Horse Riding Fisher-Woman

In Melbourne I’d found myself in the habit of socialising until late at night then waking up before the sun, unable to go back to sleep, excited about life in this city and its infinite possibilities. I shopped, went to a go-go dancing class, had a picnic in the park, played board games and ate delicious meals home cooked by vegan weightlifters. I wore short skirts, revealing low cut tops and all the outrageous things I wouldn’t be able to wear when I went back to the desert. I was constantly excited and simultaneously exhausted from lack of sleep, popping Vitamin B tablets like there was no tomorrow.

Then one day I went on what I thought was a date. It wasn’t. Like an angsty teen I lay on the futon in my friend’s spare room, plugged my ears into some sad songs and wrote some sad bad poetry. I was angry and embarrassed that I’d lead myself on and for even thinking there was ever anything there. Men never seemed to follow the scripts I wrote for them in my head, my day dreaming was becoming dangerous. Then that night, I slept. For a solid ten hours.

The next day I didn’t get out of bed until 2pm. My godmother had given me a ridiculous floral top, which has a tail and back flaps that float around when I spin. It’s totally over the top and I never wear flowers. But hey, it’s 2013! Why not?* I wore it with a leather jacket, pants, shoes appropriate for dancing and red lipstick and went op shopping.

I was gunna Get Back On The Horse. There Are Plenty More Fish In The Sea. I was going to canter along on that damned horse whilst casting my fishing rod out into a nearby river. Or I was sitting on a horse on a fucken fishing trawler. But before I saddled up and returned to life as a horseriding fisherwoman, I ate Mexican food and Sangria with my girlfriends and rocked up to the Bella Union Trades Hall. I’d only been dancing for about 20 minutes when who should tap me on the shoulder with a massive surprised grin on his face?

Tent Guy.

To be continued.

*So far this ‘It’s 2013! Why not?’ philosophy has seen me eat calamari and squid, wear high heels and consider karaoke.


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