Testing, Testing

It's Friday morning here in Oz, so that's like the weekend already! (No point leaving my wind-down until this afternoon. I mean, it beats the rush, right?) Not just any weekend, but a long 3 day weekend. I think Australia has more public holidays than any other country in the Western World, we will celebrate/commemorate anything.

Just another reason to live here, right?

Speaking of such matters, Kris is celebrating becoming an official citizen of OZ this weekend. A hot topic in these parts of late is the proposal that all future citizenship applicants should be given a test. To see if the 'fit', if they're 'our sort of people', you know?

You can keep your boring questions about Federation and Phar Lap, let's get down to some questions that really see if you'll fit in.

THE SHORT TOA CITIZEN TEST
Multiple choice, please answer every question.

The best drink ever invented is?
A. Passiona
B. A $6 bottle of Passion Pop
C. All of the above
D. A mixture of the above
E. What's this obsession with passionfruit?

The cutest member of Sherbet was?

A. Clive Shakespeare
B. Daryl Braithwaite
C. Garth Porter
D. Alan Sandow
E. Tony Mitchell (trick question)

Australia's biggest unsolved mystery is?
A. Who killed Bogle & Chandler
B. The disappearance of the Beaumont Children
C. Casey Donovan (Note: - NOT the porn star)
D. The contents of the great Aussie meat pie

If you were "cracking a tinny in the tinny", you would be?
A. Opening a beer whilst sitting in a small aluminium boat
B. Doing something dirty
C. Having a great weekend

C'mon Aussies (c'mon), care to add some more?

Luminous

So much beauty in this world.

Tossing & Turning

I'm wandering zombie-like through my day at present. Well, minus the clothes rent into rags and B-Grade movie make-up, but all other indicators (dead eyes, monosyllabic grunts, shuffling gait etc) are identical.

There's a period when the seasons are changing that I have trouble sleeping. At the moment we are having mostly clear and quite hot days, but then overnight the lack of cloud cover means that the temperature drops quite a bit and it gets quite cool.

Cue what I like to call The Trans-Seasonal Doona* Dance.

1. Start evening with just a sheet as cover, doona artfully arranged at the foot of the bed on 'if required' stand-by.
   
2. 2am(ish) - wake up chilly and pull up doona.
   
3. 2.30am(ish) - wake up face down and twisted around, a bit warm, stick one arm and both feet outside of doona.
   
4. 3.15am(ish) - Gasping and perspiring, angrily cast the verchacte doona aside entirely, artfull arangement be damned.
   
5. 3.30am to 6.30am - repeat steps 2 through 4
   
6. 6.30am - at alarm briefly consider the options of calling in dead, or going to work as undead.

("Doona" = duvet = continental quilt in Aussie parlance.

8 Things That Have Officially Been Placed On Notice

These You're On Notice pics have been doing the rounds of my blog peeps of late. I loves me some Stephen Colbert, ever since I saw him on Strangers With Candy as Chuck Noblet, but as we don't get his talk show here in Oz the context of these pics is kind of a bit lost on me.

However, I never let a lack of understanding get in the way of joining a bandwagon. You all get that about me, right? An enthusiastic joiner, even if I don't have a clue.

Anyhoo. Just so you don't think that it's all sunshine and smiles in my world, here are the 8 things that today I am officially putting on notice:



Care to make your own?

5 Life Lessons Taught To Me By Last Night's Episode Of "Dancing With The Stars"

1. "Star" is a general term that covers people who nobody has even heard of, like a girl who's good at chess and the son of two 'racing identities'
   
2. A big smile and mugging for the camera will apparently get you anywhere, even if your dancing isn't much chop
   
3. Some surnames are made for comedy. "Hey, we all know Gaze can dance!". Nyuk, nyuk.
   
4. Sometimes the universe strikes back and evens the odds for the rest of us, just because you're tall and cute it doesn't mean you're good at everything
   
5. Sometimes bad hairpieces happen to good people - but a clever publicist will ensure that the top of your head is cropped wherever possible
   

A Picture Paints A Thousand Words...

...but not always the truth. Or perhaps, when meaning isn't clear it's easy for people to read things into a picture that aren't there, or bend the meaning to their own ends.

This story on Slate.com is a prime example. In the foreground are five people sitting and talking, while in the background a huge bloom of dust and smoke rises where the World Trade Center towers were. The date is September 11th 2001.

