Monday, February 28, 2011

Just learnt something new about myself...

I can talk for 45 minutes without pausing for breath. Not even a pause for a sip of water...


Give me a microphone and I'll talk your ass off.


I put far, far too much into this presentation, had to drop big chunks on the run as the moderator kept winding me up - I felt like Julia Roberst during her Oscars speech.


I just kept right on talking through the allocated Q&A time, dear oh dear.


Poor audience! I'm nervous about waiting around for the break, they might attack.


Lesson learnt... when preparing a presentation write it then halve it. I vaguely remember from Uni learning that newsreaders speak at three words per second and I've always worked off this ratio. I must have heard wrong! Next time I'm cutting it back to 2 words, possibly 1.


So relieved its over, so relieved. And I'll know for next time too much is too much, less is more.

Time Management... not my strongest skill.

Sincere apologies... I have been so caught up with prep for this social media presentation that I am doing this morning that I haven't had time to write a post. Bad St. Murphy, bad.

This is the thing I am talking about... 

I'll let you know how it goes.

xoxo
St. Murphy

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Warts and all. Break-ups are shit!

My mentor Mrs Woog says write for yourself and not worry what others think. Makes me nervous but I'm giving it a shot. Boys don't talk about feelings, especially ones from the country. But I think it's important I try today...

Break-ups are SHIT! Knee-deep sewerage! Fucking awful!

You’ll have heard me say a few times “as far as break-ups go we’re doing real good” but its still shit. Shit. Shit. Awful, knee-dip Shit.

Now I know we aren’t the first couple to break-up and I know that a lot of couples have it a lot worse than us. But it still gets you real down, rocks your world and just makes everything else in life so much harder. Its been two and a half weeks now and I’ve really, really struggled. I'm up and down like a yo-yo, I still find it really hard to talk to people about it, I can't get the simplest of things done. But I'll have spurts where the world is my oyster, nothing impossible. I'm exhausting myself. I’m not saying this for sympathy or support, please don’t, but just because this space has become my little world where I can talk about whatever I want and say whatever is on my mind. Tell my 'story of the day'.

It’s the little things that are the hardest. Clichéd I know, and something most others have experienced themselves. For me its kinda new. I’ve had break-ups before but not on this scale. My last was after two years but by the time we broke up we lived in different cities. This is 6 years where we both dramatically changed our lives and built something really cool together and it’s so much harder to say goodbye to that than I thought it would be. How naïve is that. I just have nothing to compare this too, I don't know whats normal and whats not.

One day this week I actually called or emailed him 3 times in a few hours without even realising. And it was silly stuff like how it only cost me only $37 to have my tyre fixed and how another blogger posted me. Whatever was top of mind. It was only later in the day that I realised what I’d done and that it’s probably not kosher anymore, or particularly healthy. It’s all been so smooth between us that it didn’t even seem odd. It was a bit of a crystal ball moment that we/I have to actively change how much we rely on each other. Uggghhhh. I am definitely a creature of habit, I do not handle change well. 38 years experience tells me that.

One really upsetting thing is the ‘reporting in’. When you’re in a relationship it is so normal to let your partner know where you are and what you are doing. “Honey, held up at work, won’t be home till 8” or “made it down to Thirroul, just getting Chinese, will call you after I’ve eaten”. No need to do that anymore and that’s just plain unsettling. I still instinctually want to do it all the time. It’s this constant, subtle but harsh reminder that you don’t have your partner anymore and that hurts. Its sounds inconsequential but its not for me.

This doesn't mean I’m having second thoughts though. I know we've made the right decision, I know it’s right for both of us, as does exBoyfriend – absolutely no question about that. It’s just this ‘transitional’ phase that’s doing my head in. We are in limbo. We still share our house until I move into my apartment. In so many ways our lives are still the same. I got sick again this week – such a me thing to do – and that was the sign for both of us that we needed to move things along a little bit quicker. My psychosomatic body always tells us when I'm not dealing well. Thank god for exBoyfriend, he is a true saint. He knows my flaws better than anyone. We’ve plotted the next five weeks so that we aren’t sharing our house as much, luckily we have that option – so much easier if one of us isn’t sleeping on the lounge.

