Mute
Unusually cold night for this time of year, or perhaps not so unusual. It might just be that my memory is muted and that thoughts are jumbled that I can't truly remember the fact to be able to say so for sure.
Some minutes past midnight, and the five of us could be found walking alongside the river in the dim night, lit only by timid streetlamps and fading lights of closing restaurants.
The day had been long. Twelve hours with a group of girls, none of whom I knew except for one - the one who's getting married next week. Hence the girls' night out, though it really began after lunch with a trip to the Melbourne Aquarium.
Originally we were going to get the bride-to-be to dive with the sharks. ;) Unfortunately, her asthma has been bad lately and she would not have been allowed into the water, so we wandered around and spent hours looking at exotic fishes.
I have decided I rather like stingrays. At a rather large but shallow rock pool, the young stingrays were perfectly aware of their human audience, and they would just surface a little and peer at us, before swimming away again. They would also come right up close to the edge and lift up one side of their body and swim-slide along the wall, as if in greeting.
I skipped the rides at the end of the aquarium tour while the rest of the girls (except one other) went on them. Rides and I don't go well together. Usually I lose out to motion sickness and anxiety. So instead, I went outside into the light rain and the cold for a while and switched my little radio on to see if I could catch the latest cricket news.
In the miserable weather, I walked past a bridal party photo session where the groom was having a serious looking-thoughtfully-in-the-distance shot taken under the railway bridge. The photographer's assistant was holding a mirror up to the groom's face to get the light just at the right angle .... I might have looked strange and out of place, standing in the middle of nowhere, staring across the road at the AAPT building.
Two hours and a half hours spent chiselling away time between the aquarium and dinner at the Southbank food court. We had ice cream, coffee and some wedding related conversation. I managed to survive, not feeling particularly sociable.
Dinner at a French restaurant where our menu was predominantly Italian. One of the girls didn't know what a 'brandy basket' is. The tables were covered with white, slightly glossy paper on top of the white tablecloths. Presumably it saves them money on laundering.
The table behind me was a gathering of computer geeks, some with partners, most without. You could tell by just sweeping your glance across the company. It wasn't so much what they wore or how they behaved, but the words they spoke and the fact that table reeked of superior problem-solving skills. The scary thing is, I probably would have felt more at home with that crowd than the bunch of girls at my table.
I sketched my inadequacies away with a blue pen, capturing first a part of the city skyline, then a full-blown impromptu collage-sketch which has become second nature.
"Someone is being an artist," a girl said.
There's only so much conversation you can have about hair, flowers, nails, nail polish and misbehaviours of men.
"What's your inspiration?" another girl asked.
Concentrating, feeling lost, oddly humble and undeserving of the attention, I smiled and spoke my truth.
"Everything."
Everything. Everything was dark and the lights seemed shy as I lurked behind the other four girls who were walking abreast on the pavement, making our way to the car.
I was suffering caffeine and geek withdrawal. Steadfastly refusing any coffee earlier because I might not be able to sleep otherwise. God knows, I have enough difficulty putting my mind to rest.
[Corresponding dandruff flake] [Comment?]
11 November 2001, Sunday, 11:19 PM
Alter ego of dandruff
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