Thoughts at hand.

I've decided that I'm taking my mum to Escape From The Planet of the Arts, a.k.a. the USyd arts revue. It'll be her birthday on the Monday after, and well, I love my mum.

As far as mobile phones go, I'm a bit of a luddite. All I do is text and talk. I'd be satisfied with a telegraph, really. Anyway, my phones are always second hand, usually coming from mum when she gets a new one with all the latest features. Very tech savvy, my mum is. Up until recently I'd been getting by with an ancient Nokia 3310 but the other day I traded up to an 8310 that had been sitting idle since mum aquired the camera phone.

This 8310 is an odd thing. It stores nearly everything somewhere that isn't the SIM card - including various txt correspondences between mum and others. This morning on the train I was going through the process of deleting all of them when I came across this one message that was recently saved to the outbox. It was to dad, telling him not to take his girlfriend to the same pub or club that she was going to be at because it would be embarassing, as she says.

For those not in the know about my family situation, my mum and dad are still together, in a manner of speaking - despite the separate residences. As far as I knew, they spent weekends together. But I've got no idea what's happening now. I cried on the train when I read that message. It's entirely a new perspective for me. Dad's always had some floosy on the side and mum often joked about it. But I could imagine her vocalising what she'd written and I knew exactly how it would sound. Despair. Anger. Resentment. Hurt. And I wish none of this was happening.


Listening to:
Title: Dreams
Artist: The Cranberries
Album/station: Stars: The Best of 1992-2002 (2002)
Length: 4.15