2002

the end of another year. 2002. i always seem to manage to fill my years with enough excitement and interesting events, that there is a lot to reflect upon as the year draws to a close.

looking at my rat ladies, my fatboy, and my brand spanking new babies, there's one of the biggest changes and events right there - my rats. only about half a year ago it was that i asked Glyn to drive to the north shore with me, to the Jansens pet shop, and left with my beautiful Adam and Steve, and the thrill of having my very own pets. i remember those first few weeks, everything being new and exciting, to them and to me - their first sweetcorn, pasta tubes, tunnels. building their huge cage, making hammocks and carpets. then rescuing my sweetlings, my little rascals. seeing Jonathan with her mother and sister in that horrible tiny dirty cage, and my gorgeous Goliath and darling David when they got the ones that "aren't quite right". Aren't quite right my ass. they're the most perfect rats anyone could wish for - tender, affectionate, naughty, silly, loving, clever, beautiful and adorable. seeing how small and scared they were driving home in dad's car, letting them sniff the big ladies. putting everyone in the big cage, and seeing adam and steve being scared witless by these little intruders. then a few days later trying again, and just letting them be (remembering claire's advice - sometimes you must be cruel to be kind), and having everyone get on fine pretty soon. jonathan's lump, and the consequent stream of abcesses. the fright of what it might be, before i knew, and realising how dear she
was to me, as they all are, and how much i treasure them. all those numerous trips to the vet. steve's breathing troubles, still present now, although hopefully getting better.8**/// (goliath's helpful additions) and poor goliath's leg all swollen up, and the heartache of having to leave her at the vets for her anesthesized x-ray. and getting my lilith, my little fatboy, who's turning out quite the chubby and stupid bloke, all the while being cuddly and friendly and silly. he keeps getting beaten up by goliath, and squeaking miserably, but he also steals the girls' food, and hoards everything - he's a lovable pest. and today, taking my two babies home, after naming them during the day - little Frida, named for Frida Stark, because both were beautiful golden girls. and gorgeous Georgina, after Georgina Beyer, because both had a sex change (although in my rat babies' case, i simply mistook her for a boy at 2 weeks old). and at 8 rats, i think i'll stop, and this time, mean it. 8 rats is more than enough, but i am glad i have every single one of them, and i wouldn'ttrade them for anything in the world - they bring me so much joy and love, and make me smile more frequently than anything else.

so rats have been in my life, and also horses have re-entered it, and to an extent which i'd previously only dreamed of. looking back over the last 3 months, from that first bareback lesson on Aran with Tina, to making Luca 'my' horse and being superconfident on him, to Icis's lesson on Ginger, gallopping around and cruising over jumps without a moment's hesitation. lungeing horses, grooming horses, feeding horses, catching horses, yelling at horses, smooching with horses, learning about horses, discovering new things about horses, learning from them, listening to them, and talking to them, and reading about them... it never ends. and the more i do it, the more i realise that it never will - that this is what i have always dreamed of, and to good reason - that i am never more happy than when i am brushing dirt out of a horses' coat, or feeling that powerful body under mine, doing as i ask, or mixing up delicious-smelling food for them... always remembering faithful mantras of "thumbs up, heels down, look up, inside leg - outside rein, turn the body, thumbs up, heels down..." thinking faster than the horse, being ahead of it mentally. antici- ...............................pation.

making that huge decision of not going back to university, deciding on my terms after agonising over what other might say or think, and feeling the relief drain out of me in tears after finally deciding for sure. the happiness as i thank myself for listening to myself, and doing what is not just making me happy now, but what has always made me happy. being able to look forward to whatever i end up doing, because i'll be around horses, and i'll thus be happy. and meanwhile, dreaming of the future, dreaming of germany, of a pferdewirt ausbildung (and also nightmares of the loneliness, of leaving everyone behind), of world-class horses and trainers, and even far-reaching dreams of olympics dressage squares, of elegance in tophat and tails on a magnificent horse.

looking at myself in the mirror, looking tanned and lean and healthy, stronger than ever, the tough farmdyke still managing to look good (what am i saying? looking amazingly sexy - and vain as ever) in slinky dresses and sweeping skirts. forking out truckloads of woodshavings with a pitchfork, carrying a sheep under each arm across a few paddocks, and the legendary struggle with and consequent victory over the gate and those fucking hinges. and then drowning my phone, and getting mauled by vicious horses and rats. all in a day's work.

