I'm determined to change my ways. No, correction, I've started changing my ways.
I can be a bit of a horder, especially with books and magazines. I often re-read them, and I don't know maybe it's that I relish all the ideas, the inspiration that they provide, that makes me want to hang onto them. Who can say? So, first the 5 bags of books were sold/given away. Then last night, while "So You Think You Can Dance" was on (Pasha, Cameron, call me m'kay? I'm listed.) I started tackling the magazines. Stacks of home decorating magazines from several years ago all bit the dust, after I had flicked through them and had torn out anything I thought was particularly striking or memorable, and the odd recipe here and there.
One line was drawn in the sand. Martha stays.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Some Days
Maybe it's just me, but some days you wake up feeling (how do I put this delicately?) horny. And the only thing worth considering is a few rounds of hot and dirty monkey sex with Will Arnett.
Maybe it is just me.
Maybe it is just me.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Big Loves
Two of my unpursued career ambitions as a teen were a) architect and b) archeologist. (I won't mention the other career ambitions, but they mostly involve variations on making pretty/shiny things or taking Broadway by storm. Consequently my parents were somewhat happier about the idea of making buildings or scrabbling in the dirt, than oh, say, being a couturier.)
Anyhoo, enough about my childhood pain! That's what therapy is for, right?
Consequently, as an adult I am obsessed with a couple of UK tv shows. Grand Designs and Time Team. The episodes we have on our tv here are years old, but does that tarnish my love for them? Hell no.
I love the way "Grand Designs" follows a building project from first breaking of the soil to the finished building. Some of the homes they have covered are amazing. And Kevin. I love Kevin. I dream of Kevin whispering sweet nothings to me like "mullions" or "flashing" in that clipped, sometimes slightly judgemental, British accent. And when he looks into camera and let's it be known in that subtle way he has that he thinks the owners are mad, the architect a bit of a no-hoper bastard and (say it isn't so) the building might never be finished, well he just makes me love him that bit more.
Being all "Mr Butch In A Hardhat" (left)
All smart in a dinner suit, but Kev what's that expression? Somewhat of a Gay Face, don't you think? (FYI, he has a wife and kids apparently.)
And "Time Team". Oh how you make me want to claw at myself in pleasure you whacky British archeologists, with your regional accents and your demi-ugly knitwear. You only have 3 days! to complete each dig, and the tension just about kills me! (Oddly, nobody seems to have ever asked or answered the question "Why only 3 days?" I mean, they're all archeologists, it's their day job, right? It's not like they have to be back at work on Monday.)
The tension is palpable. Will geo-phys gets the results in on time? Iron Age or Bronze Age? Does Mick own any other style of knitwear?
Struggle
I don't know if it's the stars, fate, my on and off again insomnia, or my imagination, but this week so far has been like one long slog uphill. Work is kicking my ass at the moment, money is tight until payday tomorrow and my sciatica is still making me feel 100 years old. I kind of think this blog has reflected that mood to some degree, but then I am my own harshest critic after all.
Actually, Anonymous who left me some lovely homophobic comments on some old posts recently is probably my harshest critic, but then Anonymous never was known for their kindness.
Oh my God, do you hear that? Whinge, whinge, whinge right? Gah. Next thing you know I'll be turning into one of those teen bloggers that describes their blogs as "random thoughts and ravings". (Pet hate, the descriptor "random" about things that clearly aren't. FYI. Ditto "awesome".)
Anyhoo. There is light at the end of the tunnel, the good kind of light not the 'train approaching' kind of light. On Monday a new staff member starts, which means I can go back to doing just one job instead of two, and I can take up my promotion once that person is trained. Tomorrow is pay day (HUZZAH!). Friday I start physiotherapy to hopefully improve the sciatica situation. Tomorrow night is "So You Think You Can Dance Night".
As the young people say, "It's all good". OMG, that's so random.
[Updated: 11:55am. Actually, today has gotten a bit better already, or at least my attitude to it has. I credit you in part, I mean you're such a good listener. We're talking catharsis here. You should get paid for doing this, really. OK, you're a little taciturn right now but at least you don't interrupt. Wanna make out a little?]
Actually, Anonymous who left me some lovely homophobic comments on some old posts recently is probably my harshest critic, but then Anonymous never was known for their kindness.
Oh my God, do you hear that? Whinge, whinge, whinge right? Gah. Next thing you know I'll be turning into one of those teen bloggers that describes their blogs as "random thoughts and ravings". (Pet hate, the descriptor "random" about things that clearly aren't. FYI. Ditto "awesome".)