And I need to get used to not having exBoyfriend to rely on 24/7. I’ve always considered myself fiercely independent but the last 6 years has definitely changed me, how could it not. In a strange way, deep down, I sense I'm excited about what the future holds but until we get through the next few weeks its really tough to feel that.  How the hell do couples go through this if it is a one-sided or dramatic break-up? I have no idea. Must be excruciatingly hard. I have a whole new respect for anyone separating from their partner. I never really got how much it knocks you about until now.

One great thing about all of this is I have even more respect for exBoyfriend. It seems all that reality television hasn’t turned his brain to mush. He’s been my strongest support, how ironic is that. He has been amazing in every respect. It's also a brilliant sign that once we finally untangle our lives, down the track, we can be great friends. In fact, that’s the reason we were finally able to call it quits. We both knew we would be much happier as friends with our own lives. As shit as it is now, the signs are all good we’ll get there.


Note: I've deliberately taken off the Comment section for this post, sorry. Feels wrong to have replies to this cause thats not why I wrote it.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Real estate offer + Memory lane + Turducken

I’ve set myself a challenge today. I’m going to combine a real estate pitch with a trip down memory lane. It could go either way...

Background first… exBoyfriend is very good with numbers and very smart when it comes to business/lifestyle decisions. A few years ago he bought an investment place down the south coast in gorgeous Thirroul. He’s just renovated it and is now putting it on the market. I think it’s a brilliant buy, but I’m a little biased. We’ve spent many good times down there with the Inner Circle, that’s the trip down memory lane part.

A spacious and relaxed lounge and dining area opens on to a large balcony with beach / parkland views. New floorboards and lighting fixtures throughout.
Lounge & Dining
This is where we’ve done all our celebrating, such a brilliant entertaining apartment. All the smokers on the balcony are still a part of the action, Hamish Von Trapp and Irish Mark have their own special ashtray. For 3 out of the last 4 years this is where we’ve had pre-NYE drinks and post-NYE drinks, and of course recovery in front of the television NYD. Big enough for two huge lounges for dvd watching plus a dining table for me to have an active laptop/Twitter/Facebook. It also doubles as a bedroom during peak periods, lost track of the head count on that front.

A completely renovated kitchen with very large space for family fridge. Lots of cupboard space. All modern amenities including electric oven. 
Lovely, lovely...
This is where we cooked our Turducken for Xmas in ’07 and NYE ’08. Now for the un-initiated, a Turducken is a stuffed chicken, stuffed in a duck, stuffed in a turkey. It’s a South African delicacy and it will change your life! Be warned though, this mammoth piece of meat takes about 8 hours to cook but so worth the wait. You’ll swim in the leftovers for days, also why you need such a big fridge. Between the Turducken and alcohol there ain’t much room left for anything else.

Two large queen-size bedrooms. The master bedroom has brand new built-ins and fantastic ocean views. Carpeted throughout with a lovely contrast of walls between exposed dark brick and white rendering.
View laying down in Master Bed
Now primary resident in the spare room has always been Ms Obama, our dear friend from Melbourne. She loves to spend her summers up north with us. Over the crowded New Year period she has occasionally had to share her bed, this year she gave Lucky Paulie a good whack in the head while they both slept. Ms Obama loves the surf, she can spend hours in there. The kitchen is renovated green in honour of Ms Obama.

The apartment is 75m from the spectacular Thirroul beach and pool, with only parklands separating front door from sand.
...sand!
Heaven! A seriously gorgeous beach that never gets too crowded. So much Inner Circle tanning has gone here, even Miss Cal has managed a few shades darker. And the best part is that there are grass areas beside the sand so for people like me who HATE sand it is perfect. That is until this year when we got 3 fabulous banana lounges that changed my life. exBoyfriend even took a surfing lesson here. Right on the beach is Flanagans Café which does a fantastic breakfast fry-up and good, hearty meals throughout the day.

