Random Bits (With An Emphasis On Retail Therapy)

I am now the sort of man that celebrates special events, like the new job, by splurging and buying two knitting books from the Internet.* Rock on!

After being sick and tired of my less than fabulous tv reception at home, I broke out and bought a digital set top box late last week. Folks, it's a miracle. I'm still struggling with getting one of the channels properly, the signal keeps breaking up, but aside from that everything is crisp and lovely. O joyous day! I had a moment of pause when I realised that the channel I wasn't able to get properly was Channel 7 and that meant no Sunday night Ugly Betty and Grey's Anatomy. I think I even cried bitter, bitter tears a bit. But then the stars aligned and I was able to get passable reception long enough to watch my stories. Yay! George being pensive in high def! Izzie cried (again)!

I spent a lovely afternoon on Saturday with Mikey (the lovely ex) buying house paint for his apartment. Artisanal house paint. Not just any house paint, but the bloody Gucci of house paints, sweetie. Then of course, being who we are, there were drinks afterwards.

I've been knitting a ::blah, blah:: ::secret project:: ::blah, blah:: for a friend and I have one row left to knit before I can take it off the needles and sew it together. w00t! The first time I've followed a pattern. I was dead dog tired last night but I considered powering on regardless. Except, that my friends is when you drop stitches at a critical point and completely screw it up. [/end voice of experience]

Speaking of knitting, yesterday afternoon we had a visitor all the way from the U.K. for our pub knitting session at The Courthouse Hotel. New Zealand last week, and Scotland (via Yorkshire) this week. International Pub Knitting that should be. It's interesting because hobbies like knitting (and the same goes for photography I've discovered) are the great icebreakers. With a common interest like these there are plenty of experiences that are universal, and it's never that hard to get a conversation going.

* For those who might be interested - I bought Knitting Without Tears by Elizabeth Zimmermann, because I secretly aspire to joing the Cult Of Zimmermann (and I want to be Brooklyntweed when I grow up). I also bought Scarf Style because there are at least 3 or 4 patterns in there I want to make.

Interesting

The folks at The Big Christian Charity just made me a job offer, of sorts. Instead of doing my poorly paid temp job they're interested in creating a financial management role for me. Intriguing. ::places pinkie in mouth::

All the positions are graded, so they're coming back to me with a ballpark salary figure but one senior manager has already told me that I can ask for what I want. (The moon, I'm thinking. The moon would be good.) All the benefits that come with working in a permanent role would be good, and something that's worth factoring in.

I guess I'll wait and see what they come up with, but so far they're highly motivated to keep me. Which is nice. It feels good to be the one holding the chips.

[Updated: Well, their people spoke with my people, offers were tabled, negotiated and run up the flagpole to see who saluted, and I've taken it. The job description is still being written, but they've committed to what the job entails and frankly no brainer. How do I put this politely, they have a set of expectations that are somewhat lower than out in the cut-throat commercial world. I did some quick sums, looked up the current tax rates for the salary they're offering, and I should come out well, well ahead. Apparently they also offer some sort of salary packaging deal which should reduce my tax even further. Sweet.]

If You Loved Me You Would Show It By Buying Me Things

I don't wear a lot of t-shirts (I'm normally a polo sort of guy) but I absolutely must have this t-shirt. Oh crap, no wait, this one. OMG.

So. Awesome.

[Link via Freakgirl.]

Old People Can Be Poofs Too

I'm currently working for The Big Christian Charity in a service that works with the elderly. My workmate in the office is a very funny young Italian girl. Here is a conversation we had a short while ago:

Her: This client's name is Peter*, but it says here that his partner's name is Greg*.
Me: Mmmmm hmm?
Her: But he's like 70 years old.
Me: [laughing] So? His partner must be a man.
Her: But he's 70 years old!
Me: [laughing] So, old people can be poofs too.
Her: [laughing] I know, but...
Me: But he's 70 years old.
Her: Right.
Me: ...and what, you're thinking it was only invented recently.
Her: [laughing] I guess so!

* Names changed to protect the elderly and homosexual.

