The Gong

So I've moved to "The Gong". The idea of living outside Sydney has horrified me for at least six years. Except for short stints for research or temporary teaching positions ( a year or two) overseas in other major cities, I never imagined myself choosing to live outside Sydney again. For the rest of my life. Sydney is home. Not just Sydney - the inner city.

But sometimes home becomes a wasteland. Normal life becomes stressful and causes you anxiety. Bad habbits become ingrained and impossible to break without a major overhaul. There's not *one thing* that can be cited as *the problem*. No individual thing can be blamed. So no individual thing can be fixed. I have become stuck in a rut. A life that seems alright on paper but is not making me happy at all.

I tried to get my mum to move to Sydney, thinking that it would ease the burden on us both financially, on her in terms of Marnie, and ease the isolation I felt since Josh was not around so much. But mum has plans of her own (to go to TAFE and work towards getting into Nursing) and moving back to Sydney does not suit her at all. And fair enough. But that left me feeling down.

I was in a rut. Feeling low. Isolated and lonely. Lacking motivation to do my thesis. And wanting the support and company that a family environment provides. (Well, that my family does anyway.) I get along very well with mum and the rest of my family, and deep down I was getting the feeling that I was a girl who really just needed her mum.

I don't know why after being independant for eight years, a person can suddenly need support, but there it is. And there I was. Admitting it and deciding to do something about it was the first positive step I'd taken in a while, and I felt better immediately.

The Gong seems ok. There's plenty of shops and restaurants, and places to go for coffee or a drink, there's movies, and pubs I may try to get a job at, there's a beach I haven't seen yet, my brother Danny and his GF Cara live on our street! And the flat feels like home already. So cosy, and my stuff fits really well in my room. I am ready to set up my study area.

I am still working at Manacle and may be for some time, so figuring out exactly how visits to Sydney are going to work is still an issue. I hope I get enough hours to make it worth the travel and expenses of being away from home. I am at Dave's tonight, so we'll see how that goes also. He's got internet and I can't get off it tonight!

So, anyway. Need a break from Sydney?! Come visit me in The Gong! I'll show you a good time - I promise!

--------

Happiness

A cloud has lifted. I cannot - nay - do not want to name it. I analyse way too much. This time I will simply enjoy this feeling. I know it well. An old friend returning. An old energy rebuilding. A smile to start the day. Feeling comfortable inside myself. Feeling positive. In control.

In high school, at home, I remember feeling this way. Woops, I've just figured it out despite my determination not to. I FEEL SAFE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN A LONG TIME.

I feel safe and warm.

I think this is generally known as contentment, and happiness is what people associate with being in love, getting a promotion or winning the lottery. But I have always maintained that contentment IS happiness, and I always will.

The next level up is joy.

------------

Annonymous graffiti near my house on Hordern St, in Newtown circa 2003 said:

"All I want is a penis. Woops! I mean happiness."

He he he. Ha ha ha. I'd better get back to my packing now... No, not THAT kind of packing! I'm not that kind of girl. Packing boxes, I mean... No, not like that! I give up...!

------------

Rumours...

This would have been a heart-broken rant if I had got around to posting last weekend when the feelings were new and the wounds were fresh, but now who has time for that?!

I am moving in about five days. To Wollongong.

That rumour is true.



Untrue rumours have spread around the scene like a virus for a couple of weeks, seeding from a genuine stupid thing I did on Inquisition weekend. Having been entrusted with a friend's keycard to withdraw money he owed me that I needed, I - upon losing the money and not knowing what to do - withdrew the amount again. I felt terrible and stupid and embarrassed, and couldn't explain all that through the loud music at stage 11. Let's face it, I wasn't ready to explain it. So i lied. I said the teller had fucked up, but promised to repay the amount ($50) before the next day. I did repay it, after borrowing from a very kind friend - thanks baby. But the seeds were sown. The seeds of doubt.

And I fear that my stupid white lie may have cost me a friendship I enjoyed.

In the meantime, it has come back to me through the blessed Oxford St scene grape-vine that I am an atm card theif. That I stole $100 from a friend. That I'm an unashamed pokies addict. That I stole from Leather Pride. That I was stealing from work. And that I have, in general, fallen from Grace.

None of these are true. Aside from the fall from Grace, but everyone who knows me knows I didn't fall, I lept. I jumped off my pedastal, holding hands with Brian when we clinked shot glasses, linked arms and threw back our first mil of g.

The road to here has been amazing. A ride of fun, meaning, lessons, humility, humanity, sensuality, music and fabulous drugs - some pretty shit ones too! But now I am leaving Sydney - for the first time in about 12 years.

I am going to seek shelter, support, comfort, quietness and family in Wollongong with Marnie and mum. To get out of debt, pay off credit card, take less drugs and HOPEFULLY get re-inspired and get to work on my thesis.

So, there you go. Little Miss Can't Be Wrong did something wrong and felt the full brunt of the rumour mill crushing for a couple of weeks. And it hurt and I cried, but it was nothing compared to how much letting go of Josh hurt. I am duck and their callous words are water off my back. So, it's raining?! Go dance in it! Life gives you lemons, cut them into wedges and serve with pancakes.

Wow. Life is so life-like. Oh, yeah. A piece of universal advice - maybe even an appeal. If you hear a rumour about someone you care about, confront them on it. Let them tell their story. Eveyone wants to be understood.

---------