Thirroul is a friendly, fun town that has many fantastic restaurants and amenities. There are two supermarkets and lots of holiday shopping spots. Nightlife centres around Beaches Hotel.
Beaches at dusk
Beaches goes OFF! We do NYE there and the first two years it was brilliant fun, last year not so much. One year Yogi wore a wig, Top Chef went topless. We’ve camped it up like only we can and the locals love it! You gotta ask to have a drink with Cheryl, a local icon. She’s as rough as guts and a one-of-a-kind. They also do a mighty big schnitzel. After Beaches shuts it’s down to the real beach with the locals to continue the party, Lucky Paulie always takes his boom-box. All the restaurants are good but the best value-for-money, hung-over take-away is Meals Are Really Satisfying Chinese Café. You can get a shitload of MSG for very little money. Last night I had a fluorescent green prawn curry and one of the best big spring rolls I’ve ever had. The main shopping strip with cafes and everything else, including the best $2 Shop I’ve ever been too, is literally a 4min walk. So good for coffee runs, snacks, alcohol supplies and cheap homewares.
NYE at Beaches
Beaches also has accommodation if your guest numbers spill over. Our Perth Socialite and Miss Cal always stay there cause then atleast they don’t have to share a shower or fight for a mirror with 6 gayers. Plus have their own bed.

So all up, Thirroul is the best. Great place to live, a great place to weekend, a great place to cut loose. So if you want a beach getaway than you should take a look at this place, you won't regret it. And its only just over an hour from Sydney.

Ahhhh… the memories.


First Open House is this Saturday!

Dining
Inner Circle
View of balcony




Friday, February 25, 2011

Random Delights!

Ok, first cab off the rank - Guy Sebastian.


In my opinion, one of the greatest moments ever on Australian television.


That day I cried during rehearsal, I cried in the studio, and I cried again when I watched it back on tape the next day. I just teared up again watching this now.


The man is a GENIUS.


Enjoy!






And the second will only be to a few peoples liking.


Possibly the greatest swimming race ever. Certainly one of my favourites. I've never screamed so much at a television. Covered in goosebumps again watching it now.


Legendary boys, legendary!

My ego has got me into trouble again!

If I had a dollar for every time my ego got me into trouble… well I wouldn’t be sitting on this cheap couch wearing a holey t’shirt. I’d be sipping cocktails in the Maldives!

This time it’s a doozey and doesn’t actually involve a bar, a mirror or a little white lie.
Late last year I got a phone call from a guy who was organising a social media conference and he wanted to know if I would be interested in presenting. Still not sure how he got my number but I loved that he did. As everyone knows I am social media obsessed, both personally and professionally. Over the last year it has become more and more a part of my job. We’re doing some pretty cool stuff at work and that’s why he wanted to talk to me.

At the time I was feeling pretty good about myself. I had done real well with my subjects that semester for my Masters and was having visions of a life in Academia while writing fascinating lengthy texts on communications theory. I was up for anything. It’s a brave new world out there in research and I was loving it.

And. Most importantly. My ego was completely flattered that they were interested in me! And that they thought I had something to offer.

If he had of even hinted that he thought I was attractive we would now be married and living in the south of France. That’s how far gone I was.

So of course I agreed immediately which was followed by a quick chat about potential content. Then I weirdly put it to the back of my mind over summer and just knew that it was something I had coming up. I foolishly didn’t read the correspondence with an alert eye so until last week I really didn’t understand what exactly I’d got myself into. Let me cut to the chase…

It’s a 45min presentation to Marketing people about the impact and potential for social media.

Let me say that again… 45 MINUTES!
My worst nightmare.
Holy hell, I don’t even know that many words. I have no idea how many pages that is even, or slides, or whatever it is that I should be reading/showing/discussing. I have been so unbelievably stressed about it I can not tell you. It has sent me into a complete meltdown this past week as I pull together what I think it should be. I’ve got some great peeps sending me articles and helping me out, and the beautiful boys in Digital are saving my ass BIG TIME. It will certainly look schmick thanks to them. Slowly I’m getting there. As of late yesterday I am starting to think the content could actually be getting close to the money. Phew!