English Takes A Beating

I know that my hangover has set me to a shorter fuse than normal, but someone here at work just sent me an email to inform me that a form on our system has been OBSOLETED... and it made me want to break something.

5 Life Lessons For A Thursday Morning

1. Thursday morning hangovers are Not Good. For a start you can't console yourself with thoughts of "I just have to make it to the weekend".
   
2. Does it mean you had a good time if you seem to have one less item of clothing the next morning? Ok, it's only a scarf but the principle still applies, right?
   
3. On a cold, wintery, hangover morn the smell of bacon frying is extremely seductive. Like crack seductive. Even to vegetarians. (Or this one at least. But no, I didn't. I sure thought about it though...)
   
4. Be sure and check the train station boards before boarding the train. Lest you might look out the window only to find your station whizzing past, as you are on an express train to parts unknown. (At least I got more of my Sudoku done.)
   
5. Some mornings you notice someone checking you out and you think to yourself "That's nice. I've still got it going on." and then on other mornings, like this morning, you spot someone checking you out, notice the big fat wedding ring on the finger, and think to yourself "Eh, whatever."
   

Workplace Hazards

I'm trying to be good. I am. I'm trying to stay on the path of righteousness and rectitude, but yesterday the boss bought us all pizza for lunch and in the afternoon everyone was dished up chocolate cake (special occasion: unknown). Today three seperate people have come into my office and left me chocolates of some description.

Are these people mad? Would they install a slot machine if they knew I had a gambling problem? Would they declare every Wednesday "Open Bar Day" if they knew I had an AA membership? I mean, ok, either of those addictions could escape notice at a casual glance. But can't these people see that I have an issue?

One glance at the double chin and the muffin top isn't enough?

::help:: ::they're killing me::

Parasols & Engine Oil

I just saw this over at Pipedreams, and given what a complete and utter Firefly tragic I am, just had to take a stab at it.

Your results:
You are Kaylee Frye (Ship Mechanic)

• You are good at fixing things.
  
• You are usually cheerful.
  
• You appreciate being treated with delicacy and specialness.

(Hey! Yes I'm good with my hands and I'm kind of a cheerful person, but they left out my fondness for parasols and Dr Tam! Oh, Simon! Sadly, like Kaylee I ain't had nothing twixt my nethers for a while either.)

Click here to take the "Which Serenity character are you?" quiz...

From this point forward I expect to be treated with delicacy and specialness, even though from a grammar point of view that really sucks!

Just One Of The Reasons Why I Love The TV Show "Torchwood"

..but it's a good one!

More Blogflat Than Blogsphere

Does anyone else think that The Internetz has its own tides? Its own cycles and ebbs and flows? Biorhythms? I know I only dip my toe into one tiny corner of the blogsphere, but it seems like we're either all really firing, shooting out killer entries and polishing our sparkling wit, or else we're all kind of flat and uninspired?

Ok, that's a generalisation I admit (and apologies to those of you who are currently creating entries that shine like diamonds, and there are some of you) but I've been struggling with a lack of inspiration recently and it seems like I'm not alone. I'd like to blame the weather (it's certainly been miserable around these parts of late), or the spirits of the spheres and the ether, but it doesn't seem to be that simple, or that mysterious.

Maybe it's viral? Maybe we need to culture some fast replicating memes? A booster shot to innoculate ourselves against creeping ennui? To start a course of anti-boredom drugs to shore up our flagging inspiration?

This Stella needs to get her groove back.

To Market, To Market

..except I didn't go there to buy a fat pig.

Man I had a great weekend! Saturday morning I was up at the godless hour of 5.45am and out the door just around 6.45 to go to the monthly Growers' Market at Pyrmont. I hadn't been before but my friend Judy and her son John are regulars and had all the inside scoop. I was a little uncertain about getting there so early, I mean 6.45 on a weeked is just cruel, but it was a wise choice. We were able to walk around and look at all the produce and fantastic gourmet foods, but by 8am the place was packed. The emphasis was definately on the 'gourmet' end of the spectrum, but it was amazing to meet the producers, talk to them about their wares, taste new things and see what's on offer. It was a really friendly atmosphere, aside from talking to the stall holders I stopped a number of times and chatted to people about their dogs, or what they were buying.