Anyhoo. There is light at the end of the tunnel, the good kind of light not the 'train approaching' kind of light. On Monday a new staff member starts, which means I can go back to doing just one job instead of two, and I can take up my promotion once that person is trained. Tomorrow is pay day (HUZZAH!). Friday I start physiotherapy to hopefully improve the sciatica situation. Tomorrow night is "So You Think You Can Dance Night".
As the young people say, "It's all good". OMG, that's so random.
[Updated: 11:55am. Actually, today has gotten a bit better already, or at least my attitude to it has. I credit you in part, I mean you're such a good listener. We're talking catharsis here. You should get paid for doing this, really. OK, you're a little taciturn right now but at least you don't interrupt. Wanna make out a little?]
The Top 25 (Maybe With A Couple Of Bottoms)
I just caught this story in the paper this morning. At a ceremony at the Art Gallery of NSW last night social networking site SameSame announced their list of Australia's 25 most influencial gays and lesbians. Results were apparently tallied from thousands of votes from both outside and within the gay community.
A pdf of all the winners is here. It's a varied list, with the famous and the not so well known. Adam Sutton, the gay cowboy biographer I met at a book signing, and the fabulous musician, "Hedwig & The Angry Inch Star" (and soon to be starring in "The Rocky Horror Show") iOta make the list. As does Justice Kirby who I met at a group dinner at an AIDS conference many years ago, local drag queen Mitzi Macintosh who I have met through a friend and one person who's sister I'm friends with. (Gee, guess I'm better connected than I gave myself credit for!)
I don't know how usefull these sorts of awards are, but I guess I would argue that visibility is a good thing, from my point of view. Some of the award recipients were being awarded for that, being open about their sexuality in their very public lives, and others for working directly with the gay community. These sorts of lists always start discussions, and to be honest I think it would be nice if we didn't have to award people purely for being visible in the public eye.
However, in the world we currently live in there is still value in being open and noticed. To let people know that we are everywhere!
(Thank goodness.)
A pdf of all the winners is here. It's a varied list, with the famous and the not so well known. Adam Sutton, the gay cowboy biographer I met at a book signing, and the fabulous musician, "Hedwig & The Angry Inch Star" (and soon to be starring in "The Rocky Horror Show") iOta make the list. As does Justice Kirby who I met at a group dinner at an AIDS conference many years ago, local drag queen Mitzi Macintosh who I have met through a friend and one person who's sister I'm friends with. (Gee, guess I'm better connected than I gave myself credit for!)
I don't know how usefull these sorts of awards are, but I guess I would argue that visibility is a good thing, from my point of view. Some of the award recipients were being awarded for that, being open about their sexuality in their very public lives, and others for working directly with the gay community. These sorts of lists always start discussions, and to be honest I think it would be nice if we didn't have to award people purely for being visible in the public eye.
However, in the world we currently live in there is still value in being open and noticed. To let people know that we are everywhere!
(Thank goodness.)
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Autumn
Spring seems to have barely just begun here in Sydney, yet for some reason my mind keeps wandering to the chilly days of Autumn. Frosty mornings. Leaves underfoot...
Say, any of you boys called Russell?
In Russia, tiny fig leaf wear YOU!
Now everybody! "It's fun to stay at the..."
Say, any of you boys called Russell?
In Russia, tiny fig leaf wear YOU!
Now everybody! "It's fun to stay at the..."
Lost & Found
On the short walks this morning from home to the train station, from the train station to my office, and then to the local shopping centre and back at lunchtime, I saw the following items either on the footpath or in the gutter:
Props for colour co-ordination, right? There's a whole sombre grey/black story happening here, which while not exactly to my taste at least has the kicky note of pink to liven things up a bit.
Put logic aside for the moment, and the fact that these items were streets and even suburbs apart. What do we think is happening here? Modern day Hansel & Gretel? A couple with a poorly functioning suitcase? Or maybe they are driving around so completely overcome with sexual abandon that they have to pull over and shag like bunnies (discarding garments without gay abandon) as they go?
Fantasy aside, how do you lose a pair of underpants? Really? The glove and the hairband, sure. The sock, maybe a little harder to understand.
But underpants?
