Full moon, but more than that.
On the coolest day this week the mercury hit 39. I ride around town eating hot air; it feels like i am sitting in front of a fan heater with my mouth open.
Even my eyes are overheating.
the heat beats me up. Each time I leave the office it punches me in the face then follows me everywhere, nagging, tugging, pulling, squeezing and slowly pushing me over until I get home and collapse in bed.
Today I lay down for a quick little nap and woke up two hours later. I missed soccer training, which didn't bother me. I had a shower, grabbed some vino and rode over to B's place with MIA's aching AND funky track about shanty towns in Africa, $20, on repeat to speed me up.
B was hosting a BBQ. The second one this week. She's hosting le frenchies too. The pick of the soccer crew were there too, which was good, because I like a lot of them, and bad, because I like a lot of them.
I ate some facon and salad and drank and chatted and caught up with someone I haven't spoken to properly in months. I'm glad we chat again.
The frenchies are trying their hardest to leave town. But town, and various components of their van's engine, are trying their hardest to make them stay. It would be good if they stayed one more night because we could climb a mountain in the full moon. If not, see them in France!
When I turned up my friend A was loitering in B's driveway. He asked if I was alright and I said I was tired, as usual. I said it was the heat. He said it could be the fact that I was the only one that hadn't left Alice in months and months. He's a clever one.
In my semi-conscious on-my-way-towards-sleep state this afternoon I had been thinking about how bloody long it has been since I was home. It is tiring. I miss everyone. I miss the coast. I miss secret spots in the city. I miss wanting to get out of the city! I miss not being constantly thirsty. I mean constantly, constantly thirsty. Thirsty when you go to bed. Drink a litre and then wake up thirsty. Drinking countless waters when I am out, not to slow down my intake of alcohol but to avoid fainting (not guaranteed to work).
Bring on Adelaide on March 2, and Sydney on March 14.
I rode down the highway then took the back way to the main strip. Bo's imitation saloon was pumping out the hits of yesteryear. The new swanky bar next door lured people willing to don a shirt for a night out. A drunk girl in a red dress had invited herself into a council security car in the mall. I rode across the elevated walkway over the river. The air was cool - such relief! - and smelled of fire. It is so dry my voice has dropped an octave, perhaps permanently.
I put $20 on again, sped up, and went past my house because the song hadn't finished.
mood: it was MIA and imitation meat...now sub audible hum's Toto cover and WATER
