Wine and gossip glue

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Pray tell: is there anything better in all the world than wine and gossip? I mean a delicious, suck-it-down-and-beg-for-more kind of wine and scandalous, if-you-dare-repeat-any-of-this-I-will-deny-and-destroy-you kind of gossip. It’s what bonding is all about, is it not? That is how relationships are made (ok, and destroyed perhaps, but I’m focusing on the building bit atm, orrite?).

This epiphany struck me on the weekend when my sister came to visit. She’s been away for a few months, she lives in another city, and we’ve been… well… we’ve been drifting for a while. But on Saturday we opened a bottle of wine, Mr D and Mr D-in-something-like-law drank beer (because they are boys) and we talked. And talked. And talked. Waaaaaaay past bedtime, through a late night booby call and into the not-quite-morning-hours-but-close-enough-to-be-scary time.

And we caught up. On everything. Not by actually telling everything, but you know the osmosis takes place as you drink – you talk about the parents and in-laws, you rant about the bloody water sheeting across your yard from the neighbour’s broken downpipe, you fantasise about life without kids and you warn of life with kids, you recommend books and tell stories of drunk cousins pashing strangers, you analyse the psychological baggage of those who shit you to tears and you make plans for triathlons and diets and wild parties that you know will never eventuate because you’re took drunk to be serious. By the end you somehow know everything else that was left unsaid. Yep, it was one of those nights that cements a friendship, however far it may have drifted, and I’ve decided I need more of those.

You see, last week I told the NDM that I had a piss-poor attempt at a posse. That was, in fact, a lie. I have no posse. I suck at friendship and I blame this on the fact that I didn’t get stuck into the wine and gossip until way late due to a mild obsession with swimming up and down a pool really fast.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, I made plenty of friends in the chlorine – it’s kind of hard not to bond when you share the intense ups and downs you get at 4am in a mid-winter pool. But what I didn’t realise at the time was that it is the wine and gossip that really seals things. Life after swimming takes you in all kinds of diverging directions and those friendships die natural deaths because the chlorine glue doesn’t exist any more… unless you had the chance to guzzle and gossip.

This combination bridges all lifestyles, all occupations, all moods and temperaments, seasons, distances and dreams. It transcends common interests and creates memories that, when everything else in your lives have gone asunder, remain powerful enough to hold you to ransom. And that’s the kind of glue I need because, as I said, I suck at friendship.

It’s not that I’m a complete bitch, though some would argue otherwise. I’m a good listener, sympathiser, co-conspirator. I am generous and generally tolerant, though sleep deprivation is taking it’s toll. I can be crude, philosophical and, well you’ve seen my blog, I’m downright hilarious, no? What? You’re not laughing?

But I don’t do regular phone calls, I don’t remember birthdays, I don’t like shopping, exercising or going to the toilet in packs and I’ll only do coffee if it fits in with my kids’ nap times. With this list, I’m destined never to have a posse and I’m cool with the whole lone she-wolf thing.

But, if you are ever around, I’m always free for some wine and gossip and who knows what may grow?

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7 responses »

    • Ah the long distance posse! I’m hip to that vibe. I’ll be drinking at approximately 7.30pm if you care to share. As for gossip, I’ll see what I can send telepathically – it’s sure to be top shelf!

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  1. I have an issue with this… by the time I can drink again, you’ll probably be pregnant again. How are we supposed to wine & gossip?!?! :)))

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  2. further to wine (or whatever is available) add a kitchen, a random possum attack in the dark and you have brilliant memories and a love that lasts. xxxx

    You know someone should do some research on a kitchen’s role in bonding sessions as in my [some what extensive] experience they are very conducive to bringing people of all types together. I wonder if United Nations should not meet in a kitchen on the floor and benches with some wine.

    You have a posse, just like me they are not all up in your face all the time. But when the crunch comes, they come…always!

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    • You just made me cry. Thanks for that!

      According to feng shui, the kitchen is the heart of the home – where fire elements meet water elements, where nourishment and abundance come from and from whence energy is channelled to all other areas.

      I think we can attest to that (except for the hangover mornings – no energy there)!

      You’re definitely onto something with UN! I can just see it now:
      “We need to end world poverty…”
      “Hey, invite them over here! The more the merrier!”
      “And what about the Middle East?”
      “Yeah, them too! A bit of wine and gossip will sort them out.”
      “And global warming?”
      “Well, it’s getting warm in here… or is that my dinner burning? Or the Vodka? Oh, hang it! Give me some more ice for this drink would you?”
      “What about terrorism?”
      “Well that possum sure scared the shit out of me!”

      I love it!!

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  3. Sorry about slow reply but have been on my arse with gastro (thanks kinder mums for bringing sick kids to kinder-share the love) but I read this the other day and thought it was an awesome post. Friendships are tricky when you have to balance the gazillion needs of your cherubs. Sometimes there’s not enough time to feed the dog, let alone catch up with someone who has known you as someone other than mum. I need a big booze up BADLY

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