Image by Mugley
On this day ten years ago I worked the mid-shift at the Shell Petrol Station, Wicks Rd, North Ryde, Sydney. I finished at 7.30pm, having spent the day listening to customers telling me what they were getting up to with the millenium clickover, and what if everything breaks? What if technology fails us and we are plunged into anarchy? My own concern was my inability to want to part-tay like everybody else on the planet. I rarely stay up to midnight; in fact I can probably count on two hands the times I’ve stayed up past midnight in my life. So what would we do? How would we celebrate? The problem was, I didn’t want to drag Adam down, or my sister, who was with us. I hate being a party pooper.
In the end we drove to Longueville to watch the kid’s fireworks from the south side of the point. We packed a picnic and waited. There were people everywhere, not a spot of grass could be found. Behind us in their mansions, millionaires were hosting parties; guests were spotted lifting champagne flutes to their lips and squinting through telescope lenses, put out there for the curious or scientifically minded. I remember sitting next to one woman, whose features I cannot recall, yet that she sat in a green and white fold-out barbeque chair. She talked to everyone who passed her, kids and adult alike. Was she a local and knew these people anyway? Or was she making the most of the excited spirit of the night? There could be no doubt that as the pyrotechnics began and our faces were bathed in their glow, it was exciting. It was promising. The new millenium was something to look forward to, not to be feared.
By midnight, we were home again, and I was still awake. Adam grumbled something along the lines of, well we could’ve gone out after all couldn’t we? And fair enough. Christ, he was only twenty two years old. He had some living to do. As the fireworks came onto the TV I ran upstairs to our housemates bedroom, to stand on his bed, to make out in the distance the sight of faint sparkles on the horizon. In the darkness, I had a private worry; my earlier optimisism had petered away. What would be in store for me?
Actually, 2000 was amazing. I completed my masters degree and managed to work part-time and at the end I handed in my thesis the week we hopped on a plane to move to Melbourne. It was such a big move, a ‘grown up’ choice. We both were cutting free from all ties in NSW to go to another where we were to start with nothing, know nothing.
And I’m glad we did.
******
As I’m typing this I have piles of reading to do. I must get cracking. I don’t feel this post is quite ‘done’, but I’m not going to do a whole decade re-cap either. It’s just I often think back to the girl I was in 1999 (yes, 21, but not much more than a girl), trying to stare into a new decade. Tonight, as I snuggle down with my children to watch the fireworks on the TV (a bona fide reason this time!), you can be sure I’ll be doing something similar.
All the best to you for 2010 and all the ‘teenies’ (that’s what they’re calling this new decade, isn’t it? I get so confused. They never really settled on what the ‘noughties’ were…)
Stay safe.
xxx