Which only leaves one oustanding issue. How the hell am I gonna pull it together in front of all these people!

I’ve got a lot of practice at weddings, birthdays and family events with, fair to say, mixed reviews. There was the time I accidently dropped the C-bomb at a friends 21st – Gran was not happy – that memory now haunts me. Its gonna take all my will-power in the world to not race through it and find I’m finished in 20 mins, I’d have to dance for the remaining 25. I’ve even considered wearing something revealing, with just a hint of nipple, to distract the crowd. I can’t even consider imagining them all naked cause god knows where that will take my mind. There will be many sleepless nights between now and D-day.

And all this grief just because in the briefest of moments I let my ego get away from me. Now I’m just praying that it will be one of those life experiences that seems so worth it once it is over. 

All over by 10.30am Monday.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Say Something: Josh Thomas and his grandmother

This does not require words.


Comedian Josh Thomas' Grandma shares her story for the Say Something! campaign.




It's special for so many reasons.

St. Murphy

Single gay man looking... Weight Loss!

I thought that one of the few upsides of a break-up was weight loss? This is what I have been led to believe over the years. Well it’s a fallacy, a blatant lie.

I have literally doubled in size since exBoyfriend and I broke-up two weeks ago. How you can stack on so much weight in two weeks is anyone’s guess. My pants are strained, I can only wear my big man’s shirts and the thought of exposing myself at the gym is traumatic.

I’m going to put it down to ‘comfort eating’ (well use it as an excuse anyways).

Surely at a time like this I can be forgiven for choosing Macca’s over a salad. This is an easy and quick debate in my head, such as at lunchtime yesterday. If you feel bad why should you deny yourself something that will give you pleasure.  Mmmmm…Double Quarter Pounder large meal deal with Diet Coke. Heaven! And like Princess Di, over-eating makes me feel better. Not quite the ‘hug’ Di called it, but better none-the-less.

And it seems to be playing havoc with my stomach, but I won’t bore/disgust you with those details.

exBoyfriend has been very good, he is still going to the gym everyday. Where as me, I will come up with any excuse not to go. And to be completely honest, this is the best excuse I’ve ever had. I do pack my gym bag every day but it still hasn’t left my car. Such a shame as I have some lovely new gym clothes that now probably won’t fit me.


And no one wants a chubby middle-aged gayer! There are good and bad sides to being part of a body-obsessed sub-culture such as the hummer-sexuals - great for perving but shockingly hard to keep up your own standards. Us gayers have different standards for physical 'normalcy', the bar is much higher than for the straights. Oh whoe is me...

This has been a very whingey post today, sorry. I'm being a whingey-whiney bastard. And a little unfair to exBoyfriend. This is so much more about my own flaws rather than our circumstance. We’ve been very good at taking care of each other as we untangle our lives. And I am sure once I am in my own place it will all become easier again.

I do fear though that by the time we get to that point I will be the size of a house! 

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Wine is the Devil's work!

I hate wine!

Hate the smell. Hate the taste. Hate everything.

I have a very unnatural, deep-seeded repulsion by all things wine related.


Even as an incredibly poor Uni student I couldn’t stomach it. Tried to mask the taste with equal parts red cordial and still couldn’t drink it.

My family are big wine drinkers so it has always been around me but from a very young age I’ve felt this way. It’s almost phobia-like. I’m the only one of my family and friends who doesn’t drink it so I stand out like dogs balls at EVERY social event I go to. If exBoyfriend had even had just one glass I’d kept a one meter distance as a minimum between us.
I had drinks earlier this week with Lady Marmalade (the reason for no post on Monday!), she’s Melbourne royalty. Not only does she work in the wine industry but she is also a passionate consumer of wine. As much as I am disgusted by wine, she is disgusted by my lack of interest. She has made it her mission to bring me around to the dark side but I will not fold. She’s always pushing on me the latest and best Peeno Grit or Savlon Blank like a crack dealer. Lady Marmalade, I fear I will disappoint you for the rest of our lives together as I will never be a wine drinker. I love you but not your vino.