Afterwards Judy and I headed off to have breakfast, before doing a small crawl of the yarn stores. Sadly one was closed for stocktaking (On a Saturday? Wouldn't it have been better to do it on a nice quiet day during the week guys?). I scored some new needles to take a stab at knitting some socks, and Judy scored all sorts of goodies. Having started so early it felt like we had a packed a whole day's worth of activity, but it was only like 11 o'clock.

After lunch at Judy's house we headed into Newtown for the fortnightly Sydney Sity Klickers knitting get together. This time we had a pair of international guests! James of Fibre Alive blog and his partner Ian.


Judy knitting 'sea silk' (left). Judy, James and Kerry (right).


Chenille yarn (left), and sea greens lace weight yarn (right).


Bex and the world's largest yarn ball (left). Kerry kitting socks (right).

After all that activity I was completely knackered, so spent a quiet Saturday night in. Sunday was cold and wet, so I hung around the house for the morning before heading off to the pub knitting get together in the early afternoon. Despite the weather we had a really good turn out, about a dozen hardy souls all in all. It rained, we knitted, I worked at untangling the major mess I managed to turn a perfectly good skein of sock weight yarn into, we had a few beers and chatted up a storm. A really nice way to spend a wintery afternoon.

So. It sounds like a big weekend of knitting, but really the focus was on the social. Both the Sydney Sity Klickers group and the pub knitting group are really fun and varied groups of people, with a heavy focus on the social and information sharing aspects of knitting together. It was one of those weekends where you look back on Sunday night and think, now that was fun.

Easily Lead

I came across this picture on a French fashion blog, and I keep going back and looking at it over and over again. As far as I can tell it's from the launch presentation for a Victor & Rolf fragrance Antidote. (I sure wish I spoke French, because I'd love to be able to read everything brieuc75 has to say, but instead I'll have to content myself with all the pretty pictures. This blog is a great source of fantastic fashion images.)



I love the look, the style and the elegance of these guys in formal dress dancing together. I think part of the appeal for me is about men subverting a traditionally heterosexual activity like ballroom dancing. But then, I've always loved the look of a man in formal dress anyway, a pair of them is a bonus.

What I was actually Google searching for when I found this blog were pictures of my latest crush, fashion designer Gaspard Yurkievich:



Le sigh. The same designer who scandalised the press with a fashion show that had all the (fully dressed) male models simulating group sex on a pair of green leather sofas. Doesn't that just make you love him even more?

The Gifts Tell The Story

I completely forgot to tell you guys about my farewell last week at my old job. We went out for lunch, which given The Big Christian Charity's stance on The Demon Alcohol was nice but a very dry affair, and I managed to sit far enough away from my nemesis that we only had a few uncomfortable moments. (Given that we'd had a big fight the day before. And given that she mentioned twice in conversation that she had 'increased my blood pressure'. Probably true.)

It was nice though, and I was really touched that a bunch of the staff gave me farewell gifts. Some of our workers who act in a carer sort of capacity are not well paid, the injustice of which is a whole other topic, but yet still gave me small gifts to say goodbye.

Basically my gift haul can be broken down into two categories, and it's interesting to me what it says about how people percieve me. Arty and Foody. Because of my photography, drawing and other 'craft' stuff that I do quite a few of the staff gave me awesome gifts of sketchbooks, art materials, and a couple of photography books. And then because of my love of food, and cooking, I received quite a lot of chocolates and a thoroughly awesome tiered cupcake holder 'tree' thing. Sweet.

I was glad to be moving on, but it was touching to think that I was held in fairly high regard by 95% of the staff (nemesis excluded). And fun to think that I'm the 'arty' guy to most of them.

Past Love

I did something yesterday that I hadn't ever done before, I Googled an ex-boyfriend.

