home to his and she was in pieces the poor thing. He left her crying in the street. I just sat and drank tea with her; listening, nodding, shaking my head, agreeing. Letting her get it all out. Eventually, a few hours later, she calmed down a bit and after another cup of tea and an agreement to meet the next day for a walk in the countryside I left. It's so hard for long term couples. Their dynamics are entrenched and difficult to analyse.

We continued on the walk with J&E discussing the fact that it was E’s birthday the next day and what we might do to celebrate it, eventually deciding on a walk and a pub lunch on Sunday. I do love my beer guzzling artist friends. They accept me unconditionally and never criticise. As I do them.

That night I had an invite to visit a ‘private view’ art show in the Bubble. Rupert and Gaz and J&E were showing some stuff off in what used to be an old bakery in Norfolk Street, now owned by a guy who runs an antique shop in town. The art, which I'd seen most of it before anyway, was interspersed around the usual antique shop ‘collectables’ such as stags heads, wild boars heads, crappy water colour paintings from the Victorian times and Welsh dressers. We sat on old church pews and sipped cheap wine which was served in plastic cups AND in wine glasses – most unusual for this type of event – and everyone partook with gusto.

I chatted to Alistair about Cagey and how he’s fucked up on booze and fags and how he shouldn’t have just moved out town like but how he was otherwise OK. John Altman, AKA Nick Cotton from EastEnders turned up. Apparently a friend of the owner. He had on a Cromby coat that looked just a teensy bit small for him and everyone was commenting about he’d ‘put on a few pounds’. Cruel. All I wanted to do was stage whisper ‘’allo Ma!’ to him but he probably gets that all the time anyway so I didn’t and left him alone.

Heading out into the chilly evening for the Smack, I had Shaun booked but he pulled out because he was having a ‘roughy’ as Penny called it. I’d arranged to meet my recent ex there for a little night out. She’d been blanking me something terrible for a few weeks and it was getting to the point where I couldn’t even look at her because I thought she was being so hostile towards me. Anyway, a few emails exchanged, and a night out was booked. She turns up at the pub, I buy her a drink and play a few tunes while we wait for Mike SU to come and take over. I was looking forward to talking and clearing the air and just, i suppose receiving a little reassurance that things were still on track for us, which they were. I do worry about her and it was nice to hear her moan about her job, which may be finishing if this restructure in the NHS happens. She's a senior clinical auditor and her job is a boring as it sounds. She's hoping to finish her management course before the axe falls though. I wish her luck and in a way hope she she can find a better job that interests her more.

BenzEgo, a local pub band who we see virtually every week down the Neppy for free, were playing at Dukes. I took Tort down there for a bit to see some of our other chums. Tried to get in on the guest list, as you do, but failed and had to pay a fiver. It was nice down there. Quite full. Everyone was dancing to cheesy old covers from the band. Don’t know why people love that so much but they do. I fucking hate it and see it as soulless, emotionless, talentless dirge but there you go. If you want to hang out with your chums you have to go where they go don’t you? The band, despite their choice of tunes – even J, who plays trumpet in their band says he has ‘issues’ with their repertoire – was, I must say, as tight as a gnats chuff and quite enjoyable all the same.

Julia was there. Must have been funny for Ben out the band too becasue she's fucked him as well. I easily ignored her and she me but all her friends came up to me one at a time and gave me big hugs and a little chat which I of course fucking loved. The sad J could only hurl looks at me which I fielded by not even having eye contact with her. I'm still so angry with her and her attitude to me that it's going take a few more months of melting before I will even entertain the idea of talking to her again. If I ever will.

Another breakthrough. After weeks and weeks; maybe months of cold shouldering Rosie came up to me and said ‘hello Paul’. ‘Hello Rosie’ I reply back and we have a little hug. Next day I sent her a text; 'really relieved that we connected again last night. Thanks for making the effort. I do love you loads and have missed you terribly. Please forgive me’. When I saw her the next day on the walk we had a lovely chat and it looks like we might be friends again soon.