I have to admit dinner parties are difficult for me. While other guests casually stroll in with a lovely bottle of red, I walk in with a bottle of Absolut and 2 bottles of Diet Coke. So not as glamorous I’m the first to admit. It also creates the impression that I am a hardcore alcoholic, which of course I am. Can not tell you how many times I’ve had to try and explain why I don’t drink wine, with some peoples reactions you would think I was explaining my leprosy.


Weddings, functions, parties, etc are also always difficult. Most people presume that everyone drinks either wine or beer. For me, I don’t drink either, so am forced to either travel with a hip flask or suffer sober.  My worst nightmare is a social event that serves only beer or wine AND has no cash bar. There is nothing worse than trying to relax and have a good time at an event where everyone is slowly but surely getting drunk and all I’ve got in my glass is orange juice.

So I just needed to get that off my chest. Wine is the devil. And for all of you wine drinkers, think of those who aren’t. We have feelings to you know.

Thank god I love vodka like it was my first-born.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Bro's Bucks Night

I have to admit, leading up to this momentous event I was very nervous!

While a great honour to be my brothers Best Man (can you imagine my tantrum if he had of asked someone else!) being in charge of organising the Bucks stressed me greatly. What the hell do I know about Bucks Nights, absolutely nothing. Been to many Hen’s Nights over the years but I’d never been to a Bucks before. I was Best Man for one of my oldest and dearest friends many years ago and through my own stupidity I missed the train home and missed the whole thing. It was one the dumbest days of my entire life. So my experience of such festivities is exactly zero.
I was asking everyone for advice and I just kept hearing all the old clichés. Can you imagine me booking a (female) stripper? Or picking up a golf club? These are things I never want to experience. And I’m certainly not wanting to see my brother or any of his friends naked, and no one is having anything shaved on my watch. All that stuff just isn’t me or the Bro. Our stripper days are well and truly over, we are now men of a certain age after all.

So in consultation with Bro we decided to keep it real low key. Bro has his favourite drinking spot and the grand total of our organisation for the big night was a text message to say “Meet us at The Coro at 4pm”. I was hearing lots of talk about food orders and hiring spaces, we skipped all of that and just went with booze.  Simple and hassle free. My Bro and I are absolute polar opposites is nearly every way but on this we both agreed.

Now the key to success on the day was always going to be to have all the cousins there. The boys in our family are the funniest bunch of guys you will ever meet. We are all so different but with strange similarities. I guess that’s because we are all from same chlorine-free gene pool. The running joke before the big day was that it was so ironic that at Bro’s Bucks Night every single cousin was single! The irony being that Bro was always the most unlikely to marry. The universe was playing a little joke on us that we all loved and laughed at. As Cousin T said “lets party like we’re Charlie Sheen”, if only I had the stamina.

To be honest, I can’t really remember much of the detail from the night. It went by so quickly before I had the good sense to pop Bro and me in a cab when he started to fall asleep at the table – my Bro’s signature move. What I do remember is that I spent nearly the whole night laughing. I laughed my ass off. There were so many stories told and jokes told and one-liners used that they all just blend in together. It was just a brilliant night. Always is when we all get together. Bro loved it!

I gotta talk about Uncle C cause he is an absolute fucking legend! He’s not much older than me but he is like the elder statesman of the boys in the family. Uncle C plays hard! No other way to put it. No one can smoke or drink more than Uncle C. And he was on FIRE at the Bucks. Every time he opened his mouth I laughed. Love ya Uncle C. Cousins G and R could keep a stadium entertained once they get on a role. And don’t be fooled by Cousin T’s babyface, aint nothing angelic about what comes out of his mouth.

So all up I loved my first ever Bucks Night. And I’m pretty sure Bro loved it as well. He’s a man of very few words my Bro so you can never be sure with him. Gotta thank Uncle C and the cousins cause they absolutely made the night. Funniest bastards ever. They made the pain of the two day hangover all worth it.