- 1 x pair men's underpants, black
- 1 x pair ladies' panties, grey with black lace trim
- 1 x man's sock, black and grey argyle (size extra large by the look of it)
- 1 x pink elastic hair band
- 1 x black woolen glove (left)
Props for colour co-ordination, right? There's a whole sombre grey/black story happening here, which while not exactly to my taste at least has the kicky note of pink to liven things up a bit.
Put logic aside for the moment, and the fact that these items were streets and even suburbs apart. What do we think is happening here? Modern day Hansel & Gretel? A couple with a poorly functioning suitcase? Or maybe they are driving around so completely overcome with sexual abandon that they have to pull over and shag like bunnies (discarding garments without gay abandon) as they go?
Fantasy aside, how do you lose a pair of underpants? Really? The glove and the hairband, sure. The sock, maybe a little harder to understand.
But underpants?
Monday, October 08, 2007
You Know There Is A Generation Gap When...
...you have to try and explain who Joan Collins is.
I mean, for crying out loud. It's not like I work with a bunch of off-shore oilmen or something, men who you might expect not to know their Joan Collins from their Sally Kirlkand. For whom Liza requires a surname. Those sorts of men. Manly men. But this was one of the women I work with.
In the process of trying to explain, you then have to explain what Dynasty was.
I mean, for crying out loud. It's not like I work with a bunch of off-shore oilmen or something, men who you might expect not to know their Joan Collins from their Sally Kirlkand. For whom Liza requires a surname. Those sorts of men. Manly men. But this was one of the women I work with.
In the process of trying to explain, you then have to explain what Dynasty was.
Weekend Recap, Now With Pictures!
Compared to the social whirligig and hullabalu of last weekend, this weekend was a more relaxed and sedate affair. As befits a man of my advancing years.
Saturday morning (early, early morning) saw myself, Judy and her handsome son John tackle the monthly Pyrmont Growers' Market. I don't know whether it was the unseasonably warm weather, the early sunrise or some memo was passed around, but it was packed. Maybe it was the mountains of cheap new season asparagus?
This gear makes your pee smell, just so you know. Forewarned and all that. I didn't buy any asparagus (q.v. Asparagus: smelly pee) but I did buy a gorgeous bunch of really dark purple Sweet Peas, which really looked the business in one of my pale green 'Depression Glass' vases that used to belong to my mother.
(I collect this glassware, although it has started to get really expensive now. Which is more than ironic because it was super cheap glassware in its day, and was at the height of its popularity during The Depression. I have about a dozen pieces now.)
Saturday I decided to have a quiet night in (this is becoming a pattern), but as it turns out not such an enjoyable one. I've had really disturbed sleep of late, which is usual for me at the first blast of warm weather as it always takes me a while to adjust to the warmer nights. I turned in about midnight, but was woken up around 12.30am by a) a pizza delivery guy banging on the front door, b) my flatmate tromping up the hallway and c) said flatmate standing right outside my bedroom door calling out "Sweetie, hurry up! The pizza is here!". I have a problematic relationship with sleep at the best of times, and being woken up like this is officialy Not Good. You know Mr Furious from "Mystery Men"? We share a super power. After I got out of bed, stomped through the house, yelled at my flatmate and his boyfriend, and slammed a few doors. I didn't really feel any better, but I might have made my point. Maybe. If you wake me up by accident, fine, I can live with that. Wake me up through a lack of consideration or rudeness, then look out.
Anyhoo. Yesterday I hung out with Mikey (the lovely ex), who was dog/house/tropical fish sitting for our friends Bec & Steve. Mikey's new boyfriend Evan was away in Melbourne for the weekend, for a friend's birthday, so Mikey and I just hung out, had lunch, a beer at The Green Park Hotel, a bottle of yummy Veuve Clicquot pink champagne and then an early Thai dinner.
Part of the fun of hanging out at Steve & Bec's place is Rex the Papillion. Aka the Leaf Thief:
The aftermath:
It's a massacre!
Saturday morning (early, early morning) saw myself, Judy and her handsome son John tackle the monthly Pyrmont Growers' Market. I don't know whether it was the unseasonably warm weather, the early sunrise or some memo was passed around, but it was packed. Maybe it was the mountains of cheap new season asparagus?
This gear makes your pee smell, just so you know. Forewarned and all that. I didn't buy any asparagus (q.v. Asparagus: smelly pee) but I did buy a gorgeous bunch of really dark purple Sweet Peas, which really looked the business in one of my pale green 'Depression Glass' vases that used to belong to my mother.
