consumed with what's to transpire

the other night, i went out with rach and a bunch of her friends from uni to celebrate finishing their degree. now vodka and i haven't been talking much lately (occasionally, she sends me a text message: "wanna meet for a drink this week?" i rarely respond) but we kissed a few times that night. she wanted more, but i did not. we're not through, it's just not a good time for dirty mistresses.

well, for me, anyway. everyone else got pretty smashed. this one guy, what you might call a "mature-age student" at 32, had finally finished after something like ten years of part-time study. and what else to do but spend the better half of the day racing to the bottom of pint after pint. i guess i would too. i'm assuming general opinion of this guy is the same whether he's drunk or sober, but particularly drunk, nobody was too excited to see him show up at the bar for another round and to take the opportunity to hit on anything with two legs, two breasts, and two of the same kind of chromosome. he was very particular in his tastes. oh, and engaged, fiance not present.

naturally, we got to chatting.

i said this not begrudgingly, because it's expected and understandable, but i've had the same conversation with almost every new person i've met here in australia. it's what happens when you're from somewhere else. you start with the basics. where are you from? how long have you been here? do you like it? have you traveled much? what are you doing here? in new york, there was the list of questions everyone asked about my going to australia in the first place. this is the new list of questions. funnily enough, both lists have the same general inquiry about what the hell i'm doing here.

and that's, of course, the one question i most definitely can not answer.

so while this guy was entirely wasted, he still managed to run through the list, and i started to go through all of my stock answers. i'm from new york, i've been here a little over three months now, sure it's been great but just a huge adjustment, i've been to sydney and cairns (cue small detour into "i was here two and a half years ago" and how i decided to come back), and what am i doing here? oh, i don't know. just working in food service, paying the bills, nothing special. traveling, maybe take some classes soon. writing. just figuring it out as i go along. (that old brown shoe.)

"wait a minute," he slurred. "you just throw 'writing' in there like its nothing. that's the most important thing you're doing here. y'know? so what are you doing here?"

i smiled. "yeah, i guess you're right. i'm here to write."

"yeah!" he said.

mind you, once he found out i was gay, he also threw his arm around my neck and asked if i wanted to kiss him (engaged, fiance not present). i think he did this twice. while i was flattered, i did not want to kiss him. he also, though a bit fumbly because of all the beer, tried to find a way to ask how melbourne is as a city to be gay in, and if i ever had any problems. the poor guy was doing his best to be interested and quite possibly concerned for my well-being, and surely now doesn't remember a second of that conversation, but i assured him i was okay.

eventually, he cut himself off the booze and decided it was time to go. this previously noted fiance was coming to pick him up. ("this is one of the things i never knew about gay relationships," he blathered to me at one point. "how do you have monotonous relationships when you're gay?....oh, i mean, monogamous. sorry, i'm confusing your relationship with mine." brilliant.) i don't think we had a proper goodbye, and he never got that kiss, but alas, i kept thinking about that conversation all weekend, and i'm here writing about it now.

insight shows up in the strangest of places. this drunk, lecherous, recent college graduate at 32 called me on my shit so quickly and so easily. he nailed it. "writing is the most important thing you're doing here." i'm, quite admittedly, not fond of the fact that i'm working in food service here. michael and i went to boost yesterday at lunch (this smoothie/juice bar in australia, for those in other parts of the world) and i said, "it could be fun to work here," and he said, "stop thinking these jobs are fun. aspire to something more, you're better than these jobs." and it didn't really register to me, i guess until the combination of both comments, that it seems in some way my focus is still a bit off here.

"the artist's way" would basically eat this admission for breakfast and ask for more, but it does come down to this: maybe i'm underestimating my reach a little.

this is, mind you, the understatement of the century for me. but it's a start. for a number of reasons, some of which will reveal themselves as i digest them more and eventually figure out what i want to commit to writing about in here, i'm thinking beyond australia these days. and trying to get a sense of what i'm doing in the near future and what direction i need to be going. not "want" or "should" or "might." it's a matter of need these days.

the "what are you doing?" question has gotten so much larger, but i wonder if perhaps the reason i haven't been able to answer it is because i've been too afraid to.

in actuality, i may sort of already know the answer.