The Call of the Wild

One of my favourite spring memories - I'm walking home from the train station the air is warm, I notice there's still sunlight when the week before it was dark - it's perfect dusk. There's a warm breeze heavy with the scent of Jasmine flowers that bring with it all the wonderful memories of summer - the beach, the fruit, the friends, the fun! As I walk along the street I live on I can hear a low rumbling beat in the distance, a deep bass vibration travelling down the street and getting ever louder and deeper. With each step the smell of Jasmine becomes stronger, the air warmer and closer on my skin the low rumble gets louder and louder until I reach our yard. It is the primal rumble of my father (an aboriginal elder of the D'harawal tribe) playing his didgeridoo that calls me home. And that is the beginning of summer for me. And that is home to me.

So now winter is coming to an end and its that time of year again. The days are longer, the air is warmer and filled with the

memories of summers

past. Barbeques, late night out door drinking, recovering in a crystal clear pool. Super blond hair and glowing brown

skin. The tingling sting of a slight sunburn from a day at the beach. Fizzy alcoholic drinks, homemade cocktails made from bits and pieces leftover from a big Saturday night. Ahhh summer! Made all the better by a long stream of family and friends coming and going, your place or theirs, it didnt matter. It was SUMMER!!! And this was my most favourite time of the year - the aniticipation of summer! Winter is nearly over, you're noticing the changes but you're not dealing with sweat, humidity, flies, sleeveless tops and sticky fake tan that smells like curry. You're just working with the good memories, the nostalgia. I just love this time of year.

So why do I feel so sick and desolate?

Oh, thats right - I have no family or friends.

And what is summer without them?

There is no chance if I spark up a barbeque (which we dont even have) and crack a fizzy that someone will just pop in and share in the food and drink and sweaty frivolity. Not even mum and dad will pop their heads in from next door. This is truly sad.

I kid you not, I went to Aldi for some familiarity and A. They sell alcohol! and B. Check out the name of their $3.99 special!!! I get the hint!

Please dont tell me to be patient and I'll make new friends. I want my old friends. And a month without friends to me is like a year without water. I look out to the beautiful blue sky and gorgeous almost summer sunset and I cry with total and utter despair. This is really painful stuff. I see people at the shops and I think "Oh there's so and so" and move in for a chat and then the stark realisation that this is just someone who looks like them and could not possibly be them and I could cry right there in the middle of woolworths (Safeway in Melbourne). To not see ANYONE you know for weeks at a time is really hideous. I talk to checkout people, receptionists - anyone at all and I am quietly and silently sizing them as suitable long term friend material. And if I find someone who I think would be great it practically breaks my heart that they dont invite us all over for a barbeque on the weekend. I see women stopped in the streets having a chat and I look in amazement and think - wow, they're friends?!!?? And honestly, as a sane onlooker - I feel really sorry for me. I feel like an alien on another planet. I want to scream from the rooftops - "I have friends!!! I really do!" I have been getting myself out there and going to places and "things" but I'm sure I'm scaring people off with the wretching stench of desperation. This is really so pathetic, ungrateful and really so much deeper than I expected. I knew this would be hard but this is sad on a micro level.

And lets remember why we're all here in the first place? The band. Yes the 6 month bandiversary came and went last week and let me beat you all to the rush to say - I would never have lost and kept off the 14 kilos I've lost without it but really (and my husband has started asking questions) should things have moved a little faster than this? Maybe not. I must remember the first two months without any kind of a decent fill were a complete write off (excuses excuses) and its only been the last 3 months I've felt vaguely on top of it all so really 14 kilos in four months is pretty much right on. So lets let that one go......

Although - that summer thing again - I would have thought I would be much more physically comfortable and less insulated this summer and wearing pretty cotton summer numbers this season but like those gorgeous winter boots - ta ta to that dream!

So the band is on again off again at the moment. I think its off to the doctors next week although I'm still getting stuck and puking every day. Who knows - I'm lost - no idea. I dont understand how I can be so tight I'm puking and yet still feel hungry and never full??? I think its my habits not the band. So do I need another fill? Wouldn't have a clue.

I swear to you, the pics are coming and I would have put them in this post but the pics are kinda funny and this is kinda not (sorry bout that).

So, people think that aboriginal people are nomadic and can live anywhere travelling where the wind and food takes them and so maybe its the whitey in me that is suffering so much from the move? But then, what people fail to recognise are the ties to land and tribe that aboriginal people feel - we may wander but always on the same land and with the same people.

And I don't have either.