And now the countdown till the wedding begins.


Note: So unlike me but I completely forgot to take photos. So dumb. I can’t believe I forgot, sorry.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Sorry!

While still recovering from Bro's Bucks Night, I accidentally started drinking again with visiting Melbourne royalty Miss Melbourne and Lady Marmalade, and local favourites Irish Mark and Hamish Von Trapp..

As a result I have not post today. In fact I have no brain cells either. I have fears for my liver, and also my kidneys.

Will make it up to you tomorrow.

Sorry.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Griffith High School; its very odd traditions (+Yr 12 Ball photo)

“I, fresh with glory, ever newly one shall grow” – the English translation of our school motto. How the hell I remember this, or even knew it in the first place, is beyond me. No idea what it means either. We weren’t a school big on pride, closest we got to school spirit was singing the national anthem at assembly.


But having said that, at Griffith High we used to have a number of rather strange traditions. At the time they were the most normal thing in the world but now they just seem odd. And lets be honest, we are going back a few years here. I started at Griffith High in 85 when Cyndi Lauper as top of the charts and finished in 1990 when John Farnham was still cool.
Year 12 lawn
I loved school. Loved it! And I was quite the nerd and quasi-athlete. In fact I think I achieved more between the ages of 12 and 18 then I have since. All that constant re-enforcement did wonders for my already substantial ego. But just to put it in perspective, we worked out at our Year 12 graduation that approximately 1/3 of the girls we started Yr 7 with had had babies by the time we did the HSC. Two sets of twins as well, very proud. Speaking of Yr 12 Graduation…

At Griffith High back then the Year 12 Graduation Ball was an incredibly formal affair. Not sure where the tradition stemmed from but all the girls wore ankle length white gowns and all the boys in matching suits. So glamorous! In 1990 us boys chose a sparkling jade cummerbund and matching bow tie to go with our black tails. So hot! My partner for the presentation waltz was my dear dear friend Alana, and she looked spectacular, jaw-droppingly so! Her dress was very Princess Di and, I hope she won’t mind me saying this, she had the biggest hair I’ve ever seen. We still joke about it every time we see each other. I so clearly remember driving back in the next day from the after-party at someone’s farm and Alana’s hair was still touching the roof of my Datsun 180B.
Alana & I. She is so gonna kill me!







We were also very big on ‘giving away’ at GHS. At the Yr 10 Dance you had someone from Yr 9 give you away, and then again at the Yr 12 Final Assembly you had someone from Yr 11. Quite odd really, something about following in your footsteps, passing the baton, who the hell knows. But it was always cause for much discussion and angst. At Yr 10 Dance I had my first ever girlfriend from 4th class, Tanya, give me away. I think she had to pin a ribbon on me or something, and I’m sure Bon Jovi were playing. Yr 12 it was the legendary Bobbie M who got to push me out the door. She was incoming Vice-Captain so the honour was forced on her. 
Yr 12 Quad
I was on the Yr 10 Social Committee but for the life of me I can not remember what we were organising. I think our primary function was to feel cool about ourselves. The big annual fundraiser was Slave Day – completely politically incorrect now of course. The committee got dressed up in hessian bags and on a stage in the middle of the Quad we were auctioned off one by one. We were then a slave for the day for the top bidder. I remember I was caught in a bidding war between the Yr 9 girls and the Yr 7 boys, what does that say about my target market???

Nugan Shield was this sporting comp we had against our arch-rival school, Wade High. They were from the posh side of town, at Grffith High we were considerably ‘rougher’. There was a Nugan Shield for winter sports and summer, and all held in one day. The competition was fierce, especially in Yr 7 and 8 when it was actually about sport. Yr 9 and 10 it was about checking out the hotties from the other school. You know the grass is always greener on the other side.

Ahhhh… good times! So many good memories. 


Didn't have the big black fence when I was there! 

Saturday, February 19, 2011

My home town Griffith!