Tort was her usual impassive and unimpressable self. She never gets excited about anything and always seems bored by everything around her. She talks in a really shallow way about most subjects but I don't care. If she makes a fuss of me she can talk about how green the grass is and I won't mind. I nearly gave up the whole thing there and then but persevered and we ended up having a dance at Dukes and a chat at the after party round Adeys house. Missed out on an invite back to Ben’s after gig thing because I went back to the pub for last orders but watched the film footage of it on the Sunday walk in the pub. Didn’t miss much but it was good to see JP who has just split up with her abusive husband. She was full of her new life and how she is getting a place with her daughter and how things are going to be great again. She looked well and it was nice to see her happy again. Wonder what happened to Conrad though? He was a bit of a junkie and you know how the junkie stereotype always wins through and destroys relationships?

Took Tort home after the chill out and stayed with her at her flat for a cup of tea and a smoke whilst listening to her tell me about ‘cuddles’ and how she loves them; her exploits the week before where she was down the Neppy after the Peg free party sandwiched between Eric and Dusty on the sofa; more of Dusty the gypsy sex pest (I hope she doesn't like him 'too' much); her lover from when she went on holiday; how promiscuous I am (I'm not!); she rambled on for ages but I wasn’t listening too intently anyway. I was thinking of how much I'm still sexually attracted to her body but not too keen on what she talks about. Then she mentioned Russell: ‘oh you know him. I’ve seen you talking to him at the Smack. He likes me but I’m not sure about him.’ My heart sank. Why? Because I secretly harbour fantasies of us getting back together or is it that old ex thing about not wanting her to fancy / love / have sexual relationship with anyone else but me kinda vibe? Hey, if she likes this guy she should go for it I said. I was pleased she was talking about him. Means she's recovering. Oh god, she also mentioned how it had been nearly a year since we split up.

I was just enjoying being with her but resenting a little how much work I had to put into getting these few hours with and how I know that things will just slide back into ex and ex land and how ultimately I’ll just be as unhappy with her as I was before I made all this fuss to meet her. If you know what I mean. I said that I hope she makes the right decision and why not go for it? What you got to lose? You may actually gain something? I was saying how all my sexual encounters since our break up have been shallow and ultimately unsatisfying and trying to find redemption through sex or even trying to find anything through sex with people who don’t care about you can actually be quite damaging.

I only want to see her happy and still love me, even if it is just friends, and if not with me then hopefully someone she likes or loves, and seeing her going around without anyone to cuddle or love her or to care for her feelings breaks my stony little promiscuous heart to pieces.

Sunday, March 05, 2006

Ended up leaving early

A weekend of highs and lows. Naw, not really; lows and medium to getting highs at most. Sometimes you’ve got to have weekends like that just to make the good ones seem more standoutish.

After another busy day at work in Sheerness helping the clued down population with their computer and maths and English skills it was a slow drive home through the massive jams caused by the building of the Sheppey Bridge. This is finished sometime in summer 2006. It’s a right pain. It adds a least a hour there and an hour back onto any journey and hate time it steals from me.

Soulful Sessions were promoting a night at the Horsebridge in Whitstable. Me and MDM were booked to play. It was a disaster. No one turned up. The reason the gig failed was as follows;

The publicity material was put out too late and not distributed effectively.
The flyer itself was worded in such a way that anyone reading it would have thought ‘what the fuck is that trying to say?’ e.g. ‘no puffas’.
They had already done a gig the week before and one the week before that.
The venue is poo! The main room has no windows in it, is acoustically bereft of positiveness and tries to look like an upturned boat. The council had to put curtain all round the room to temper the bad acoustics.
The fucking architect, who has also ‘designed’ several other buildings in town should be taken out to the nearest field, forced to dig his own grave, them mercilessly shot in the head for crimes to architecture, then the grave should be filled up with the rubble from his demolished follies.
Last entry was 10 and the whole thing had to finish by 12. What the fucking hell do they think they are doing restricting events to 12 midnight? My god, every self respecting lover of dance music doesn’t even think about leaving the house till 10pm let alone having to finish their partying by midnight. It’s a joke. That’s why most people didn’t even bother.
Instead of finishing the very short night off with house music as they had stated on their flyer they got the downstairs room DJ to finish off upstairs so we got De La Cruz playing his ‘funky shit’ to 6 people dancing.
The venue is no smoking.

Ended up leaving early.

Saturday, March 04, 2006

CJ gets glum

Got this email off CJ yesterday:

Oz, thought I'd better contact you in case you thought I was having a nervous breakdown or something. As it happens I am. Well, not so much a nervous breakdown as a continuation of the same mid-life crisis I've been going thru for the last about 5 years: meaning that I just totally lack confidence about who I'm supposed to be these days. Can't take drugs. Can't drink. Can't face crowded rooms. Can't stand loud music. Can't allow myself to be attracted to people. Can't bear the sight of other people having fun. Etc Etc.