Five years later the photographer then put a slant on the picture which is basically a fabrication, inferring that he knew the nature of their discussion and how they were reacting. Two of the subjects decide to hit back with the truth.

It's a worthwhile reminder that you can't believe everything you see and read.

Difficult Times

So many people in my life seem to be going through rough patches at the moment; friends, acquaintances and some of my blogging buddies. It's kind of like there is some global shift, some misaligning of the stars, that is bringing chaos and stress and depression into the lives of these people I care about.

It's quite distressing to see people going through tough times, and I can certainly empathise. I've had my own rough patches in the past few months, although almost trivial compared to what some of these folk are going through. Actually, that's not entirely true. In hindsight some of my problems were kind of trivial, but they still felt tough and at times overwhelming when I was experiencing them. Perspective is a wonderful thing.

What is unusual is that it seems so pervasive at the moment. So many friends having tough times. I've spending a lot of my time thinking about them, sometimes unsure what to do or say that might help. Suffice to say that I'm thinking of you. May the way ahead be clear and the road free of obstacles.

Colourful

Here are a few snaps from the Feastability food festival on Sunday. It was a scorching hot day, over the old 90F for those of you playing at home in the Northern Hemisphere. Most of the day was clear with hot gale force winds, and it did become overcast as the day wore on, but not any cooler.



The food festival had a really good vibe about it, in the classic Newtown way the crowd was a blend of grunge, queer and double-income-one-child families.


Colourful flags, perfect photo fodder.

Not surprisingly the longest queues were for the stalls selling beer. The food looked good, but vegetarian fare was a little thin on the ground and the queues were a bit off putting.


Bernard & Stewie.

It was a great afternoon for people watching, checking out the cute boys and of course, taking photos.

Full To Bursting

...with joy.

Man, I had a fabulous weekend. Now I use "fabulous" when the occasion calls for it, not the way that young people say "awesome" about things that patently do not inspire awe. This weekend called for an all caps label of FABULOUS. Look up the word, there's a picture of my weekend right there in the dictionary.

Saturday is kind of self explanatory. The perfect blend of some Me Time (haircut, retail therapy and the stalking of architecture photos in the back streets of my 'hood) and some Sociability (a loooong afternoon at the pub and a suprise house guest - The Mighty Quinn). Rounded off with an early(ish) night, by choice, and a good sleep.

Yesterday dawned HOT, and I met my friend Bernard and his partner (Seven Foot) Stewie for a wonderful late breakfast. Good coffee, lots of water and some ciabatta toast topped with rocquette (aka arugala aka rocket), two over-easy eggs and an amazing tomato salsa with just a hint of curry about it. Perfect. The three of us then headed to the Newtown food and wine festival Feastibility for the afternoon, and caught up with a few other friends. I took heaps of photos, some of which I'll post soon. It was an extremely hot and very windy day, and by around 2pm I could feel that I was starting to burn to a crisp so called it quits. On the way home I decided to pop in and see a friend I hadn't seen for a long while, and... well let's just say that I was able to tick another item off my To Do List. :)

Around early evening I got home from my friend's place, hung out with Bodhi and Quinn, rang up for some home delivered Thai, watched Australian Idol (so many of them sucked so bad!) ate chocolate and went to bed. A tired but very happy boy.

A Day In The Life

I decided to participate in the A Day In The Life Of (DILO) project on Flickr. I didn't have a lot planned for the day, a haircut in the morning was my only commitment. Even by early morning it was already hot, so I threw on a polo shirt & shorts and headed out with my camera to record the day.

Here's a quick run down of my Saturday the 23rd of September in pictures.









Click each pic to go to the picture's page on Flickr, or view my full set.

1. A hot morning. Walking up the street to my hairdresser, and this house is at the top of my street. I think it was once a corner shop of some sorts, and I've always loved this shell motif.
2. The lime green vinyl sofa at my hairdresser's salon. I'm on time for my 9.00am appointment but no sign of her yet.
3. My hairdresser rang to say she overslept, be here in a half hour. I kill time with the latest Harpers Bazaar and a coffee.

4. A little after 10am, post haircut retail therapy at my favourite bookstore on King St.
5. Around 11. taking photos of amazing houses in the back streets of Newtown.
6. Rustic charm in Newtown. Just as I took this pic a security guard from the Synagogue 3 doors away came to have a 'chat'. He made me feel like I had done something wrong, and I felt quite intimidated.