(I collect this glassware, although it has started to get really expensive now. Which is more than ironic because it was super cheap glassware in its day, and was at the height of its popularity during The Depression. I have about a dozen pieces now.)
Saturday I decided to have a quiet night in (this is becoming a pattern), but as it turns out not such an enjoyable one. I've had really disturbed sleep of late, which is usual for me at the first blast of warm weather as it always takes me a while to adjust to the warmer nights. I turned in about midnight, but was woken up around 12.30am by a) a pizza delivery guy banging on the front door, b) my flatmate tromping up the hallway and c) said flatmate standing right outside my bedroom door calling out "Sweetie, hurry up! The pizza is here!". I have a problematic relationship with sleep at the best of times, and being woken up like this is officialy Not Good. You know Mr Furious from "Mystery Men"? We share a super power. After I got out of bed, stomped through the house, yelled at my flatmate and his boyfriend, and slammed a few doors. I didn't really feel any better, but I might have made my point. Maybe. If you wake me up by accident, fine, I can live with that. Wake me up through a lack of consideration or rudeness, then look out.
Anyhoo. Yesterday I hung out with Mikey (the lovely ex), who was dog/house/tropical fish sitting for our friends Bec & Steve. Mikey's new boyfriend Evan was away in Melbourne for the weekend, for a friend's birthday, so Mikey and I just hung out, had lunch, a beer at The Green Park Hotel, a bottle of yummy Veuve Clicquot pink champagne and then an early Thai dinner.
Part of the fun of hanging out at Steve & Bec's place is Rex the Papillion. Aka the Leaf Thief:
The aftermath:
It's a massacre!
Saturday, October 06, 2007
Tipso-Dipsomania
I do so like a tasty beverage of the alcoholic variety.
At certain times in my life, in fact even for much of the life of this blog, I have been a tee-totaller. For years at a time. Even now I'll sometimes go weeks without a drink, unless a social situation involving alcohol rears its head. I normally don't ever have any alcohol at home, primarily for that reason, that I only drink socially. I'm a 'take it or leave it' kind of guy.
Having said that, I have a new blog love. Jay Hepburn is a twenty something mixologist living in London, who writes a very informative and entertaining blog about cocktails, Oh Gosh!.
I found Jay's blog through the LGBT blog listings at Globe Of Blogs, so I assume he is of the homosexualist persuasion. I mean, he set out to mix the cocktails featured in "Sex & The City" so, like, you tell me right? Anyhoo, the topic is very much cocktails (the drinkable kind) and Jay provides lots of good advice, anecdotes, reviews, recipes and some snappy writing.
Check it out and get mixing like responsible adults who drink in moderation.
At certain times in my life, in fact even for much of the life of this blog, I have been a tee-totaller. For years at a time. Even now I'll sometimes go weeks without a drink, unless a social situation involving alcohol rears its head. I normally don't ever have any alcohol at home, primarily for that reason, that I only drink socially. I'm a 'take it or leave it' kind of guy.
Having said that, I have a new blog love. Jay Hepburn is a twenty something mixologist living in London, who writes a very informative and entertaining blog about cocktails, Oh Gosh!.
I found Jay's blog through the LGBT blog listings at Globe Of Blogs, so I assume he is of the homosexualist persuasion. I mean, he set out to mix the cocktails featured in "Sex & The City" so, like, you tell me right? Anyhoo, the topic is very much cocktails (the drinkable kind) and Jay provides lots of good advice, anecdotes, reviews, recipes and some snappy writing.
Check it out and get mixing like responsible adults who drink in moderation.
Friday, October 05, 2007
Tightly Wound
I used to work in a watch and clock boutique many years ago. It was the latter half of the '80s and we sold only European watches and clocks. Primarily Swiss, naturally. Right up to beautiful gold things with diamonds and other precious gems, which were primarily bought by people living the Greed Is Good new money lifestyle of the '80s. Frequently with more money than taste. I would see these pieces of precision workmanship walk out the door, knowing that I could have just as easily hung the brandname and some diamonds around their wrist and they'd have been just as happy.
Come the crash of the early '90s I'll bet there was some fabulous secondhand bargains to be had.
Anyhoo. Lesson number 1 with beautiful manual watches and clocks, don't wind too tightly. Ease off when things start to get too firm. Stop before everything gets torn out of its delicate moorings. Before the carefully calibrated springs and sprockets get torn asunder, or stretched to where they'll never be the same.