Um, I also can't remember what happened to me the last time I saw you. Did I manage to pay you back the money I owed? I know I had none left in my pocket when I woke up the following day, also burdoned with a terrible sense of guilt about god-knows what. My very existence I think.
Anyway, I don't know if you are still interested in helping me out with the site. It definitely needs updating, plus I'd like to be able to sell some of my books thru it, if you know how to go about that. I have about 200 copies of Fierce Dancing, and about 100 of the Arthur book, which I'd like to sell. I need to start writing again or I really am going to go bananas.
All the best,
CJ.

I wrote back:

Hi Chris,
Naw, I didn't think you were having a nervous breakdown! I just thought the lazy bugger can't be arsed to email!
Mid life crisis; shmid live crisis.You’ve never been that confident about who you are anyway have you mate? Always questioning everything, over analysing! Trying to understand. That’s one of the things I love about you. Recently: more quietly just getting on with it, I thought. A quieter confidence. An intense confidence still. Always fired me up mate. And still does. I can’t believe you feel so down. Who are we supposed to be anyway? Get thinking about questions like that and you’re gonna need a 3 year degree in philosophy before you even begin to understand the question. You never could take drugs or hold your drink or stand loud music <;-)> So don’t take drugs! Or drink so much! Stay in and read a book! Be yourself.
I’m totally with you though on the ‘Can't allow myself to be attracted to people’ idea. That’s a whole heap of complexity there mate.
Last time we met we were a few sheets to the wind but I think we had fun! And a good talk. I though you talked a lot of sense. Don’t remember about any money owing thing though. Must be because I renewed your website subscription fees.
We gotta meet and talk some more about this. When you free?
Ozx

That 'Last time we met we were a few sheets to the wind' comment was a bit of an under-exaggeration. We were totally fucked! CJ's arm was trembling like he had some brain disease. That was the night he told me he'd seen my ex Nicky. She'd come running up to him whilst he was delivering his letters (he's a postman) and had a chat with him talking about the old days. He said she asked after me and then started crying. Pains my heart to hear that. I'm still deeply hurt by the way she split our relationship. She left me a note on the coffee table for me to read when I'd got home from work. Nice. She left me and went to live in a van with the sound system's ex lighting man. Still fucking hurts to write about it here but it has to be said. She left all her friends; all her old life. Hasn't been in touch with anyone since. Till she pulled CJ up that winters day in 2006.

So, had this drink with CJ last night. He was quite depressed. Couldn't get back into his writing again. Was dry. Restricted by his job and the need to get up at 5 in the morning. Not wanting to drink because he thinks he has problems there. Frightened to have a relationship; fearful of intimacy. Yet wanting it so bad it was beginning to make him ill. He didn't ask me about my life or how I felt but then I figured I was there for him that night and needed to be a listener for him. Which I was. I invited him to my DJ gig but whether he decides to come or not remains to be seen.

As a footnote to CJ's website, check out his blog (not updated for a while for obvious reasons) but still worth checking out. Its called ten thousand days.

Friday, March 03, 2006

Or so my therapist said.

Yeah, it's not going that good on the women front. I seem to have pissed off or be having trouble with most of the women in my life. That's before I start on my mother abandoning me when I was 5 and being fucked up about it ever since. Or so my therapist said. Maybe I want my relationships like that? To avoid intimacy. To avoid the one thing I seek? Naw, can't be that. Or can it?

Then I'm always whinging on about my job and how shit it is. yet I really do enjoy it sometimes. Not the DSU stuff at the Uni but teaching people a skill that they get a buzz out of learning. Perhaps I just want Tort to be intimate with me again. I miss her. Not sexual but on a friendship level like what we talked about when we split. She helped me through that more than anyone. didn't have to. But did. Now, it seems like she just wants to distance her self from as much as possible but can't because she socialises so much with my group now. I think she really just goes through the motions with me now so she can be part of my social circle and not get any grief from me; which i don't give her. At all. Not yet anyway. If she doesn't start being friendly with me again I'm going to have to re-evaluate my position there becasue there is only so much effort one can put into something whilst not getting any return before they just give up and give up the ghost. if i continue to see her out in my cirlce and i'm getting the blank or the minimum 'hiya' like I always do then, then blanksville thereon in i'm going to have to avoid her like the plague. She's sending a deliberate mnessage to me that she doesn't care how I feel anymore and is therefore not liable to socialise with me.