7. Noonish. Housework. I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at the dirt.
8. Always seperate your whites.
9. 4pm onwards. At the pub. Bernard gives me his blog address. I didn't have paper, so I wrote it on his hand and took a picture.

10. Bernard and Kate make nice for the photo.
11. Addicts out on the street having a ciggie. I love the look in Kate's eye, she's very comfortable with the camera and make a great model.
12. The lovely Ian. Funny and very likeable.

Afterwards (early evening) I went home and watched tv, and then turned in for an early(ish) night. A fantastic and very fun day!

Red Hot & Blue

I just took this picture about 20 minutes ago, when I left the office to buy lunch. The entire plant was naked, except for this one bright red flower and solitary leaf at the top, framed against a hot summery sky.



There's a beauty and drama to this that I love. Not just the visual punch of the hot red against the big blue sky, but the last hurrah this plant is having before it puts itself to sleep for the summer. A grand gesture.

Last one out, please turn off the lights - and the mirrorball.

Get Fresh On The Weekend

It's Friday morning here in OZ, and I've just stood outside in the baking 'Spring' sun (hey, wha'sup Global Warming?) with one thought on my mind If this verchacte Fire Drill means my espresso has gone cold there will be hell to pay.

I don't like Fire Drills. I understand why they are necessary, and I don't mind the opportunity to get away from my desk, but they are inevitably kind of lame don't you think? People seem to be divided into two camps during fire drills. The oddly jolly, those people who have grabbed their coffee cup and packet of smokes and treat the whole thing as if they are gathering to sing happy birthday to Debbie The Receptionist, or say farewell to Dave Fom The Mailroom after 25 years of service. The other camp, are the listless and somewhat jaded, like 15 year olds that have been forced to make nice for a photo with their 9 year old cousin. I kind of fall into the latter group, only in this instance with a serious need for some sunglasses and a layer of desperation for the first coffee of the morning. Not pretty.

Anyhoo, that fact that it's Friday means it's only one sleep to the weekend. Not just any weekend but a Haircut Day weekend. Woot! I love getting my hair cut, it's like a short cut to improved self-esteem, with a complimentary espresso. Aside from that my weekend is almost plan free, which seems kind of delicious and self-indulgent after the business of the past bunch of weeks.

The weather forecast is HOT, so it'll be a shorts & slides kind of weekend. I might try and catch up with some of the friends I neglected over the winter, maybe even grab out the little black book and make a booty call or two.

Tides

I'm starting to think that my genetic make-up has changed to be part lizard, or sunflower, or something else that tracks the sun. Just in time to add gravitas to Al Gore's promo tour for his Global Warming documentary, our weather flipped from a blast of drenching Winter straight to Summer. Without passing Spring, Go, or collecting $200.

It's all I can do to stop myself from singing the Hallelujah Chorus out loud. (If you've heard me sing, give thanks.) What it has made me want to do is grab my camera and be outdoors all the time. To throw open the doors and windows of my house and let the Winter fug out. To throw open the doors and windows of my 'internal house' and let the Winter fug out. Dance. Scream. Be a cheeky monkey. Get laid.



It's not all the weather of course, probably only a small percentage in truth. It's a feeling of change. Seasons cycling, tides turning, stars reaching apogee or perogee. I like stability but I love change. If I could I would try new things and new places all the time, maybe grab a backpack and my camera and just wing it for a while like did in my 20s.

I think my current feeling also comes from taking inventory and realising that the shelves are better stocked than I thought. You know? Taking off the blinkers and have a good look around. Having fun, being positive, mixing metaphors like a madman and realising that there is a lot that makes the Good List.

Of course tides turn, and some days are overcast, but if I'm really going to push out this boatload of metaphors, then the choppy seas can be navigated with the right compass and a craft made sturdy. Why not? Calm seas and clear skies are a certainty, they might just seem to take their sweet time getting here, but they will get here.

Emotional Architecture

I'm starting to think of 2006 as the Year Of The Exhibition. If this keeps up I am seriously going to have to buy a new wardrobe and some more 'directional' eyewear.

