I popped the pill on the back of my tongue and washed it down with a throatful of champagne, then turned to face the crowd.
I have been writing for about four years now, if you could call it that – I'd call it diarising and musing more than anything – mainly consisting of a stream of consciousness poetry and occasional haiku. I have my own blog with six followers but that doesn’t bother me: the fewer people who know when I am having a relapse, the better!
Recently my longtime gurlfriend, who now lives in Melbourne with her drummer husband and rocker sons, contacted me and asked me to submit several of my musings to a feminist blog. As someone on the very far fringes of the literary universe, I was honoured, because it was a chance, but for what exactly, who knew!
The invitation came at the right time: I was heading down to Melbourne and a breakdown on that weekend anyway.
As the lunch approached I became nervous, as you would imagine. It’s standard behaviour for an introverted extrovert, a passive-aggressive post-menopausal mess. There were no immediate thoughts of being judged or compared, just a sense of hoping to belong somewhere, but to what I didn’t know. I was about to find out.
Disobeying the standard "bring a homemade plate and a bottle" invite from my Melbournian bestie, I had placed my bought provisions on a groaning table of sweet and savoury delights and waited to see what would happen.
The first introduction had me immediately connecting with a female rock guitarist who I’d seen playing with my bestie’s husband, I breathed out, cool, this would be fine... we chatted amicably along with the three other women on a nearby lounge, juggling drinks and plates plus listening at a furious pace. The Champagne and female warmth finally settled my jangling nerves.
As my host swept between the inside and out greeting the revolving round of guests that had been coming and going over the couple of hours, something caught my ear from the crew in the back garden: the ballsy, throaty laughs of women obviously sharing something deep and intimate. I had to know what it was. Walking into a backyard of strangers was where you could come undone socially, but it turned out not to be the case, with an incredible array of cunts from all walks lining the garden path... actress, singer, marketing guru, rock guitarist, yoga instructor, archaeologist, museum curator…
They all greeted me warmly and I took up my place in the circle. There had been plans for a haiku group, a reading corner and some French lessons, but that was all forgotten as I ending up painting 'YEAH' on the brick wall while participating in an amazing, funny round robin of increasingly drunk story telling scribed immaculately by the gurl guitarist who doubled as a kid’s theatre performer during the day. Then in the midst of that wonderfully controlled mayhem, a reconnection was made from 30 years ago. I’d found a long-lost sista who had clung to her dream and made it.
I remember her as a fresh faced blonde with a huge smile and insatiable desire to be an actress. She was like a younger sister at the time and I immediately took her under my wing. As soon as we came face to face the immediate recognition ensued a wild coming together of hugging, head shaking and disbelief. I’d found my soul sister.
We’d met, at 19 & 17 respectively, through friends in a band and we’d just immediately started hanging out together, joined at the rock & roll hip in a whirlwind of nightly gigs, dope smoking, and raging of all descriptions. She told me later that day that I’d been a role model for her: self-assured, wordly, wise.
I had to laugh: I was only two years older than her, but I suppose I had already left home and moved 2,000 kms away from family and friends, not through any need to leave a bad situation behind or anything, it was more of a 'let’s see what adventures will come if I walk through this door', I suppose, and a little bit of Zazie In Wonderland ensued.
We drifted apart later as she threw herself into her acting dream, and I was just hanging out on no particular path except having fun… and finding out that she'd made it was the grandest pleasure of the day. She’d ended up in plenty of prime time dramas, and finally 17 years of treading the boards in London’s West End before returning home to care for her sick mother.
It was as though time had yanked us to the beginning, a couple of young souls, beginning their journey through the rock & roll/ theatre grit and grime that had etched a hundred experiences on our faces. I also hadn’t been idle for too long in the meantime: I’d worked in various roles for four different record companies both here and abroad, so while she was honing her skills on Prisoner I went from the sublime to the ridiculous, from Warehouse parties and E to au-pairing, broke and friendless in Paris then working my way up to being the International French Music Export Assistant at Polydor Paris. Natch!
A few years before landing in Paris I had been the dance music co-ordinator with Virgin Records in Sydney, working my arse off, and partaying, to make the classic MARRS, Pump Up the Volume their first Australia No1 dance track in the 80s. That was a big moment. Then I moved on again.
It seems to be a recurring theme in my life... just when I am comfortable and everything is going swimmingly I go completely off the track, finding myself in a different city every two years, with a different culture, language or even relationship. At times, broke, depressed and really scratching my head as to why I constantly did this, I came to realise that it is merely me testing my abilities to cope with nothing, the bare bones, using my wits, my nous, weeding out my frailties and honing my strengths, and these self-inflicted trials have molded the complicated person I am today (whom I quite like and only on occasions detest).
And so the spliffs, chat, drinking and stories continued into early evening, with people drifting in and out of the party and each other’s past and future lives. I had become woven into the thread that was tying this group together. It was a powerful feeling to have spent the afternoon with this eclectic but homogenous group of brilliant souls.
http://zaziecc.blogspot.com.au
