Les Teutons a Dullsville
C: I'm f***ed. having career crisis no. 44444444444444449. Will be teacher to pidgin speaking migrants, adult literacy weirdos or slow learners for rest of my life. H E L p ? Like the holidays/pay is shit and students can be endearing and bloody painful at the same time.
Husband is suffering PMT crisis again-its that time of the month-I wish he'd take some bloody evening primrose.
Goodnight.
O:
Indeed the age old debate of who really gets PMT has begun for the month. Wife in denial as usual. We had a fight this evening probably because of Cilla's career crisis. We nearly throttled each other but I must say I was the calmer of the two. Something strange happened. In my muted rage I subconciously began peeling a cucumber. As I peeled, my rage subsided slightly. By the time I had finished dicing it I was totally at peace with the world. What is going on? Why after inconspicuous absence do cucumbers keep popping up?
Work ok, students fine. I can't seem to hate my job as much as C. Saw glasses man, I think he is sincere. Saw cool dark glasses man from a distance and realised that I had forgotten to mention that he wears beige slacks up to his chest and faded old polo shirts. I actually think he must be a nice person.
C: What is all this cucumber shit? I think he's having a "Oh my GOD I'm almost 30itis" How it's related only Freud could tell you.
O: I'm sorry Cilla but I think this is deeper.
O:
Nackered. Daughter wailing about something or other. I think she wanted to go to sleep holding one of her bugs.
Went shopping after work. Saw one of my students a Chinese woman. I had bought fruit and vegies. She said hello to me but seemed more interested in the large cucumber that was in prominent display on top of the shopping basket. What is it about cucumbers lately? Honestly I don't harbour any particular fetish for them but apparently a lot of people do. They're food that's all.
Work was ok except for the student with the hearing aid. Actually he's really nice but he has a few annoying habits. Whenever I go to check his work he gives me the so so act. He frowns slightly and gives me the so so wave, a lateral hand movement with the hand shifting slightly from side to side. At first I appreciated his modesty but after fifty times that gesture is starting to give me the shits. It shouldn't because he's so nice but it does. Then he starts talking to me about his hearing aid. I tell him "Fuck man I know sometimes the battery gets flat, or it's not working properly, don't worry about it, and above all stop telling me about it." I do this using a form of muted body language and to the casual observer it looks like I'm smiling and saying "No Worries." in my ho ho ho teacher's voice.
I also saw Vietnamese glasses man today. I've never taught him but we always say hello because as with most Vietnamese students he's very friendly. He says hello by stooping down to peer into my face with his big glasses and saying "HI". I can't tell whether he's sincere or making fun of me. He has a friend who I call 'cool dark glasses man'. He's just started giving me the nod. He wears red tinted dark glasses and has a pencil line mustache. He has a sort of psuedobowl cut that is spiky on the bottom. I've never seen him smile but nowadays his lips rise slightly when he nods hello. Honestly I think he could have been a spy during the Vietnam war and never dropped his persona. A few of my students did work for intelligence mainly on the losing side.
Nothing much going on in the home front. In fact I see more cars than people on our street. It's as if we're a an obscure human family inhabiting a street of house dwelling cars. I blame the Howard government. Fucking Liberals.
Sat 21 Feb, Dullsville
O:
"Orlando, your intuition has come to fruition." said my wife Cilla.
In the chaos of Woolworths, bright lights, dowdy mums and Rod Stewart's "Sailing", I managed to work out that I was craving cucumber. This was the result of liver crisis. I felt waves of nausea as I tried to figure out the line that would move quickly. But the thought cucumber soothed me.
C:
Liver crisis smisis. He's always going on about those. Between the two of us there's always an impending crisis either with health, our marriage... " I can't handle you syndrome" which kicks in monthly and "I need my own space-itis" which stems largely from the exceedingly demanding but cute demands from our 3 year old. She's like a little vampire. She breastfed for eons, she only started sleeping through the night a few months ago and she sucks knowledge out of us in a relenting manner always asking why? why? why?
Where we once would have used cucumbers in the bedroom now they are now purely functional. Now we're too tired for the cucumber mumba rumba.
We heard from our friends in New York. They asked us what do we do in dullsville. I just emphasised the spiritual journey we're going on saying we're real health and tantric freaks and we look like the fountains of youth. I made Dullsville sound really glamourous and made them question their hedonisitic ragey lifestyle. You gotta get them on the backfoot. Talk up parenthood-say how spiritual it is and make there life seem shallow and boring, otherwise they think they are these invincible rock sex gods and try and make out that we are cross eyed peasants.
O:
Admittedly we do live among cross eyed peasants, or rather sterile careerists living up John Howard's dream. They don't make noise, don't seem to have any vices, rarely smile, and earn limitless amounts of money with which to work on home improvements. While I couldn't give a rat's arse, Cilla seems strangely intimidated by these folk, particularly their smug air of superiority.
