Grant claims to know "where the party's at" - I have my doubts

My sisters Christmas present arrived. They were 5 shiny new knives.

There's a serated one I used to cut through mushrooms. I cut delicately. It cut exquisitely.

I emailed my sister and told her "it was the perfect gift for people very hard to buy for".

*

There's a red sore on my left arm. I thought it was a pimple but its been there for too long. I cant remember injecting there and yet it sits right on the vein - right where I would inject. Ive picked at it a few times, it contains no puss. Before I went at it with a pin and broke the top. I had blood pouring down my arm. I cacked, it would have looked tragic. If its not gone in a week or two I will have to get it checked out.

*

Mum and I left for Brisbane.

We picked Grant up on the way. His Mum was a haggard, menthol smoking bitch just like mine.

The 4 hour trip was entirely filled with conversation. Mainly between Grant and I. No Grant talking to me. No, wait let me clarify again....Grant talking to me about what a big shot he is on the Melbourne Gay Club Scene. It was boring, but typical of any gay boy who spends too much time on the scene......they lose perspective on just what a small pond it really is.

Even still it was a nice to have my Mum hearing about all the dumb shit that happens on 'the scene'. Two of my worlds were coming together - my family world and my gay world. So often I think gay people feel like they have seperate selves - their old self, the self they show around family and at workl - and the new self, the little identity we invent when we come out and have to integrate into the vicous gay world. Here it was together. I was reminded of a dream i'd had the other night. Another dream about animals. There were wallabies and dogs. This time the dog was my pet molly and she played with the wallabies. There was no killing, no blood, no conflict....it was uncertain harmony. As we drove down the Bruce Highway through lush fields and gorgeous jungle I felt a strange sense of wholeness, as if somehow things could work out.

We got into Brisbane and arrived at the backpackers. As soon as Grant left Mum started.

"Do you think Grant is bit full of shit?"

"I dont think so, why" I asked.

"Oh some of his stories seem like crap"

"mmmm."

"And the way he keeps going on about those people on the gay scene, you'd think they were celebrities or something."

"A lot of gay guys are like that"

"Well when Grant was going on about it, I thought, you are one sad case. Who cares if you know a DJ? or a drag queen?"

"The gay scene is prententious like that, its actually pathetic. Grant's ok tho."

"Yeah I like him, I just think he's a sad sorry case. He makes out he's this really hip, popular guy who has guys falling all over him. But I have my doubts"

"Really, why"

"He's a bit dorky. And he's not just not very good looking, the guy is actually ugly"

"He's not ugly" I said laughing.

"Well I think he is"

"Mum, ur being a bit harsh"

The conversation stopped and we both started trying on outfits for New Years Eve. Mum had never been to a gay club before. I was intrigued to see what would happen.