12 August 2009

By the time we’d had our potato pizzas

Saw my good friend T on Friday night at a meal round J and M's. Mine and T's has been a strange friendship over the years. We’ve known each other since the days we used to DJ together on the free party scene in the early 90’s. We amalgamated Heights of Pleasure and tVC and have been DJing together ever since. We’ve both been through a lot over the years and I’d like to tell you T’s story one day but this day is not the day to do that.

These guys, our friends J and M, are two teachers but J has become so disillusioned with teaching he’s thinking of giving it all up. To do what, he doesn’t know. All he does know is he doesn’t want to do what he’s doing. Which is fair enough. This is worrying his partner a bit. I think she has nothing to worry about as he’s bound to find something, other than selling ceramic pigs on eBay and taking his two lolloping Labradors out walking in the countryside, that he enjoys.

So we sat there on their leather sofas in their brand new kitchen drinking fine wine waiting on our food which was being cooked by M's exquisite foody hands. We’d done this so many times and will do it again so many times that the relaxed atmosphere is rarely forced and the naturalness of this has us all talking about what is dear to our hearts. Well, all except me of course because I don’t really know how to talk about how I feel with regard to love in my life as I’m always so confused and feel so rejected, dejected and abandoned by all the women in my life from my mother onwards that I rarely feel that ‘things are right’. Let alone anything that prompts me to want to talk about them to others.

So, I talk about work and big it up a bit even though I’m just as dejected about the grind of teaching as J is but wouldn’t dare say because that may signify that my life is not as I want it and that I’m just like everyone else who has painted themselves into a corner and can’t get out because of the fear of failure or the fear of making the wrong decision and how it would waste years of getting good at your job and doing all those professional qualifications and all for what? To retrain and go into another profession that would probably instil the same emotions in you a few years down the line as your current job does.

By the time we’d had our potato pizzas, green bean with onion and pasta and salad and also quaffed down several bottle of nice red wine it was getting on for midnight and J was yawning on the sofa which of course means its time to go as nobody wants to be hanging around when one of the hosts is fast asleep in your company. I left with a promise to invite the crew to my next curry night where we’ll hopefully talk a bit more and you never know; I might actually feel close and trusting of someone enough to talk about my feelings to them?

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