I don't know if I've mentioned my fabulous boyfriend Peter, and his, well...fabulousness? Well, while life is sorting itself out (see the last squillion posts) I'm just getting through life basically. Simply. Keeping my head down. And that means saying, or at least thinking 'no' to a lot of things. Peter is a gem for a lovely gesture. And knowing that David Sedaris was in town and how ace I think he is, he bought a couple of tickets so I could go along with a friend.
Wow. So last night, with many other people in Melbourne, my friend Morfia and I trotted off to Hamer Hall to see him speak. Walking in we discovered a small, unassuming man, sitting behind a table signing books. We grabbed a glass of champagne to settle the nerves, and joined the queue. It is an odd thing to stand in front of someone you're a bit in awe of, and try to think of something to say. And this gentle, laid-back man looked at me and began to sign my book. 'Andy...that's a good name'. He then began to draw. He looked at me and said 'I bet you're a cat person'. Ok, now I'm usually covered in cat hair at the best of times, but I had wondered how upon meeting me, he had picked it. He then looked at Morfia as he signed her book, 'and I bet you're a dog person'. Spot on! How was it that from a quick observation he had sensed these things about us. We've been wondering all day how he knew.
With our books signed and glasses empty, we took our seats. And such joy was had. To hear his stories read, with the author's own inflection, pauses, warmth and humour was an experience. One minute we were laughing, tears streaming down cheeks, at the absurdity of the human condition and the situations we find ourselves in. The next, we were marvelling at his turn of phrase to describe the beauty of our surrounds, the gentle observation of a life less lived, or the glory of the everyday. With one line read, the tone of the room changed completely. This was what it was like to be in the presence of someone who loves people, language and experiences. Someone who has lived a diverse and eventful life. Someone who takes in everything around him, and takes the beautiful in equal stride with the ridiculous.
As we walked back to the car, beaming from such an amazing night, I felt like I was looking at the world differently. The evening was a reminder that life does flash by too fast sometimes, and we should be more aware of where we find ourselves, and who we find ourselves with. In years gone by, I have had moments where I've had little money and a few tough times, but it made me appreciate the small things. The feeling of warm sun on your back on a chilly day, a great cup of coffee, the seasons (and we get plenty of those in Melbourne), the city lights reflecting on the yarra river at night, the smell of salty air, how it feels to be hugged properly or the purr of my cats first thing in the morning as I wake up.
Writing in this blog has helped me process and think though many things. I have needed this greatly, as somehow things click together in my head, as I'm writing. But the woes of my Ex aren't how I define my life. They are by no means all I see. And perhaps I need to write about other things occasionally. For I am certainly observing and appreciating them. Last night was the best reminder, not only for my love of clever, witty observational writing, but also my love of life. And that's a pretty good night out.