The gallery show "Emotional Architecture" opened last night at Tap Gallery with glass art and drawings by my friend Jeffrey Hamilton and black & white photos with text by Jenn Tao. Mikey (the lovely ex), his friend Linda and myself went along, to what turned out to be a large exhibition and very busy opening. (Is it just me, or does a busy opening have a nice ring to it?....)

Anyhoo, I digress.

Jeffrey's work is always glorious. This exhibition had some of his wonderful big abstract pieces that I love, as well as some of the drawings he does in preparation for these pieces and for the restoration work that forms a large part of his business. I'm fortunate enough to have a beautifull smaller piece of Jeffrey's hanging in my home, a mirror he gave me as a birthday gift one year.



I ran into quite a few people that I knew, my friends Stil and 'Pong, and Rod. Jeffrey and Jenn are both very out and proud queer artists, so a large chunk of the Sydney gay glitterati were in attendance too. Noted gay photographer William Yang gave a moving opening address to the exhibition, and the show was closed in uproarious style by the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence.



The gallery was hot, as was some of the crowd, but the free Chardonnay was cool. As were some of the crowd. I love gallery shows for the eccentrics they bring out into the light, one man who looked like he was wearing his pyjamas was a particular source of amusement.

After the show Mikey, Linda and I had a spectular dinner at a new restaurant called The Bentley. The decor was warm and modern, the food sublime and the service excellent. A fabulous night, with lots of laughs and good company.

A snapshot of my own "emotional architecture" on the evening would have shown a wonderful jumble of happiness and delight.

Been Around The World...

Ever had one of those days where things aren't working out as planned and you kind of want to bang your head against the nearest really hard surface, really hard, but then an opportunity presents itself and it sort of turns out alright after all? That was my yesterday.

I kind of started off poorly with a bijou little hang-over. Yes, I have been partaking in the demon drink a little of late. Yes, it is fair to say that I have no stamina anymore and am an exceptionally cheap date. Yes, when out with Mikey it is not exactly inevitable, but certainly likely, that a hang-over will ensue.

I was slated to go to another office yesterday to help train a new admin staff member, and the office was located on the northern beaches area of Sydney. Door to door about one and a half hours of travel time, first on a train and then a bus. Anyhoo, given that it was a beautiful day and I had my book to read and my camera with me, the trip wasn't so bad. Pleasant even.

So I arrive at the office to find that my boss wasn't going to meet me there after all - so there will be no lift back into the city at the end of the day. O-kay, positive frame of mind only slightly dented. I can manage the bus and train back - no biggie. Then the admin staff member I am to train is sick, and wants to go home. Then the software I was sent to install and train her on isn't even there anyway, it's sitting on someone's desk at head office. Then they don't have any of the other network accesses or log-ins set up for me to do any of the other training I was supposed to do anyway, and by this time she really wants to go home.

So, $16 in fares and a three hour round trip to be there for around two hours. Nothing much of anything achieved. Good mood crumbling a bit at this point. I rang my boss and as it would take me around two hours to get back into the office I normally work in (other side of the city) my instructions were to call it a day at 12.30. Normally I would say "Yippee" but as a contractor I only get paid for the time I work, and last week I took a few days off sick. Things are a wee bit lean.

Deciding to take these lemons I had been given and make some lemonade I wandered around in the sun for a while, had lunch and did some window shopping in a fabulous (and largely empty) shopping mall and oggled a group of shirtless rugby players who I passed jogging along the street to their club. Turns out it was a nice afternoon after all. I'm going to ask to be recompensed for the fares and ask that they also compensate me for the lost hours.

I think that's only fair compensation for an afternoon spent cruising the mall and oggling shirtless guys, don't you?

Lazy Afternoons On The Terrace

I spent a really pleasant afternoon with Mikey (the lovely ex) on Sunday, after I had spent much of the day wandering the city trying to find a birthday present for my sister. (In the end I settled on a couple of books, both about writing and one specifically about travel writing - hopefully they'll be usefull for her as she re-tells the highs and lows of her recent travel experiences.) After hanging out in Mikey's luxury city pad, high atop Metropolis, for a little while we headed down the street to the Green Park Hotel where packs of Darlinghurst gay boys gather on a Sunday afternoon. A warm Spring afternoon especially.


The Green Park have recently added an outdoor terrace drinking area which is kind of fabulous. I hesitate to refer to it by the usual 'beer garden' name that outdoor drinking areas in Aussie pubs normally have, because as you can see there isn't a single green growing thing in sight.


