Duty called first as I visited my neighbourly polling centre to register my vote in the four yearly State election. As Andrew astutely observed, revealing an astonishing memory for the minutiae of my life, I didn't have far to travel. Just next door actually as my polling place is the Church Hall adjacent to my apartment building. Even so I had to scramble to locate my umbrella fearing that I would be caught outdoors queueing in the rain to register my vote. There is almost always a queue to enter the polling centre because I always vote early to get it over with (or more precisely so I don't forget to do so should I let the day go by first) but for the first time in my memory there was no queue whatsoever.
Nor were there many party volunteers offering how to vote slips for their preferred candidates. My seat is so blue ribbon conservative that the parties waste no resources on it at the best of times and certainly as it turned out not yesterday when a landslide change to the conservative opposition was expected and indeed later realised.
The vote itself should only have taken a matter of seconds given that in NSW we have optional preferential voting for state elections so that lazy people like me only need to mark '1' for our preferred candidate and not continue down to 636 or however many candidates are standing. That it took me nearly a minute to register my '1' can be put down entirely to the very attractive man voting in the adjoining booth. I simply had to stop and admire how beautifully his body profile filled out his khaki army style pants and the black torso hugging t-shirt he was wearing on such a cool nipple enhancing day. Now where was I? Ah yes, the third candidate from the top.
Having completed my civic duty my next task was to stop in at my local centre to purchase a gift. I was invited to a 'catch up and pergola viewing' at Mk and Rs' place. Mk is a theatre going acquaintance of mine. We met online some years back in a certain type of Internet chat room and eventually found the courage to meet in person for 'a date'. It didn't really work out 'datewise' although we gave it a go for a few more months as we pursued a shared interest in movie and theatre going. After a while Mk started to meet other men of a certain persuasion from Internet chat rooms and after numerous disastrous encounters he finally met Rs, fell in love, moved in and yes they now share a new pergola together that just has to viewed by their friends.
So back to the gift buying. I tend to bring bottles of wine to gatherings of this nature but buying one is a very stressful business for me as I am not a drinker and really have no inkling what constitutes a good red or white. I'm still scarred with embarrassment by the reaction to the wine I brought to Mk's 50th birthday dinner. The wine was served to other guests pre-dinner one of whom, assuming Mk had selected it, shrieked with laughter and ridiculed how 'bloody awful and unsuitable' it was. Turns out my gift was a dessert wine, sickly sweet, but I had not understood that from the label and Mk had not bothered to check before serving it. Anyway this time I purchased what I hoped was a safe white and a box of fancy chocolates just for insurance and off I went to the 'catch up and pergola viewing'.
Even though I arrived fifteen minutes after the invited time I was the first guest to arrive and stood around like the discarded boyfriend I actually was whilst the lovebirds flitted around putting the finishing touches on their hospitality. Stilted conversation filled the gaps until mercifully other guests started to arrive. The next dozen or so were all teachers at the same school where Mk teaches. I was more the outsider than ever as 'teacher talk' dominated for the next 45 minutes whilst incomprehensible references to lunch 1 and lunch 2, teaching periods and the like ping-ponged around the room. What's more one of those teachers was the very same guest who had ridiculed my wine gift years earlier and whether or not she recalled the event she ignored me completely not even acknowledging me during the guest introductions. I took refuge in repeated viewings of the pergola as each arriving guest in turn was taken on their inspection tour. Eventually some guests who I had met previously arrived but even that proved an embarrassment when a nice lady who had sat next to me through Mk's birthday dinner years earlier told me that I looked vaguely familiar but she could not recall who I was.
After a decent period had passed and I could no longer view the pergola without inviting ridicule that I must be experiencing pergola envy I thanked my hosts for their hospitality and made my departure.
Next stop was the cemetery; not as you might think to end it all but to visit my mother's grave as yesterday was the first anniversary of her death. It was a very quiet day for a Saturday at the cemetery and the gloomy atmosphere the weather provided was just like those funeral scenes in Hollywood movies.
And so to home for a quiet Saturday night in front of the telly. Not much on view except for the gloomy (or joyful, depending on your political viewpoint) election night count and reporting. Right on 8.30pm I remembered it was Earth Hour and so I turned off my lights and with that turned off my view, pergola and all.
One year already. Amazing.
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