Why do I overanalyse? Do I? I just think what I do is normal behaviour. Reading through other peoples weblogs I know there are other people out there who constantly talk about their inner life / outer life dichotomy.

So decided to try and clear the air with Tort.

I'm getting sick of this increasingly fetid air between us and it's starting to ruin my social life and i can't let that happen. Can I? so we begin post Peg / London weekend where i think her and my mate Timo got off with each other....

She sent me this email;-
Great weekend eh? Glad I didn’t have to go to work today though. Tx

Hi, Yeah, great weekend. Good little party. Very busy. Just how I like it. You got home ok then? Good to see you. Shame that our relationship feels likes it is so awkward and is relegated down to ‘nodding acquaintances’ (makes me feel v. sad it does) and we don’t talk or socialise as much as we promised each other we would. Still…Take care. Life moves on. No doubt I’ll see you around and about… I’ll keep the jokes coming on a Monday though! Don’t want to lose touch with you completely… Oz x

Yeah, lounged with Jane and Zoe till Sunday afternoon (they’re such lovely hosts) then got the train back. Only made it as far as the Neptune for the early evening gig, which was a great end to the weekend. Bit of a major session for me. Still a bit spaced today. I do love it though. The last few times I’ve seen you I did think you seemed a bit uncomfortable. Maybe you were a bit worried about Sarah…? I don’t know. But there’s really no need. It was fine wasn’t it? Whether it’s the same girl or another it’ll be fine next time too I’m sure. Thought I remembered you giving me a flyer and saying something about this coming Friday. Haven’t got it now or did I imagine it?

Tort x J&Z are great hosts aren’t they?
Have spent many a post drugged up w/e in their company over the years… Yeah, things are fine. But could be better. I do have a few concerns though. Nothing to do with Sarah:- Felt extremely uneasy because we didn’t (don’t?) talk, I think. Or don’t seem to anymore. Have we lost something there? I see you out; you ignore me! I get upset. Not nice. Especially if we are in a group. Or so it feels. Makes me very uncomfortable when you’re there and don’t interact with me as you do with others (like Sara’s b/day). I’m new to this ‘let’s be friends thing’ as you know! Makes me think things aren’t working out for us as we’d planned or arranged or agreed. Maybe worried about you withdrawing from me even further and how I might cope with that potential feeling of loss. It’s soo important to me that we get on, that things are good and positive and that there’s no bad feeling between us. Especially if we’re to continue socialising with each other. If we didn’t socialise together within the Whitstable group it wouldn’t matter so much. But we do; so it does. Torn between wanting to give you the space you want and wanting to be your friend but not being allowed to be; or it feeling one sided from me to you all the time. I genuinely pick up from you vibes that you don’t like me. How are things going to be at gatherings in the future? At gigs/parties/meals out? At the big chill? In France? How could I live with more of that uneasiness? I couldn’t. It would ruin my little life I’ve built up. Just working through and jotting down feelings here; nothing concrete. It’s how I feel though. I’m being honest here. What do you think? You must have noticed the dynamic has changed? Oz x

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

'Peter Cushing Lives In Whitstable'

Louis called me today. Is planning a secret meal out tonight for his old mate Martin. 'Don't tell him!' he laughs. Him and M, 'back in the day', used to go on these massive speed binges, constantly topping up with spoonfuls of this white powder in a massive plastic bag. M could take apart a motor bike and reassemble it in a couple of hours. L was in a band called 'The Jelly Bottys' or 'The Jelly Botties'. Their most famous song was 'Peter Cushing Lives In Whitstable'. Which he did. At the time anyway. He's dead now but, hey, you should have seen the funeral courtege pass through the town. Every head on the crowded street was bowed. They'd play it down the Labour Club and the whole audience would sing along with gusto to the chorus.

L recently passed his HGV test and is touting around for work. Think he actually rang me up to tell me that he'd just bought a £300 SatNav for his truck. Boys and their toys. It's good to see him fired up again anyway. Since the 2 girls have arrived it's grounded him a lot and prioritised his thinking but i think he finds family life a little dull. M has six kids. Him and M still have a little coke binge now and again, every month or so, just to remind themselves of their younger incarnations. Been friends a long long time see! That brings to the table something...

TV Cabbage