27 March 2006

Tropical, with extra palm trees

So, Cyclone Larry didn't blow us away. The whole area is fucked, but amazingly, no one died (as far as I know).
The only real way this will affect us personally, is through the collapse of the banana industry. Up here in the north, we have to get all our fresh food and refrigerated stuff like milk from down south. It comes up on trucks, and those trucks go back down laden with bananas. Without the bananas, freight will rise, and we'll be paying a heap more for food. With no bananas.

Oh well. Where I lived before, the bushfires fucked us up on a regular basis. Now I'm in cyclone country. Shit happens.

There's a few things I've noticed since coming up here.

1. NO ONE wears a hat. Except me. Why doesn't anyone wear a hat up here? Or a shirt with sleeves? Doesn't anyone but me get sunburned here? Doesn't anyone worry about cancer? One in two of us up here will get it.

2. On face value, the people here don't seem much different than the people down south. What's really different is nature. Yes, the tropics makes stuff tropical. The birds, the trees, the insects, the geckos, the fruit bats - all different. The insects are huge and mean.

3. We still have possums around our house. They're much bolder and sit on the veranda at night. The light doesn't worry them and I can go up close. They eat our pawpaw but they have to fight the fruit bats for it. I'll get a photo when I can be arsed.

4. The palm tree is everywhere. No, I'm not talking about the ones growing in the ground. It's the symbolism of the palm tree that's everywhere. "We're in the tropics - you know it because there's a palm tree on our letterhead/signpost/billboard/numberplate!" We look out for ones with the palm tree and the word tropical. If you can squeeze in the word paradise you win the trifecta.

I don't think they realise that palms are the least distinguishable plant up here. No one's bothered to tell them that palm trees grow everywhere! The strangler figs, the mangroves, the funny things with the air roots are all much more interesting. And we don't get them down south. But palms - shit, we were nearly on the snow line and we had palms.

Let's keep quiet. It makes them feel special and tropical to have palms. Don't tell them that we get palms down south in the temperate zone. I don't know what the shock would do to the town.

20 March 2006

Happy as Larry

By the way, we're ok after the cyclone. It's still raining and a bit windy, but all is well for us. Everyone's still assessing the damage.

More on that later.

The things we do...

I've been trying to catch up with all the blogs I read. Fuck, you people are too prolific! It's taking some time and there's heaps of good posts I'd have liked to comment on, but it's a bit late now...
However something I found on Leela's blog fits in with what I wanted to write today.

She asked, "What are you willing to sacrifice for eternal love?"

My first thought was, well I've just sacrificed my home, my family and friends, my hobbies, my work... but that's not really true. It was Partner's idea to move, sure, but he said he'd stay if I didn't want to go, and anyway I'd been planning to move before I met him (just not to here). So I can't say I sacrificed it for him really. More for myself, my own self-development and desire to experience new things.

But there is something I've sacrificed for eternal love. (Although eternal is not a word I'm comfortable with... Maybe true love is more accurate?)

When I'm with a man, I think about girls all the time. I perve on them. I fantasise about them. But if I was with a girl, I'd think about men all the time. We all want what we don't have at times, and this is no different.

So I've had to make a choice in my life. I've had to choose between monogamy and active bisexuality. Now, of course I can't choose to not be bisexual. Sometimes I've wished I could. It would certainly make things easier if I just liked men or women. But I can choose monogamy, which means not acting on my desire for the other side of the fence.

When I got with Partner we discussed all this. He said he didn't feel he could ask me not to sleep with women, since that's something he obviously can't satisfy for me. But nevertheless, we're both into monogamy. Hence the dilemma.

The good thing is, we're both able to perve on girls together. And we have discussed the idea of adding someone to the mix one day... but I know that it's so rare for feelings not to get hurt in that situation, and I don't want to risk the intimacy we have. I want to experience intimacy as deeply as possible, and I think for me that is best done in the context of monogamy.

It's all been academic until now anyway. I haven't been with a girl for a few years now- lack of opportunity. Girls are fading into the distance of memory,and I've been living the hetero life.

But a couple of weeks ago a girl asked me out. And then the other day another girl asked me out.

"WHY???" I wailed to Partner. "Why now, when I've finally found someone I want to be monogamous with?"

"It's that new hairdo of yours. It makes you look like a militant dyke." And he rubbed my furry, shaven head.

15 March 2006

I like your old town better than your new town

Finally, I'm back on the internet.
It takes a while to sort everything out when moving. The last thing to be sorted out is my head.

I used to think my place was a large town, not really a city. Now compared with the very small town I'm in, it seems I came from a bustling metropolis.
I'd been itching to get out of my town for years. But of course, now it's taken on some sort of rosy glow, and looks like paradise from afar.

There's three reasons for that. One is missing my family and friends, no suprise there. Two is missing my favourite shops, and the food back home (Maegen, there's no cinnamon flavoured things AT ALL up here!). I miss the local things from back home, the beer and chocolate, the markets. The third thing is just not being settled here - not knowing where to go for things, still feeling our way around town.

It's the dislocation producing the effect - the sense that I've left, but somehow not yet arrived. I'm seeing my old place in new ways, appreciating the things I always took for granted and all that shit. That's cool. What I haven't done yet is built up a mental map of this place, its people and its stories. Until I do that, I will feel that sense that I'm floating above it all, not engaging with the place at all.

Luckily, I like this town more than I thought I would. When we arrived I got a sense of the spirit of the place, and it felt welcoming. I feel good here - just isolated. We've been so busy we haven't gone out much. Just concentrated on each other, and on settling in.

And thanks to those loyal readers who kept checking in every few days! Glad you didn't forget about me. I'll definately post more often now I'm back on line.