Metaphor, anyone? Ay dios mio. It's month end here at work today, the person I'm supposedly job sharing with at the moment (who has been made redundant and leaves next week) didn't show for work at all this week and so I'm doing her work and mine. I slept badly last night because it was such a warm night.
I have a ton of work to do by the 5pm deadline, but I'm taking 15 minutes to write this, do a tiny bit or web surfing and hopefully stop a few turns short of being over wound.
Come the crash of the early '90s I'll bet there was some fabulous secondhand bargains to be had.
Anyhoo. Lesson number 1 with beautiful manual watches and clocks, don't wind too tightly. Ease off when things start to get too firm. Stop before everything gets torn out of its delicate moorings. Before the carefully calibrated springs and sprockets get torn asunder, or stretched to where they'll never be the same.
Metaphor, anyone? Ay dios mio. It's month end here at work today, the person I'm supposedly job sharing with at the moment (who has been made redundant and leaves next week) didn't show for work at all this week and so I'm doing her work and mine. I slept badly last night because it was such a warm night.
I have a ton of work to do by the 5pm deadline, but I'm taking 15 minutes to write this, do a tiny bit or web surfing and hopefully stop a few turns short of being over wound.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Pretty Pictures
It feels like it's time for a bit of eye candy.
I find this picture of an American footballer from somewhere around 1910 absolutely captivating. The picture itself is lovely, spare but with a beautiful quality from the shallow focal length. I find the guy in the picture so striking looking, so still and composed yet somehow brimming with energy. Plus, hello, handsome! Not everyone can pull off horizontal stripes.
Talk about rougish charm. This guy in the boat manages to look sexy, goofy, sweet and tough all at the same time. Anything but wimpy.
This photo makes me think of a young faun, or satyr maybe, bathing in the river. Almost as if it was a study for a character in a painting by J.W Waterhouse, or one of the other Pre-Raphaelite painters.
I find this picture of an American footballer from somewhere around 1910 absolutely captivating. The picture itself is lovely, spare but with a beautiful quality from the shallow focal length. I find the guy in the picture so striking looking, so still and composed yet somehow brimming with energy. Plus, hello, handsome! Not everyone can pull off horizontal stripes.
Talk about rougish charm. This guy in the boat manages to look sexy, goofy, sweet and tough all at the same time. Anything but wimpy.
This photo makes me think of a young faun, or satyr maybe, bathing in the river. Almost as if it was a study for a character in a painting by J.W Waterhouse, or one of the other Pre-Raphaelite painters.
Happy Birthday
Happy birthday Freakgirl! The confusing international dateline thingy means that it's her birthday here today, and her birthday there yesterday. Which is still today! Go figure, right?
Thanks for all the laughs FG, may there be many more.
Thanks for all the laughs FG, may there be many more.
In Russia, Bill Posters YOU!
Check out the striking (if not sometimes brutal) graphics of Soviet posters at the blog A Soviet Poster A Day.
Alexander Zakharov posts a different one (almost) daily, covering a wide variety of topics and visual styles, with a translation and background information. Fantastic!
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Do You Think They Can?
I was all excited to read that the auditions for the Australian version of "So You Think You Can Dance" kick off this weekend in Adelaide. Then I read:
Dress to impress. There's a $500 cash prize for the weirdest, wildest, most wonderfully presented dancer at EVERY audition centre.
Oh crap. It's not bad enough that we have to watch that malarky on shows like Australian Idol, home of the singing chicken suited audition, but now they are going to taint my beloved SYTYCD with the same bs. One of the things I like about the original is that despite the fact that they always show a fair percentage of delusional people who really do Think They Can Dance (but can't), the idiot Spiderman/gorilla suited auditionee factor is absent.
Don't mess with my beloved Channel Ten.
::shakes fist::
Hump-Diddly-Ump Day
I couldn't seem to stay asleep last night. We're having an unusually warm start to Spring at the moment (ie: today is going to be 34C, which is what around 90F or more?! - for those of you non-metric-y types), and I kept waking up either too hot with the quilt on or too cold with just a sheet. Time to dig out the light blanket tonight I think.
Plus I managed to scrape a chunk of skin off my right elbow (sadly, not in any entertaining way I might add, before you ask) and every time I rolled over on my side it would hurt and wake me up. Bastard elbow.
