9:56pm I had a dream I kissed you, more real than any dream should be. I kissed you for a long time because I knew if I pulled away I'd wake up. When the kiss ended, I looked at you and your face was happy. I was grasping unconsciousness as it slipped away. I wanted just one more and took it. I could feel your lips on mine more real than all the kisses I've forgotten in this time and distance from you. I woke up. It was 7 am. I went back to sleep.
Later I kissed you again in sleep. You didn't expect it this time. I was sitting in that special spot I found by the ocean. You spotted me there through tree branches (your face, a surprise you expected) and hurried to me. Once in front of me, you sat very close, crouching balanced on your toes and fingertips. I took your face in both my hands and kissed you hard and quick. I was sure this apparition of you would soon vanish so I held on for as long as possible.
It is a bad idea to be away from you this long.
3:39pm
I just want to go home.
8:25pm
I don't feel like writing very much today, but I know that I should because some mention-worthy stuff happened.
This afternoon I played a show of sorts at a cafe called "Heart 'n Soul" in Frankston. It was pretty much like a Casa gig where free food and donations from the audience were the payment. Several people were quite receptive and others completely ignored me. Nothing new really except that they were all Australian. Angela asked me if I was nervous as we walked there. I said not really cuz I've been doing this stuff for four years and it was just a little coffeeshop show. I guess it should've been different cuz I'm in a foreign country, but it really didn't make a lot of difference. Still, it was a decent show and I made some money (for candy) and possibly some good contacts.
Angela has been very essential in the whole process of this gig; from getting it to providing the funny (in a good way) hat for donations, to writing a supernice entry in my show book when no one else did. She and Arron came to watch and it made me feel good to have them there.
Robert's dad was also very enthusiastic in helping me prepare for the show. I used his 12-string (which is loud, sparkly and red if you care to know) which he happily tuned (can't do that on my own yet) and found and fitted a strap for (it was a complicated process). He also made sure I had enough guitar picks. It made me miss my daddy.
It just occurred to me that I took no pictures at the show. I swear sometimes I'm camera-retarded. I carry it everywhere but when something happens that someone might care to see on film, I forget to use it. What a dope I can be.
After the show, Arron (now that's a more sensical way of spelling it, isn't it?) lent me his library card and they dropped me off at the library so I could use the internet (since Robert still hasn't come home to fix it). Simple enough, one would think. Here at the Frankston Public Library, I met the worst librarian ever. One has to book time on the internet by picking up a special phone and talking to the faceless voice. The card I was using, I was informed, was no longer on file. So much for that. The voice told me I should apply for a new card. I did so, but the librarian I talked to didn't seem to be capable of understanding my situation. "Does it make any difference if I don't live here?" I asked. "You can become a member of any library in Victoria as long as you blah blah blah." "But I'm from Canada," I said. She looked at me like I was stupid. "Do you have ID with an address on it?" "Well, yes...but I'm from Canada." She kept saying I could become a member of any public library in Victoria as long as I complied with the library's regulations. She never told me what the regulations were. She wanted to see some proof that I was staying somewhere in Frankston and then said I should get someone to come in and be a guarantor. I just wanted to use the fucking internet. I left the library.
The bathroom was a crime scene. A gruff police officer informed me that it was closed as a forensic photographer in latex gloves readied his camera.
I walked home quickly.
I missed my family a lot after that show today. Especially my sister who usually acts as my road manager (translation: keeps me sane and take care of the dirty work so I can play my songs). Angela did a reasonable replacement job, but I miss my Amy. I started to think about what this trip would be like if she had come along.
I found a nice spot to cry in the botanical gardens but couldn't continue when I became distracted by a homeless man searching the garbage cans. How out of place he seemed. I discovered that Picnic ice cream bars (we don't have them in Canada to the best of my knowledge) make me feel better when I'm pouting, but are of course, not as good for me as the ocean.
(it's strange how I've been thinking of my country since I got here. "home" for me has always been a more specific place, but now I can say Canada is my home and have it be a conceivable reality.)
I came home (heh) the same exact time as Steven which is good otherwise I would've been locked out. I helped him carry in some party supplies (Aileen's birthday on Saturday) and then retired to my room. I filled up my belly with candy and cried myself to something resembling sleep. I do not feel healthy. I haven't left this room since. Angela came to check on me to see if I wanted to eat. That was very nice since the thing I miss more than anything is my family and Shaughn being there when I need a good cry.
I forget the point of this trip now. It's not to play music, even though I told everyone it was. It's not about spending time with Robert anymore since he is hardly here and when he is there is most times something aggravatingly removed about him. It is not the "sexual pilgrimage" is was once referred to, as the only person I'm interested in sharing my body with is missing me in Canada. I suppose it's about "finding myself" but that's a tad hokey, not to mention exhausting. It could be about getting away from all the things that were making me mental at home (living with my mom, work, guilt, snow), but the things I miss outweigh that. I reckon it was about adventuring and I do do some of that, but I am living in suburbia. Maybe it's just about watching the ocean and all the other distractions that come in between. 9:11pm
11:56pm
It's four minutes to Friday and I haven't left this room since four. I thought about getting something to eat, but then reminded myself that not leaving this room would make a better story. I am writing in very small letters.
I have read all but the last three chapters of Ethan Hawke's "The Hottest State". It's making me introspective. I found a character in there like Angela and there's definitely one like Jay. One of them bares striking trivial resemblance to me, she's a singer who works as a nanny and her name is Sarah. When I first read the book, I was also similarily neurotic. I'm glad I don't identify with that part anymore. There is hardly any of Shaughn in these characters. I'm glad for that too.
What a great story.
I'm going to finish my book and dream Shaughn up. 12:04am Friday
to Friday, November 17, 2000
to australian tour diary
oz = can