What there was though was a curious mix of well groomed but carefully dressed down gay boys, soaring walls, hard surfaces and tactile plastic furniture and a sausage sizzle. Oddly enough - the mix works.


Mikey and I hung out for a few hours, and played "Who's Hot? Who's Not?" and "Spot the Demi-Celebrity" (one of the dancers from "Dancing With The Stars", who I knew vaguely from Adelaide and he was an extra in "Moulin Rouge") and discussed the dangers of cross-genre clothing - that which attempts to mix camo and denim in the same item. (Verdict: wrong.)

Also on the agenda for discussion was the unique mix of emotions that the first true blast of warm weather brings; on one hand envy at all the pretty boys with their t-shirt ready pecs and flat tummies, and on the other hand the lust that said items produce. Sort of a unique blend of melancholy and horniness.


Surprisingly, aside from Mikey there was only one other guy I had dated there. I must be slipping. After the Green Park we headed to a local restaurant for a fantastic meal together and then popped into Mikey's friend Steve's house to say 'Hi' and continue the alcohol odyssey. Hanging out with Mikey is always wonderfull, we have such a comfortable groove with each other, but this was an especially good afternoon and evening.

Bring on Summer!

Welcome To Barcelona!

I like to think I'm pretty hard to shock. I have a pretty good grasp on how things work, a very liberal attitude that understands that even good people sometimes do bad things (or ill thought out ones at least), and a belief that people are fundamentally good despite the occasional indicators to the contrary. However, I was talking to my sister the other night, and she told me something that really stopped me dead cold in my tracks.

First a little back story. My sister had a massive stroke in her very late 40s and is now considerably incapacitated. Problems with her rehabilitation over the past few years have meant that she now prefers to spend most of her time at home, and when she does venture out it is in a wheelchair and with a carer in tow. So I was very surprised, pleasantly so (although a little trepidatious) when my other sister told me that she had gone to Italy and Spain for 4 weeks, taking one of her carers with her.

Long story short, I was chatting to her about Spain, Gaudi, Pedro Almodovar and my desire to see Barcelona and Madrid when she told me something that absolutely floored me. On her first day in Barcelona she was robbed. In the hustle and bustle of trying to get out of a cab, while her carer went to get the wheelchair out of the trunk of the taxi, two women offered to help her out of the cab, and in the process helped themselves to her purse.

Spain, I still think you are beautifull but some of your gloss has gone.

Recaplet

Sorry about the short unexpected hiatus. After the stresses of the past few weeks I started to get a scratchy throat last weekend, which then turned into some sort of really nasty bug. Fevers, swollen glands and a killer scratchy throat. I judged it and found it to be Not Fun. A short visit to the doc, and some antibiotics later, and I'm on the mend.

This always seems to happen to me these days, get too busy and too stressed and then something comes along to say Just Slow The Fuck Down, M'Kay? Eh, whatevs. So I went with it instead of fighting it. A couple of days at home either in bed, welded to the couch with the DVD remote in hand, or sitting in the sunshine reading, did wonders.

If only I could claim that on Medicare.

Not a lot was accomplished, very few amusing anecdotes were collected, even very little web surfing was done. After a solid week of wintery weather and constant rain here in Sydney, the days I was home sick turned out to be beautiful, warm and sunny. A perfect time to disconnect myself for a couple of days, grab my book and sit in the sun.

I'm seriously considering becoming a hypochondriac, I mean, I don't want to get sick and all but the lifestyle rocks.

Urban Archeology

Near my house is a vacant theatre building, and the walls are one of the favourite spots for bill posters. Every so often someone comes along and rips them all down, probably not someone from the council because they tend to leave them lying all over the street to blow around and get mushy underfoot if it rains.



What is left behind though are these wonderful colourful layers, an archeological dig of posters past.



Look to the skies Darren.

C.R.A.Z.Y. For You

Late last week Morgan and I went to see the fantastic Canadian film C.R.A.Z.Y. It's quite a unique film, but in some ways it reminded me a little bit of Breakfast On Pluto. Similar in it's themes of societal outsiders and sexuality, and also in the importance of the music in the storyline. Especially the music and gender-bending style of the 1970's to Zac, and of crooner Patsy Cline to his father.