Consequently I'm dragging my ass a bit today. I did just have a very encouraging and consoling slice of homemade Bread & Butter Pudding (Nigella Lawson recipe) that my boss brought in for morning tea. (Remember how I said I thought The Christians were trying to fatten me up? Seem less like a mad conspiracy theory now, doesn't it?)
Speaking of work, the applications for my promotion close today, a formality that saw them have to do the right thing and open the applications up to other employees. As far as I know I'm still the only applicant. This should mean a nice pay increase when the position kicks in. Oh, and my flatmate went to a job interview yesterday and starts his new job today! I'm happy for him, because he's been out of work for quite a while and it'll be good for him to have some income and normalcy back in his life.
I have the office to myself today, as The Loudest Person In The Building has a day off. I wonder if I could curl up under the desk for a wee kip?...
[Updated: It has just hit 36C - 97F! Hey Spring, you're supposed to be Spring not Summer. Gah, doofus.]
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Now Stop!
I had to smile when I was scanning through this entry on Apartment Therapy and saw this picture of Aja's cute kitchen:
That EAT! graphic is super cute, but I think I would need to have other graphics on the other walls that read NOW STOP EATING!, STEP AWAY FROM THE PIZZA BOX! and ICE CREAM, AGAIN!? Oh man, I've packed on an unconscionable amout of weight this Winter just passed, and I really need to drop this now that we seem to have bypassed Spring altogether and moved straight into Summer.
Maybe I need to factor in some super-sized graphics for my home reno? GET MOVING LARDASS! maybe, for starters...
That EAT! graphic is super cute, but I think I would need to have other graphics on the other walls that read NOW STOP EATING!, STEP AWAY FROM THE PIZZA BOX! and ICE CREAM, AGAIN!? Oh man, I've packed on an unconscionable amout of weight this Winter just passed, and I really need to drop this now that we seem to have bypassed Spring altogether and moved straight into Summer.
Maybe I need to factor in some super-sized graphics for my home reno? GET MOVING LARDASS! maybe, for starters...
Old Friends & New
I've been thinking lately about how easy it is to become lazy in maintaining friendships. Particularly with friends that you have had for a long time, and that dependency, or constancy, can sort of fall into taking them for granted, you know? Also as many of my friends have started having their own families, or their own relationships, it's natural that their time and attention becomes focussed on those aspects of their lives.
I was feeling like I hadn't really been doing much lately to put active attention into some of these long term friendships of mine. I'd become sort of passive about catching up with people, enjoying seeing them when things were organised but not being active about it. It's easy to let time drift by without seeing each other.
So I thought it would be nice to have a large pinic on the holiday Monday yesterday, something that could accommodate friends with kids, friends without, friends with dogs, good food and drink, and a serious amount of lying around. Yesterday was a beautiful summery day in Sydney, although the only downside was the warm blustery wind that was whipping up a bit of a hay fever storm.
As it turns out it was also a great opportunity for Mikey (the lovely ex) to introduce his new boyfriend Evan to our circle of friends, and for us to meet a bunch of Evan's friends. It was a great afternoon with around 20 or so of us in total and all of my plans for eating, drinking and laying around were achieved. Yay! Yay for lying around with a full belly! In the late afternoon around 10 of us retired to the pub, both old friends and new, and then had a lovely Thai dinner under the stars while the heat of the afternoon mellowed into a mild evening.
By the time I got home around 8.30pm I was so knackered that I went to bed around 9 o'clock, having had a really great day.
I was feeling like I hadn't really been doing much lately to put active attention into some of these long term friendships of mine. I'd become sort of passive about catching up with people, enjoying seeing them when things were organised but not being active about it. It's easy to let time drift by without seeing each other.
So I thought it would be nice to have a large pinic on the holiday Monday yesterday, something that could accommodate friends with kids, friends without, friends with dogs, good food and drink, and a serious amount of lying around. Yesterday was a beautiful summery day in Sydney, although the only downside was the warm blustery wind that was whipping up a bit of a hay fever storm.
As it turns out it was also a great opportunity for Mikey (the lovely ex) to introduce his new boyfriend Evan to our circle of friends, and for us to meet a bunch of Evan's friends. It was a great afternoon with around 20 or so of us in total and all of my plans for eating, drinking and laying around were achieved. Yay! Yay for lying around with a full belly! In the late afternoon around 10 of us retired to the pub, both old friends and new, and then had a lovely Thai dinner under the stars while the heat of the afternoon mellowed into a mild evening.