-++ (goliath again)

feeling tired, jaded, and old at times. moments of feeling drained, empty - complete solitude, that damn song again - "allein, wir sind allein, wir kommen und wir gehen ganz allein". but then seeing my rats, or some horses, and feeling young, and happy. i've been returning to childhood, rediscovering things i'd forgotten for years.

yet there were other things in this year - it goes further back than this recent surge of wonderful developments. there were two semesters of university, 4 productions in the maidment studio, friends made, relationships forged, and lovers enjoyed. there were even touching movies - Amelie, The Girl, Kissing Jessica Stein, Mulholland Drive, and of course The Two Towers. there was working at the shop, getting closer to Nich and cheering as he and Kirsten got together. jousting with graham, gossiping with brendan. theatre, and ups and downs with Lex. doing Antipasto, and the joy of rolling around the stage with Anne, versus having to keep a straight face while Simon, playing Hamlet to my Gertrude, thrusts away at me. daaaaaaaaahling glen backstage, who has seen me around uni ("you're the girl who wears those faaaaabulous dresses around campus!") and who would "kill for my legs" (seldom have i been so flattered). the thrill of backstage atmosphere, the spur-of-the-moment aye-saying to being Corpus Christi's sound tech, and the avalance this proved to be. intensely emotional (tears every night), very erotic (Richard and Craig, some of the sexiest moments i've ever witnessed, had me longing to be a gay man), and rather spiritual. still felt the guilt every time i made the hammering noises for the crucifixion. the beat of the disco, the laughter of lazarus, the wedding and the anger at the priests, and the hilarity of the last supper, and the anguish in gethsemane, and on the cross. dad coming to see it - and my tears as he did make it to the theatre, almost late, and my tearful endlessly glad smile as he laughed and clapped and enjoyed it. wow. the mad flirtatious sexy fun that was Le Bourgeouis Gentilhomme (with the gentle homies), after months of aggrevating rehearsals with rosemary. richard and nik, the other two queer musketeers. my handsome mustache, offset by my sexy corset. the chemistry with Chris, and becoming so close with him over Becky. that taught me something - don't always give in to chemistry - sometimes it's better denied, and always lusted for, but never satisfied. the serious, almost boring and also bitchy Sheer Silence - a chance to act, to be bitterly dark and menacing.

rupert and i clashing occasionally, still two hot-tempered people living under one roof, with a close and chequered history. coming to terms with being friends, both of us approaching and being able to meet, and meet well.

my long fling with patch, the biggest lapse in my lesbianism this year, though perhaps not the most significant. countless acts of blissful fornication. damn good sex with no mental or emotional connection at all, and one of the best examples of this being successful. it ended, as things tend to do, but it was good while it lasted.

and scott, tutor and lecturer, and mysterious intrigueing enigma, keeping me on my toes and out of breath on so many levels. drawing me near, then pushing me away, confiding, then distancing. an unending source of excitement, but simultaneously puzzlement and confusion. but always arousal, and brilliant flirtation. so much closer now (as close as can be after a mindblowing glorious fuck), but still distant and baffling. and as much as i long for clarity, for something more 'normal' or 'usual', i curse myself, knowing that this is part of the appeal, that the relationship wouldn't be the same on different terms. difficult - the relationship, the situation. and the person. but lovable.

my boys at home, laughing with them about anything and everything, all our in-jokes (zat's not funny! i don't get it!), very subtle friendly flirting, but also me being able to walk around topless at home, comfortably. wonderful. quake and dsl and endless pr0n and h4x0r and fark and slashdot and D&D and Bruce Ree frawress! (as rong as i know how to rove i know i'rr stay arive! and I rike traffic rights, especiarry when they're yerrow!) and w00t!

and stuff.

what a year. long and tiring. i've learnt things, i've grown - yada yada yada - and some lessons i'll forget, while others will stick well in my mind. i've made some plans, i have direction and focus, and a happy goal. i have my rats, my friends, and many more years to fuck things up and do great things in.