The Year that Began on New Years

I was all class. I ended 2011 with a visit to the Nazari's where I indelicately ate a peach and talked about school with the kids. I cycled to a sophisticated gathering in Moonee Ponds, in an apartment building where the hosts wore kimono's. Then I made with the economics talk at my final destination with a media type from Broken Hill talking about the inherant risks of property and irrationality of the market.

I felt dizzy, like I'd been standing too long and I crossed the living room into the study where I discovered the air conditioner. And that at some point before midnight I'd managed to get drunk somehow, probably the plastic pineapples full of cocktails I'd been drinking.

Anyway I say I'd walked into the study where the airconditioner was, but I kind of walked into a chapter out of Catch-22. Chapter 16 my favorite chapter.

I don't even recall how it started, or whether I or somebody started it, but suddenly I was surrounded by Italians. Like Italians from Italy. And here's what I don't know who or how started it, but suddenly I was defending my accent.

This happens to me a lot. More frequently than I ever anticipated. It never happened to me in Ballarat, but afterwards, all the time. Every third person I meet asks me about my American accent.

I had learned to brush it off with my standard line 'I just watch too much television' but this wasn't washing over. Then the bella donna at the back of the room started attacking me over US foreign policy. I was like 'I grew up in Ballarat'

For some reason drinking unlocks the language center of my brain, and I started pulling out all (both) my italian phrases. I was still classy enough at this stage to not do the 'ciao bella posso di conocierti?' (I can't spell italian, but it's like "Hey beautiful, can I get to know you?') then again, now that I think about it I'm not sure I didn't.

That would explain her wonderful hostility. I am so much more comfortable when people give me a hard time than when people are nice and friendly. That's the fucked up way I roll.

So when I produced every piece of ID I had in my wallet to try and prove my nationality, I was having a delightful time. Things were either going really well or more likely incredibly poorly, when suddenly little Italy left.

I lacked the class to sit stationary feeling sorry for myself, and managed to ask the girl how I would ever find her again. Once again, I couldn't detect whether they were being coy or hostile, when they were like 'facebook, email blah blah blah.' something quite literally like that without any actual information.

Anyway, I was quite literally (yes, this is how classy I am) going 'ooooooooohhhhhhhh' as I turned around and stopped and got straight into another conversation. In hindsight, I was flirting with self-depreciating humour, that in that setting was in fact entirely deserved. I was a drunken douche. In face saving further hindsight, I'm pretty sure that girl just enjoyed the flirting and flattery, and had no actual interest in me from the outset.

I bought pizza, at some point after asking my host to 'surprise me' and handing my wallet around far too often to not be lucky to still have it. (probably everyone realised I had nothing in it worth taking). I recall my self depreciating humour just digging me into a hole where I literally crushed my own esteem. Then waking up at my tram stop and getting in home somehow miraculously.

I also remember typing 'predictive' into a text message and being amazed at the miracle of predictive text and then writing a whole bunch of random words and sending it. I'd really like to know what was in that text message.

Anyway, that's neither here nor there. Like Catch-22 I ended up home alone like Yossarian. But I realised, that unlike Yossarian, I just can't close.

This was a horrifying revelation for me. And coincidently it became my new years resolution.

You see, I'm fairly predictable, my motivation is simple... I admitted this for the first time yesterday, and now I'm kind of horrified that its how I've been living.

My motivation is: I don't care about me, I am here to be used up. I just care about other people. I'm quite really, emotionally masochistic.

I've gotten this way, because it was easy, and it was better than where I came from, which was where I simply didn't care about anybody. And I don't know how I got there.

So I've decided to change. Which was easy, doing it is harder. I am naturally a back foot player. Better in defence than attack.

I've always outsourced my support. Other people support me, and I generally neglect myself. My idea of supporting myself is just pushing myself harder to be more awesome.

I do think I'm pretty awesome, I just never tell this to myself. I'm always just 'I'm not good enough, I'm not ready.' I'm used to being in other peeps corner, never my own.

I think I'm a good supporter. I could use my own support. So this is what I'm trying to change. My self talk and everything. It's hard I have a lot of habits to break.

But I can see the progress, not just on that front but every thing I do. I'm in a positive place acting like its a shithole. Like an Olsen Twin or something.

Ya basta! It's time for me to start acting like I am who I want to be. I'm a long way there already. That's how my year began.

I never thought I'd say this but, thankyou alcohol.