[depressing and really weird conversation with rach]

me:: i'm sick of this. this is ridiculous. we are two intelligent, well-read and articulate girls and we always end up talking about boys. and they usually end up being useless, stupid boys who aren't even worthy of us. let's talk about something else for a change.

rach agreed and tried not to sound hurt that i had inadvertently called her guy stupid and useless. her face creased in concentration.

her:: what shall we talk about?

we were both silent for a moment.

me:: politics?

the silence stretched on for a bit longer.

her:: [cautiously] what sort of politics?
me:: well, not local politics obviously. that's just asking to get depressed.
her:: what about latvian politics?
me:: [i wasn't even sure where latvia was] what do you know about latvian politics?
her:: nothing. i thought i might learn something.

straying off the topic of boys was turning out to be something of a struggle.

her:: have you seen photographs of the crown prince of latvia?
me:: i have actually. he's quite cute.
her:: hmmm. it's those big brown eyes. but i can't take anyone in national costume seriously. there's something about a man wearing a white uniform with gold epaulets that just screams to be put on a mardi gras float with a kylie soundtrack.
me:: ok, forget politics. [realising that we had wandered from our original intention] you choose a subject?

we were quiet again.

her:: what about books? [with a hint of desperation in her voice]
me:: you're reading brideshead revisited and an art theory book. i'm trying to read the potrait of a lady but it's driving me insane. we always talk about books and we've swapped every single book we've read in the last year so we don't even have any surprises left. and we can't talk about art either because we always do that too.
her:: well, i don't see why not. i think i'm happy being limited.
me:: why is this so hard?
her:: i don't know but now i've got a headache. i'm going to make herbal tea, do you want one?
me:: no, all that i want is to have a conversation that doesn't revolve around boys. it can't be that difficult.
her:: of course it's not.

there was another, slightly longer silence and then i had a happy inspiration.

me:: tell me about the film that you saw.

rach's face brightened at the introduction of a non-boy-related topic and then fell again as she remembered that it had been a sad film.

her:: it was the most tragic thing i've ever seen. i was sobbing the whole way through. it was an iranian film about a family trying to raise money for their crippled son to have an operation. the operation wouldn't save his life, though, he was going to die and they were trekking through the snow and then the donkey fell over and died.
me:: what does the donkey had to do with anything?
her:: it was carrying the crippled boy.
me:: oh. [i thought for a moment] what did the donkey died of?
her:: they gave it vodka to drink.

bloody hell. now even iranian donkeys were getting smashed.

me:: does drinking vodka kill donkeys?
her:: [rach considered this important point] i'm not sure if the film was based on a true story. how do you think they got the donkey drunk?
me:: maybe they didn't. maybe the donkey is a method actor.
her:: [looking doubtful] i don't know. it looked like a pretty pissed donkey to me.

i wondered vaguely what a donkey did when it was drunk. i could only conjure up visions of the donkey trying to impress passing sheep by telling them that he was hung like a horse, before going home to get terribly confused and dizzy playing pin the tail on himself. presumably he would wake up the next morning and hope he hadn't made a complete ass of himself. then suddenly i was struck by a horrible thought.

me:: can people die from drinking vodka?
her:: [recognising the impending crisis and tried to be soothing] i don't think so or we'd obviously both be dead by now. i don't think it was the vodka itself that killed the donkey. i think it was a combination of vodka, the sub-zero temperatures and the weight of the crippled boy on his back.
me:: so as long as we don't drink vodka while wandering through antarctica piggybacking a helpless child we should be alright?
her:: hmm. shame though. it would be a very noble and selfless thing to do. and i bet it would impress jack. if i had done something like that he probably would have asked me to run away with him and we'd be working for m�decins sans fronti�res together by now.

it was incredible. we had circumnavigated the globe, wandering through latvia and antarctica, only to return to our original topic. sometimes there was no point even trying to fight your natural inclinations.

September 06, 2004 - 8:41 am