The Sunshine Coast: The Party

August 22nd

Peter -- Tom's neighbor -- is having one of the full day shindigs he's known for, kicking off with his famous pancakes (I think the secret's in the sesame seeds). The main room is set up with a huge assortment of instruments, amps, and mics. People rotate between playing and socializing on the deck.

The general consensus on my neck is that the pain has emotional roots. Tears that spring up when Malika, a former massage therapist, tries her hand at it, seem to also point in that direction.
And here I am, on a sunny Saturday, surrounded by a group of beautiful women of all ages I've only just met. The men are inside playing music. Bobbie has her arm around my shoulder and Sue leans over to tell me she has chocolate.

***

After the sun goes down, the party continues and I head over to Tom's place for dinner, wine and Internet. I watch as he makes a what-do-I-have-in-the-cupboard on-pot tuna pasta; we have rather similar cooking styles. He starts serving it up and pauses mid-spoonful, "You do eat fish, right?"

I grill him about growing up in East Germany, about what it was like being a teenager when the wall came down. I head off before 10am: an early night as Tom has to be up for the farmers' market by 4am. Tom, it's not a far walk, I'll be fine. No, it's a nice night, I want to walk.

En route, I call my folks and, slightly intoxicated, rave on and on to my dad about how big the sky is here. I mean, BIG! And speculate on the constellations I'm looking at. And whether Venus is still considered the Morning Star in the Southern Hemisphere. And how can people navigate without Polaris. How?!

Meanwhile, Kellie has arrived home from work to find me not there. And has learned, upon speaking to Tom, that I'm on my way ("You let her walk?!"). She calls once. No answer (I'm talking to my parents). She leaves a message. She calls again: no answer (I'm likely mid-rant about how The Southern Cross has nothing on The Big Dipper) and leaves another message. By the time I get to the apartment, she's getting her keys so she can drive around to find me.

I feel bad that my insistence on walking caused her undue worry. And try to make up for it by telling her how big the sky is here.
I mean, Really Big!