By the time I got home around 8.30pm I was so knackered that I went to bed around 9 o'clock, having had a really great day.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Life Is A [Insert Word Here]
Cabaret. Of course, old chums.
I love theatre, I love music, and I love a good show tune. So it's no surprise that I love cabaret. A few days ago James O'Brien asked me if I wanted to come along to an evening of cabaret at The Stables Theatre, and I jumped at the chance.
I have a soft spot for The Stables Theatre. It actually is a converted horse stables. Once you climb the stairs from the small downstairs bar and ticket office, you find yourself in a space roughly the size of a large living room, with a small triangular stage and about 6 rows of tiered bench seating on two sides of the triangle. It's a small space, but there's a magic that can happen in that place. You are close enough to almost reach out and touch the performers, and because of the limitations of the space most of the productions are spare in terms of sets and trickery, so what you get is an intimate performance and not a lot of fakery. I've seen some wonderful shows there, the touching gay love story "Holding The Man" and a rollicking and very moving musical called "Only Heaven Knows" just to name two.
Anyhoo. The night was a fundraiser for another production to be staged later in the year. The Stables runs on a shoestring, good will, benefactors, fundraisers and an enthusiastic audience that appreciates this sort of up close and personal, sometimes raw and experimental, sort of theatre. It's so important I think to have a theatre that can stage new local works, which is what The Stables is able to do.
Last night's line up of 22 cabaret artistes performed around 25-26 songs. Some artists like Hayden Tee, Phil Scott and Chloe Dallimore are well known and others like the stunning 17 year old Elanoa Rokabaro are just starting to dazzle new audiences. It was wonderful (yes I can tell I'm gushing). The performers chose songs on the theme of Crime & Passion, so there were standards, original songs and even a hilarious intense version of "Guilty" by Banarama and an operatic "Janey's Got A Gun". A couple of the performances were ok, but most of them were fantastic. One of the theatre events where the dialogue between the performer and the audience creates something really special.
It was the first time I had met James's friend Colin, a retired head of drama from one of the large regional university campuses, and he was an absolute hoot. Hanging out in the laneway outside the theatre with a glass of wine at intermission (traditional at The Stables) I was introduced to a couple of actors and performers from the show. Afterwards we went for a late dinner nearby, and had some more laughs.
It was a great night, and a great reminder how much I love the theatre, darlings.
I love theatre, I love music, and I love a good show tune. So it's no surprise that I love cabaret. A few days ago James O'Brien asked me if I wanted to come along to an evening of cabaret at The Stables Theatre, and I jumped at the chance.
I have a soft spot for The Stables Theatre. It actually is a converted horse stables. Once you climb the stairs from the small downstairs bar and ticket office, you find yourself in a space roughly the size of a large living room, with a small triangular stage and about 6 rows of tiered bench seating on two sides of the triangle. It's a small space, but there's a magic that can happen in that place. You are close enough to almost reach out and touch the performers, and because of the limitations of the space most of the productions are spare in terms of sets and trickery, so what you get is an intimate performance and not a lot of fakery. I've seen some wonderful shows there, the touching gay love story "Holding The Man" and a rollicking and very moving musical called "Only Heaven Knows" just to name two.
Anyhoo. The night was a fundraiser for another production to be staged later in the year. The Stables runs on a shoestring, good will, benefactors, fundraisers and an enthusiastic audience that appreciates this sort of up close and personal, sometimes raw and experimental, sort of theatre. It's so important I think to have a theatre that can stage new local works, which is what The Stables is able to do.
Last night's line up of 22 cabaret artistes performed around 25-26 songs. Some artists like Hayden Tee, Phil Scott and Chloe Dallimore are well known and others like the stunning 17 year old Elanoa Rokabaro are just starting to dazzle new audiences. It was wonderful (yes I can tell I'm gushing). The performers chose songs on the theme of Crime & Passion, so there were standards, original songs and even a hilarious intense version of "Guilty" by Banarama and an operatic "Janey's Got A Gun". A couple of the performances were ok, but most of them were fantastic. One of the theatre events where the dialogue between the performer and the audience creates something really special.
It was the first time I had met James's friend Colin, a retired head of drama from one of the large regional university campuses, and he was an absolute hoot. Hanging out in the laneway outside the theatre with a glass of wine at intermission (traditional at The Stables) I was introduced to a couple of actors and performers from the show. Afterwards we went for a late dinner nearby, and had some more laughs.
It was a great night, and a great reminder how much I love the theatre, darlings.
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