OK, so the girl is back. Not THAT girl, the one I loved, but the other one. The one I should have loved. And I don't know how I feel. I don't know how I SHOULD feel, either, but that's a different issue. It's not like emotions routinely come with moral imperatives attatched. I ran into a friend of mine the other day, while avoiding doing real work at the library. Tracey was the one that introduced Mel and I, and has been an important part of both our lives. Mel just got back from London a few weeks ago, and arrived here in Auckland last week. It took me a whole week from the time I saw Tracey until I had the time to sit down and call her, and to find out that Mel wanted to catch up, but hadn't left a pjone number for her new flat, just an address. Seeing as it was just around the corner from MY new flat, I decided, quite uncharacteristically, to simple drop by, as I was in the neighbourhood. Which is where I've just come from. Hence my discombobulated state of mind. I had been thinking about this all week. Naturally, in the dark and musty recesses of my loins dwelt a fantasy that we'd take one look at each other and begin tearing clothes off in a fit of passion, but equally another more pragmatic element of my physiology was muttering dire warnings that the problems that had arised during our time together would not likely have been dissolved by time. As a compromise, my spleen decided that the best possible outcome was contingent upon her having gained an enormous amount of weight, or suffered some hideously disfiguring accident. When she opened the door....you forget, I think. As a defense mechanism, you forget quite what those you once cared for look like. This means that when you see them again after such a long absence, it's like seeing them for the first time. Mel was even more beautiful than I remembered. She'd lost a little weight, if anything, that she'd been trying to lose when I knew her. She looked absolutely fantastic. So, we spent an hour in the as-yet-unfurnished dining room, drinking coffee and "catching up". And then I left, and now....I really don't know. I guess you're not supposed to. *********************************************** On to lighter things....last weekend some friends and I spent three days on Waiheke Island, a 45 min ferry ride from Auckland. Bunch of hippies live there, basically, which is why we love the place. Had intelligent discussions about responsible statistics, racism and penis size; went to the nudey beach and got burnt all over; had a magical night on the beach, almost ending in us getting trapped by the tide, but actually ending in a nudey swim in the phosphoresent water and a feast on the beach under the stars, complete with bawdy folk songs. Magic. *********************************************** And I've officially become THE MOST PATHETIC PERSON ON SINISTER. Last week I signed up for one of those internet dating sites. I don't know what more can possibly be said about that. Except it involved the aforementioned dancer, who drove me around Auckland trying to figure out if I was her type or not. I wasn't. As an unintended consequence, I got a really good pic taken of me and digitised, so I've sent it in to Honey. Not that Sinister is a dating club. Although I STILL haven't recieved a single list crush yet. (Dirty Vicar Ian, you must lend me some of that cologne. If it works for you, maybe it'll work for me, too.....) ************************************************ Speaking of list crushes (and to segue like Mel Torme) I got a Sillustration done about me! Well, me and Hannah Brown. I feel so spesh. Meery meet, merry part and merry meet again Sinistereens, Cunning Andre +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+