The two actors that play the main character of Zac both turn in fantastic performances. Émile Vallée plays Zac between the ages of 6 and 8, and Marc-André Grondin plays Zac from ages 15 to 21. Grondin's portrayal of Zac walks that fine line between being endearing and portraying Zac as a bit of a shit at times, but ultimately he kept me on his side with his nuanced performance of the struggle Zac has with his sexuality, growing up in a very macho French Canadian family.



It's quite a long film at 2 hours and 7 minutes, and one sub-plot I found a bit long and unnecessary, but I was really entranced by the film and enjoyed it immensely. Two big thumbs up from me.

No Bad Guy

On Sunday afternoon, after dancing around the edges of the topic for weeks and weeks, Morgan and I had a chat about our relationship and decided to call it quits as boyfriends. It's very sad and not how I would have liked things to go, but it's really more of a case of two people who are just at different places in their lives rather than anything overly negative or dramatic. I sort of alluded to the fact that I had worked my way through some of the expectations and disappointments in my life in a recent post, and I was alluding to this quite heavily. The important thing is that we are staying friends and there is no Bad Guy in this scenario. We're still very close and intend to stay that way.

I was kind of at odds with whether I should mention this, out of respect for Morgan's privacy. It's something that is important to me though and which has been colouring my behaviour, and what I have chosen to share (and sometimes omit) on this blog. Also, we started this relationship under the gaze of our respective blog audiences and the Flickr-ites, and so it ends the same way I guess. It seems to have a certain symmetry to it.

We're both feeling ok about it, which is the most important thing. The friendship aspect of the relationship is important to both of us and is pretty solid I think, so that hopefully gives us a foundation to move forward. These things always take some adjusting and renegotiating, changing gears, but I like to think of it as a way forward.

Peace Out Y'all

I always have really mixed emotions about the graffiti I see and admire around Newtown. I mean, I like this combination of text, angel stencil, church spire and cemetary wall, but I can't escape the fact that the lovely old sandstone wall has been defaced.



Having said that, I do think this makes for a pretty cool visual collage.

Satisfaction

One big truth that I know is that satisfaction, contentment, comes from within. From working your way through the minefields of desire, frustration, disappointment (and it's first cousin, expectation) and arriving at a place where you are open to seeing the truth of things. To seeing the way that the stories we tell ourselves overlay the truth, change it and sometimes obscure it.

It struck me today that I'm in a comparatively contented place at present. I've mentally let go of a bunch of things that were upsetting and disappointing to me, and turned the bright lamp of analysis onto a bunch of my expectations. Pulled them apart with tweezers under the harsh incandescent glare, only to find they were filled with straw, faulty tick-tock parts and broken springs. It's a work in progress, but even dismantling some of this stuff is a good feeling. It feels like an achievement.

I've been really happy with the results of things I've been working towards. The bookshop at the conference was a success, especially in the feedback we received from customers, in the goodwill it creates towards our centre, and in the way that it might have made helpful texts available to people. I've been enjoying taking photographs, participating in an exhibition, and working towards putting on an exhibition at my Buddhist centre's open day in October. Contributing. Creating.

My New Career Is Assured

I sold my picture last night! Let this herald the beginning of my new career as this decade's Helmut Newton - although I'd probably rather be this decade's Robert Mapplethorpe (without the poor health, but with the talent and all the hot sex). Mikey (the lovely ex) bought 4 pictures, including mine and Morgan's. He assures me it was on the basis of artistic merit, not just because he's an absolute sweetheart with deep pockets.


Note the sticker on my picture, top right in the picture on the left. Sold, baby! Some of the handsome Flickr boys on the right.

It was a really fun night. Packed with people, and with lots of yummy food and an open bar! I met some really cool new folk, caught up with my Flickr buddies and some Flickrazzi I hadn't seen for a while, and rounded the evening off with a late supper at BBQ King in Chinatown while a thunderstorm raged outside. Dramatic!



Check out Morgan's entry about last night. He got some lovely pictures from the evening with his new lens, which is ideal for portraits and low light conditions. ::envy::

How To Panic Me

Hand me a meeting agenda where the first item is listed as "Devotions".*

Ask the assembled room "Who would like to read the Devotions?" and shoot me, the sole Heathen in the room, an imploring glance.

(* Not an uncommon way to kick things off with a bang at the Christian Charity Organisation where I currently work.)

