Mt Cotton to Indro...

After landing in Brisbane (and jumping for joy)

Wendy and I were picked up from the airport by her older sister Sally.

We drove off in the direction of her house to make a new home.

Her place was little and cute and had echidnas digging up the front garden.

So, pretty much adorable.

I lived here with Wendy, Sally and (for the last 6 months) a girl called Nelly.

It was a house of lesbians.

Hoorah!

L Word marathons, a vegetarian kitchen, herb/vege gardens.

Open conversations.

One housemate, however, was an irritation.

Nelly was a pain in the ass. It wasn't even her real name. 

 Her name was actually Rachel or Jennifer or something.

But Nelly is what she insisted people called her all of a sudden.

She was one of those people who craved attention.

It was difficult to stand her.

Despite one bad gay egg I really did enjoy living here, however there comes a time when you just need your own house. Your own living space, cooking space and drinking space.

Our time had come.

I missed living close to the city so we started looking around Toowong/Indrooroopilly.

We very quickly found a place.

Rylatt St, Indro.

I'm pretty sure that the people who lived here before us were evicted.

I remember getting there early for the house inspection and being completely hung over.

Wendy was always the responsible one.

We got it.

I loved moving in and exploring every little imperfection.

The kitchen was big but ridiculous.

The bathroom was pink and even more ridiculous.

But it was ours and we were happy.

Our kitten Maibe loved it too.

After a few months 2 good friends of ours went though a break up.

Sue came to live with us.

At the time it was a breath of fresh air for me.

It was the beginning of a relationship breakdown for Wendy and me.

The kind that's hard to end.

I still loved her but I couldn't breathe.

I wanted it to work so badly but the more I tried the more suffocated I felt.

As previously mentioned I don't deal well with drama.

This house had so much of that it's difficult for me to think about sometimes.

Wendy and I broke up.

Slept together.

Got back together.

Broke up again. Slept together. Broke up again.

A cycle I wasn't comfortable with.

It's hard when you live in the same house and one wall away from each other.

Something had to change.

A second suicide attempt from Wendy changed it all.

Waiting in the emergency room with Sally for 4 hours and then having Wendy refuse to see me.

All because I had called her sister for support.

I was in tears. Sally and I sat down and talked.

 We decided  that it would be best for Wendy to move back in with her.

This time was difficult for both Wendy and me.

We stayed close.
But it was difficult.

A friend of mine moved into Rylatt St house with myself and Sue.

Mat.

We have know each other since we were were 13 and are still very close friends.

It was a crazy house.

At one point we had 3 pet snakes, 1 chihuahua, 1 feline, 2 shit happy turtles, a dozen cannibal goldfish and 4 free range chickens.
I named mine Pepper, Sue called hers Noodle and Mat called his Riffraff

TOO free range at times.

I recall Mat and myself looking like odd city hippies walking down our street (after our chickens got a little too free range) with a cat curled up in my arms and Mat throwing breadcrumbs over his shoulder at the following of chickens we bribed to come home.

I lived here for a few more months until Sally called to tell me that Wendy had died.
She had taken her life.

There were too many memories in that house.

I had to leave.

The place I escaped to was a unit I moved into with Candice.
In case I hadn't mentioned her yet ... She is my rock.