Tuesday, February 15, 2005


Please forgive me for this post - it's a bit like the wanky, introspective, self-indulgent "dear diary" entry I swore I would avoid like the plague while blogging. Don't worry, QP will remain social, political and analytical. It's just that after the weekend I had, I haven't quite got my head around observing current events when my own reality - or perception at least - has been somewhat warped.

Again, for the sake of the dear reader I won't go into the gory details, suffice to say that this weekend I ran into unexpected exes with unexpected results, spent a day in Kiama where I helped my parents to systematically and methodically obliterate their residential and financial dreams, then shared a family dinner that by the end of it felt like a re-staging of "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?", complete with revelations, recriminations and tears. The lone good part of the weekend was playing tennis for the first time in years and actually still being OK, although boy o boy I ache all over now.

I've been seriously re-considering my family dynamic and in particular the great respect I have (had) for some of them. It's not a pleasant feeling to find out a hero is actually a fairly average human being or to have to assure your parents that they haven't failed you.

So QP's lesson of the day is: under no circumstances go into business with family members. If and when it goes horribly wrong, the ripples can be felt for miles.


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