Dietary Advice

Just in case you were considering it, I would suggest to you that four days in a row of eating birthday cake is a little excessive. Morgan's birthday, my birthday, leftovers and then a joint celebration for myself and another worker in my office... and then holy shit, with the exception of a few savoury interludes I have eaten birthday cake for 4 days running.

The good news, when they have to rip out all of my cavity riddled rotten teeth I'll already be in a diabetic coma so, you know, that saves on anaesthesia at least.

(BTW, I just typo'd "diabetic" as "dianetic" - so maybe my thetans are sick of chocolate cake too. Stupid thetans.)

Let's Hope It's Just A Phase

It suddenly struck me today, while in the bathroom during a reflective moment, that I have become what you could call "High Maintenance". Bloody minded. Recalcitrant.

Example 1:
My steadfast avoidance of replacing my lost mobile phone. It's inconvenient. It means using grubby, accoustically ineffective, and worst of all pee smelling public telephones. It means I don't get to entertain my fellow commuters with my witty choice of ringtone. Shit, it's one less accessory.

Example 2:
Pissing and moaning about having my photo taken, whilst hanging out with a huge group of photographers. Hell I'm even dating one, yet of late I've been getting a touch of the rock star "No Pictures" preciousness. Giving it some serious bershon action, like these guys.

I think I might 13 all over again.

Birthday: The Review

I had a lovely birthday yesterday.

After the craziness and hectic...ness of the previous week or two it was nice to just relax yesterday and not have to do much of anything. Except eat, there was lots of eating.

It was a beautiful mild Spring day and my friend Stephen and I started the day in perfect style with breakfast at VargaBar and then a stroll through Newtown shops. I only harrangued Stephen a little bit about moving back to Sydney from Brisneyland, normally I'm like a broken record. I've missed him terribly over the past few years since he moved to Brisbane, but at least he comes back every 3 or 4 months for a dose of sanity visit.

In the afternoon he had to visit other friends before heading back to the airport, so I went home and hung out with Quinn and Bodhi for a while, then napped. See! A lazy day. In the evening we were joined by Morgan and the four of us went to dinner at my beloved Thai Pothong. If I could marry their Tamarind Tofu I would.

I had a quick phone call from my sister interstate just before we left for the restaurant, to say Happy Birthday and that something was making its way to me from one of the online retailers. I had a couple of emails and phone messages waiting for me when I got back into the office this morning, lots of sweet comments on my previous blog entry from y'all, and my good mates on Flickr posted Happy Birthday wishes.

Spoilt.

Red Green Blue

Morgan created this lovely image for the RGB exhibition that we are participating in, using thumbnails of a bunch of the pictures from the exhibition.


Please drop by, have a peek, grab a nibble and a drink, and say "Hi" if you're a local. It promises to be a fun night!

Date: Wednesday, 6th September
Venue: Cafe Giulia
Location: 92 Abbercrombie Street, Chippendale, Sydney.
Time: 6.30 - 8pm

Q & A

A wise man once discovered that the "...answer to the question of Life, the Universe, and Everything." was 42.


However, what wasn't understood - was the question.

Maybe 42 is an answer to a poorly understood question, and that idea appeals to me. The search for the right question rather than the right answer. Turning 42 doesn't particularly feel like it is the answer to anything, but it sure as hell raises new questions.

Like "Why does my knee click when I do this?" "This haircut - mutton or lamb?" and "What next?"

My dear friend Steve is down from Brisbane, and I've given myself the day off to enjoy my birthday and recover from the stress of the conference over the weekend. First order of the day is breakfast with Steve at a Newtown cafe, and then this afternoon I'll spend some time with Quinn and have dinner with Morgan, Quinn and Bodhi this evening. Low key and enjoyable. There has been too much on this week to have any sort of extravaganza planned, but spending time with friends is what I feel like today. Sharing my birthday with the friends I've made on Das Internetz included.

Speaking of birthdays. Last night we celebrated the lovely Morgan's 40th birthday with drinkies at a stylish old pub in one of the older parts of Sydney called The Rocks. Tucked just under the entrance to the Harbour Bridge, down by the Harbour, it turned out to be a mild Spring night to stand on the terrace and a great venue. Our photogeek friends and myself bought him a bunch of fab camera equipment, much to his delight. It was a really fun night for all of us.

So, a big thanks all for the birthday wishes, and a big shout out to Michael for the fabulous gift! Just what I always wanted.