Saturday, June 30, 2007

Blue Moon

Blue Moon
You saw me standing alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own
Blue Moon
You know just what I was there for
You heard me saying a prayer for
Someone I really could care for

- Hart and Rodgers
'Blue Moon'

An overdose of blue moon, beer, bears, bites, bruises, bois and boys appears to have left me feeling flatter and more paranoid than I have been in quite a while. Went out last night with a couple of likely lads that I had promised to show the trashier parts of Sydney- Newtown, Bears at Flinders, Manacle. Drank a lot, schmoozed about with a squillion furry friends, waffled about piercings and pervy shows, smoked too many ciggies and then they toddled off into the night. Foolishly and drunkenly I stayed behind, hanging out with a naughty young boy and various leather folk and when Manacle closed we hit Stonewall and then The Oxford. Ended up draging the boy home and... which from my hazy memory was quite pleasant and probably quite neccessary. Woke up late and alone with the room in as much chaos as my mind and crawled to lunch with some buddies and just sat staring into space shivering next to the big gas heater and wondering what had hit me...

Of course, as my mayhemic mate pointed out much of my malaise may be to do with the grieving process and getting through the funeral and anniversary this week. But I really thought I was handling it all quite well? Maybe not. Also the house situation is freaking me out more than a little, with NattieTheFlattie going this weekend (she was one of my main sources of mutual cups of tea and sympathy) and I really don't know whether to stay or go and it all just seems like so much hassle. Need to organise washing machine and internet and phone and blah blah blah. Stompy grumpy Zoo.

Or maybe its more than that. Have obviously gotten myself back in the saddle of late (with a vengeance and 5 folk since last Saturday) and its possible I'm not quite ready to go riding again, or at least should be starting off with a trot rather than a gallop. I've spooked myself good and proper, and whilst it is DELIGHTFUL to be pierced and shagged and to hit cute bois with batons and let my fingers do some walking and be cuddled and kissed (oooh, those kisses!) and bitten and bruised I find it a really scary situation too in some ways. I'm not ready for a relationship I know, but this casual stuff can be so much harder! Constantly negotiating from scratch, constantly risking rejection, constantly having to work out how to read the other person, constantly wondering 'should I use 'Sir' or 'M'aam'?'. Its an exhausting and very risky business for a fragile Zoo to be venturing into. I think it is often assumed that because encounters are casual they are not emotionally or spiritually intimate, but sometimes a fling for a few moments or days can leave you reeling for a long time afterwards...

And there there is something about some playpartners in particular that also makes me want to hold hands and cuddle and spend hours slowly kissing and wander about museums and go for walks in the rain together and this is a much more tricky minefield to navigate. To be clear, its not a case of being all mushy and in lurve per se, as its not really directed at an individual person but more that spending time together doing some of the above has made me crave more intimacy in my life. A few nights spent sleeping wrapped up in someone else has reminded me how much I still miss having a partner, someone to keep me be warm and that regular skin-to-skin contact. You know, someone to share a life with, not just as mates but as the one you come home to every evening and the one who remembers your birthday and who's snoring drives you crazy and who buys you flowers when you are sad. It occurred to me at the funeral the other day that if I died right then I would leave no grieving widow, and even though that is hardly a measure of anything really I suppose somehow realising that made me feel... I don't know... unloved? Unspecial? Pathetic? Like a lonely old spinster?

Not quite sure how I am going to pull myself out of this one. I don't want to go home to the dirty sheets on the empty bed. Hmm. Lay off the booze for a bit again. Tidy my room. Buy a big warm blankie to snuggle up with. Spend time with friends. Work on shows. Blog. Wait patiently for it to pass. Go to Madam Phantasm's for pizza and heater and TV watching.

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