It was partly prompted by a discussion I had at the pub on Wednesday night, about the early days of AIDS education in Australia. Way back in the latter half of the '80s I dated a lovely man called Simon who was an AIDS researcher. Specifically researching the safer sex activities of men, those who identify as 'gay' or 'bi' and those who have sex with men but don't include themselves in those categories. The success or failure of education campaigns was extremely topical then, and is still now. Through Simon I got to attend an international AIDS conference and meet an amazing group of people. I still treasure the signed cassette (cassette!, remember those?) given to me by the late singer/songwriter/actor Michael Callen who I made friends with at that conference (He's perhaps best known for singing cameos in the movies "Philadelphia" and "Zero Patience", the latter in which he played Miss HIV in drag).

Anyhoo, all this train of thought had me thinking about Simon. So I Googled him and there he was. Older, greyer, but still just as tall and strikingly handsome. And I'm glad to see, still fighting the good fight against HIV but now from his base at a University in the US.

It was funny looking at him on a computer screen, across a gap of around 20 years. Simon was a great guy to be with, funny and a bit goofy (and just between you and me, dynamite in the sack!) and if I had been a bit older and wiser I wouldn't have made some of the silly mistakes I did in our relationship. I also dated him around the time I took off backpacking around Europe and then relocated to Sydney, so the timing was bad.

It's funny the things you remember about people. The parties, the times spent lying in bed watching tapes of the US cable tv show Brothers (about a trio of brothers, one of whom is gay), the sex (oh man, the sex!) and Simon introducing me to the camp music of duo Romanovsky & Phillips. Ah, good times.

Interestingly, he's listed himself on a social networking website so that people from his past can contact him. I wonder if I should?... I'd like to thank him for the good times we had, and tell him how even though we dated for less than a year that he had a big impact on me both then and still.

Maybe I will.

It's Their Duty To Be Beautiful

One of my favourite Flickr photographers has started up a blog to showcase his beautiful male nudes, Patrick Lentz Photography (not surprisingly, NSFW!). Patrick not only has great skill with the camera, but I like that not all his models are modelly pretty boys.

For a broader range of his photography check out his Flickr profile Violentz (which has even more nudity, so be forewarned).

[Sorry for the paucity of pulchitrude and profanity today. I've been a bit busy, a bit tired after a night out last night, and a lot uninspired today. Not surprisingly, Patrick's boys perked me up a bit! We resume normal transmission tomorrow, thank you for your patience.]

Why Do I Never Get Protested Against?

I mean, c'mon! If our boring old Prime Minister can get this sort of action, then surely the rest of us can get in on it. I could do something topical. Or boring. Or poorly thought out. I do that sort of shit all the time.

From the Sydney Morning Herald - story here.
"Climate Change Ski Team member Josh Brown of Bega is led away after his protest."
Photo: Glen McCurtayne

Let's not forget that it's winter here and, ahem, that means cold and that means traditionally a degree of, well, shrinkage. So all I can say is Josh, nice work dude.

Colourful Cabins

A little while back I decided to support the charity Wrap With Love by knitting some squares to be made up into blankets. I think the aims of the charity are admirable and also very practical, which really appealed to me. I like the fact that anyone who contributes can see something measurable and concrete that they have contributed towards. Plus the format of the squares allows people to express their creativity, while being a nice small portable project to cart around to the various knitting get togethers I go to.



I thought it would be fun to try out some new techinques on these too, so I did a few squares based on the log cabin knitting idea popularised by the good women of Mason-Dixon knitting. The yarn isn't expensive, but it's 100% wool and I put some thought into a range of colours that would look nice together and still have some vibrancy to them. I'm really pleased with them so far, and plan on knitting a few more (plus some plain squares to go with them) before the big knit in at the ABC towards the end of the month.



I realised a while back that I could do a lot more for charity. I don't have a lot of spare cash to donate, but I can give of my time, creativity and care in a way that will hopefully give someone else a degree of comfort.

