Tuesday, December 16, 2003

in the internet cafe

Bondi Junction, getting dark outside.

So I've moved into this little room on the second floor of a boarding house filled with other young travellers. Its a small one, but cute and suits the purpose. There is a bed, and a light, and shelves and a desk with a world map lacquered on it. A wardrobe for my clothes. A chair for sitting. My window opens wide and looks out onto Bondi Road, and the house is at the (very noisy) corner of Bondi, Oxford, Syd Enfield and Old South Head Road. It is a corner comparable the the one of Oxford and Robie and some other ones, in Halifax.

Anyway. Work goes well. I glaze and load kilns and 'dispatch' (wrap pottery and pack it into boxes along with biodegradable packing peanuts) and then go home at 5. Yu Pa and Sup talk in Thai all day long and Maddie and I talk in English, when we feel like talking. Mercury plays Fbi radio in the next room and various hip hop records. Shelley (the boss) walks around talking to herself. Manot (who is 4) zooms around on his scooter, among shelves 4-high with trays of precarious porcelain pots, and its a wonder there aren't any accidents.

Jacky will move in with me on Friday, we'll move to a double room one house over, smaller place with fewer room-mates and hopefully less mess. Then (again, hopefully, the only way one deals with the future, really) Jacky will get a job in the area and we'll live without too much stress for a bit.

So life is good. I mean, there have been stresses, but I think those are hard to avoid. Today after work Maddie and I went to the beach and I swam and then lay on my towel and let my hair dry, caked with salt. It was lovely.

I think of home often, of the fact that this is December 16th and that means the smell of snow in the air and Christmas trees being cut down and put up. Here, it means people on the beach in red and white bathing suits and santa hats. How bizarre.

To Eli: is that good?

Love you all.

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