Lilith & the domestic goddess

dolphins off Cape Byron

My friend Katya came up from Melbourne to visit me for the weekend. Katya was my closest friend at university, umm - seventeen years ago, jeez. She's one of the few friends I have who knew me before I was a lesbian.

I remember dragging Katya and my sister to my first ever lesbian night, in the basement of a pub on Cardigan St in North Melbourne. I didn't know any other lesbians and I couldn't go alone. First I had them braid my hair in a million little plaits, with beads on the end. (I wasn't game to cut it off but braids seemed suitably bohemian). We went too early, hardly anyone else was there and the few who were huddled in established clusters, drinking steadily, and not looking terribly interested in a be-braided baby dyke in the wrong clothes.

Old friends are mirrors, sometimes soft flattering ones and other times more like mirrors with flourescent lights blazing on them, showing up every flaw. Katya did a bit of flaw-showing-up, much to the amusement of Lovergirl, who laughed smugly at Katya's tales of my history of numerous disastrous relationships.

It was a delight to see my current home town through a stranger's eyes. Katya loved the python, and the bathroom frog, and the brush turkeys (bloody pests that they are), and the odd people, and the endless green, and even the pitted dirt roads. She coped admirably with our lack of a toilet. A market stall holder asked her rising sign (horoscope) and this made her laugh for days. We read her tarot and took her to a party where she met people who had named themselves after planets, places and states of being.

When I'm feeling guilty that I haven't turned out at all what my parents would have hoped for (despite knowing they love me very much etc etc), I imagine that they would want me to be like Katya. Married - properly married, by a minister, not by a civil servant, which my mother always implied was slightly sinful - with two gorgeous preschool boys, staying at home and creating a beautiful comfortable home... what's not to like about heterosexuality?

WHERE IS THE PERSON WHO WILL KEEP ME IN THE STYLE TO WHICH I WOULD LIKE TO BECOME ACCUSTOMED?

Where is that person?

Sorry Katya - moment of jealousy there. Now back to revelling in own life as exotic independent Northern Rivers lipstick lesbian, despite ongoing difficulty getting sperm to swim in correct direction.

Speaking of sperm...
We've been inseminating the past two days (thanks Dan). Lovergirl drives up to Brisbane after work, we meet outside Donor Dan's place, then race home with the vial of sperm tucked into the waistband of my pants. I do my highly important job of wielding the syringe, we fall asleep with Lovergirl propped up on three cushions to coax the swimmers to travel north, then the alarm goes off at 5.30a.m. so she can get back to the North Coast in time for work.

I got a wishing-jar for my birthday so I think we should be right this month.