Rites Of Spring

I've been sitting here in the office all day today looking out the window at the mild sunny day passing me by outside. My good mood is still definately in place but the day has been taunting me with tricksy soft-voiced promises of Spring, even though we're only part way through Winter here. Not even a regular generic Winter, but the coldest June in many, many years which followed along after the warmest May in many, many years. Now that's a world gone mad, and it's just plain cruel.

Anyhoo, I always get ansty like this part way through Winter. You know that by now. The first warm day has me planning long cool drinks in a sunny courtyard, picnics, and photo safaris to the beach. Only to be sorely vexed when I have to drag out the overcoat and brolly tomorrow.

Maybe this year I'll just start a Spring 'To Do' list early.

Ridiculously Good

Oh man, it's like I woke up with a bluebird chirping on the windowsill and a powder blue sky filled with rainbows this morning. I swear Dick Van Dyke is about to pop his head through the window and sing me a happy tune (in a dodgy Cockney accent) any moment now. You know? When you have one of those days when all's right with the world? Giddy almost.

I'm easily pleased I guess. All it takes is a good night's sleep, the last vestiges of my bronchitis being on their way, a warm and sunny Spring-like day, a morning commute that has dropped from one and a half hours to 8 minutes (isn't that just ridiculous?) and the next thing you know I'm skipping the streets like I have a coterie of animated friends.

Ok, there was no actual skipping (or animated friends for that matter) but I kind of felt like it.

I am not complaining. If I could bottle this and pop it into my nightstand I would. In a little bottle that I could take sips from every now and then.

A Weekend Of Contrasts

If Saturday was labelled 'chalk' or 'black' or even 'Laurel', then that would make Sunday 'cheese' or 'white' or 'Hardy'. You couldn't get two days more dissimilar. Like matter and anti-matter.

Saturday I did absolutely nothing. Zip. Nada. Sure I showered, did a bit of laundry, did some knitting, and at one point took a walk down the street, but that's it. I didn't do anything social. Didn't really go anywhere. It was cool and windy, and I just kind of stayed in and futzed around, and the time passed.

Sunday on the other hand I was out the door at 8.30 am and didn't get home until 10.30 pm. My friend Judy and I hit the giant Craft & Quilting Fair (shut up) at Darling Harbour first thing. I bought some knitting yarn, we found things both hideous and fabulous to look at, we wandered and wondered.

[Updated: Oh, I should add that one of the highlights of the craft fair was being mistaken for a woman. Judy and I were perusing some yarns, and even though I was sort of turned half towards her, the stall owner said "Can I help you girls?" And you know what, she wasn't being ironic. I would have thought the short crew cut and beard would have tipped her off, but apparently men don't buy yarn. It's a question od context maybe?]

Afterward I hauled ass over to the 75th birthday celebrations for the ABC (the nation's public broadcaster) to have a look around and meet my friend James for lunch. I'm pretty good with crowds, but after a couple of hours of the crush of humanity and playing Dodgem Cars with my shins Vs a few too many strollers I was just about ready to leave (or kill).

Some of the assembled hordes. Note the hundreds of shin destroying strollers.

It was at this exact breaking point when James rescued me by taking me to lunch. As it turns out a Yum Cha lunch in Chinatown + a beer was the perfect antidote. Who knew?

The set of one of my favourite shows "At The Movies", unfortunately sans Margaret & David

James works for the ABC and was being a 'talent' wrangler for the day, so he headed back to face the hordes and I headed off to my third social engagement of the day.

The set of "The Chaser's War On Everything". Kind of like every university share house I have ever visited, only with a model Trojan Horse and stronger lighting.

I met Mikey (the lovely ex) for a few beers at The Green Park hotel in Darlinghurst, or as it turns out the home of the Beautiful People. Man, it's winter here which traditionally means a degree of hibernation, but that memo didn't get around because not only was the pub packed but the handsome quotient was even higher than normal. It was both fabulous and daunting, in roughly equal measures. After a couple of hours we were joined by some more friends, and then headed back to Steve & Bec's house for dinner. A few hours of good food, wine and conversation later and I was headed home in a cab.

Phew.

So that's my weekend accounted for. How was yours?