I live in Darwin. I am writing this blog in Queensland. Which is where Lizzy lives. Which is poignant. I won’t be seeing Lizzy while I’m here. I’ll tell you why. I first met Lizzy King when I was running a small bookshop in Notting Hill and she was a famous actress shooting her latest movie and I happened to spill orange juice all over myself and her.
This was not how Lizzy King and I met. That’s the plot of Notting Hill. We’re also not in love. As far as I know. No. We’re not in love.. In fact we’re not even close friends. In fact I hate that bitch. Woah. Sorry, that’s not true. But our relationship isn’t as complex as Hugh Grant’s and Julia Roberts in Notting Hill… which isn’t that complex to start with… which is what I’m writing about today as guest blogger – the uncomplex relationship of Lizzy and myself through the power of social media and words.
Lizzy and I aren’t close friends. That seems like quite a stinging statement, even though I thought about it and practiced it. I really like Lizzy. She’s funny, and clever, has mad theatre skills, we both love comedy and the Kransky Sisters. In fact, our journeys matched up quite strangely the same – we both moved from Brisbane to nowhere, different nowhere, in order to embrace a change and take a break from city living.
So why aren’t we close friends? I remember growing up, girls especially, seemed to always be pressured into having a best friend. Or a few best friends. In the theatre too, everyone likes to greet everyone with the biggest loudest, “DARLING!!!” you can manage across the room, and introduce everyone as “THIS IS ANDREA SHE’S SIMPLY THE MOST FABULOUS BEST PERSON YOU’LL EVER MEET AND I LOVE HER AND SHE’S MY BEST FRIEND!”. Which is full of insincerity and cheapens real connections. Who I want to fly a flag for are not best friends. I want to fly a flag for those friends who you don’t ever see. Those from whom you aren’t drifting further apart from, but are in fact quite stably and comfortably secured in the perimeters of their consciousness, with no guilt or anxiety about having to climb the ranks of their priority list.
My Facebook feed is made up of three categories: 1) close friends, 2) mentals and 3) Lizzy Kings. Let me go through these for you now for a little deepening in understanding.
1) Close friends – these are people in my real life that I know. I often see them. I work with them. I know when they’re lying on Facebook, I know when they are seeking out attention, I don’t really care what they’re up to on Facebook because I’ll either see them in real life soon and hear about it, or am involved in what they’re Facebooking about.
2) Mentals – Include people I actively seek out for my own disturbing amusement. People like Annika, a 24 year old mother of three, who has lots of fights with her on again off again boyfriend via her facebook statuses and as I look over now to see what her status is it reads “F**k off you geriatric b*tch, don’t tell me “you know” how to handle my child. You’re opinion is completely unwanted here.” . People like Steven, 28, who insist that money isn’t real, and that you are actually able to pay bills, fines and government institutions with a piece of paper that is signed and reads “this is legal tender”.
3) Lizzy Kings - These are people that I know, have shared some sort of experience with and now exist only in my news feed. I see them in real life… never. I live in a different state, a different time zone, and here’s the real hard truth – will likely not see them again, outside of bumping into them at the in the street or theatre… or the Gatton local bachelor and spinster’s ball.
These are called the Lizzy Kings because Lizzy King is the model for this category. We met in 2010, creating poetry on stage as part of a creative team that brought an independent show to Metro Arts in Brisbane. Then Lizzy became my favourite person in the world by working her connections to get me a free ticket to The Kranksy Sisters at the Powerhouse. We laughed. We cried. We fell in love again. With the Kransky Sisters.
And that was it. That was the last time I saw Lizzy. And it’s not because I did a poo in her letterbox, or we fell out of love (we were never in love), it’s just that in life things happen, people end up in different places in the world, and some people are closer than others.
Now here’s the interesting thing. Twenty years ago, had you wanted to keep in contact with a Lizzy King, you’d have to really make an effort – write letters or use the telephone (that’s right, TELEphone… because that’s what they called phones back then). THESE DAYS every week I have a new insight and understanding of Lizzy – through this very blog and her Facebook and her postings on both. I know lots of things about her, her likes and dislikes, political opinions, and what’s she’s been up to. If I were stalking her through a dating profile website, I could totally make the conversation on our first date amazing thanks to all the interest and study I could do around her (once again, not in love). And not just Lizzy but ALL Lizzys. I know intimate details and feelings about people that I haven’t seen in years. We exchange birthday thankyous – share occasional memories of meetings past and frequently ‘like’ each others outward creative expressions… but that’s it.
And it’s awesome. In fact it’s my preference. You get to uphold images of people in your mind with just the good bits, and the filter they choose to use to broadcast to the world, heck knows, I certainly wish I could take a few relationships and erase out the boring, or frustrating bits or the bits where they got to see me have a tantrum or embarrass myself. It’s totally non-committal – I can check in on the other person whenever I feel like it, and they me. And even if they’re sick of hearing from me, I can still check in on them. It’s perfect. It’s true love (it’s not true love).
Please note – the reason this blog is late is because I didn’t submit it on time. Whatever. It’s not like I’m ever going to see Lizzy for her to get me in trouble. (Editor's note - no, but you did give me free reign with the photo...)
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| Kyle Walmsley circa 2010 when we knew each other IRL - Photo by Amelia Dowd. |
Kyle Walmsley is an actor and writer based in Darwin in the Northern Territory. He writes his own blog at www.imverytiredandcranky.