"You can take the boy out of Griffith, but you can't take the Griffith out of the boy." Or the other thing I always say, usually in a crowded bar or work event, is "I'm a bogan from Griffith and proud of it!" 


Yes I'm very proud of my home town Griffith, always have been. Loved growing up here, all my family are here, so are lots of my school friends, and SOOOOO many memories that even after 18 years I still get sentimental coming home. I’m back for the weekend for my brothers Bucks Night (read about that on Monday!), and to catch up with all the fam. After the past few weeks its perfect timing to come home and get completely boozed up with the cousins! 

I lived my whole life here until I ventured out into the big bad world when I was 20 to go to Uni. So it’s been a long, long time since I’ve called it home, but still whenever I’m asked where I’m from I say Griffith. It’s a strange place though, lots of contradictions. It’s a big farming town but bizarrely cosmopolitan. Its got fantastic restaurants but absolutely no decent menswear stores. There are lots of jewellers and hair salons but you can’t get a good coffee past noon on a Saturday.
Big wine country.
Now Griffith has a reputation – a long history of scandals. I really didn’t understand it until I moved away and it seemed everyone knew about it. Now thanks to Underbelly it’s taken on a whole new life. I would bet your image of Griffith is completely different to the reality. It’s a good place, normal in ‘almost’ every way. Just a little bit more gold jewellery than your average country town.

So I get home at least twice a year, sometimes more, depending on how many family events we have. I always love coming home. And your hometown is always gonna trigger memories of events and times that are special. I have heaps, especially with my family. But today I'm going with non-family stuff cause I'm sentimental enough as it is, that would push me over the edge.

Between the ages of 10 and 19, if I wasn’t at school than I was at either the indoor or outdoor pool (although now the outdoor is now indoor and the indoor is apartments). I swam competitively for so many years, I permanently stunk of chlorine with brittle, bleached hair. I loved swimming so much but my love for the sport always far outweighed my talent. I am a wide-set midget after-all. But I loved everyone who was ever involved with the Griffith  Swimming Club, and I still wear the t'shirts and use the towels. As rampant teenagers we used to have an absolute ball. I loved those pools and everyone I swum with.
Griffith postcard
I used to be a bank teller. For two years, for the State Bank of NSW. And I thought it was the coolest job ever! It was my first job out of school while I tried to work out what the hell I wanted to do with my life. I worked with this amazing group of women, all hot and all Italian. I went to all of their 21sts and most of their weddings. I think I was a pretty shocking bank teller, spent most of my day flirting with customers or laughing with the girls. I remember at my farewell I sobbed like a baby. Carmela gave me a diamond earring, she was a very special friend and still is!

I had my first ever bourbon and coke at The Area Hotel. Bought for me by a swimming friend of mine to celebrate our HSC results. Yes, and many will find this impossible to believe, I had never tasted alcohol until I was 18 and a half cause I was such a dedicated (and delusional) athlete. The Area Hotel used to go OFF!!! Especially on Xmas Eve and Easter. Easter used to be phenomenal, especially with everyone home from Uni. Every time you’d go there it was a reunion in some way. Still to this day, when I taste a bourbon and coke it takes me straight back to the Area in January ‘91. Back when I had a six-pack.
The Area Hotel
So that is more than enough sentimentality for one day. If you ever get the chance to visit Griffith, I recommend you do. Give me a call for all the local hot tips. It’s a town the locals know best. But if you think the streets are going to be overrun with drugs and mafia-types you will be sadly mistaken. Its a very cool place.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Two Friday Random-Delights!

First, representing all that is GOOD GOOD GOOD in the world!

My Twitter friend @neilsgardiner sent me this, PLEASE HAVE A LISTEN. I love it, made my year!  He is my new favourite person in the world.

Ahhhh... the world is a bright, shiney place.

And now representing all that is BAD BAD BAD in the world. Sourced this gem from @standupmaths on Twitter , a prime example of all that is wrong in the world. Not only is the sentiment all fucked up, but to get it as a tattoo takes it to a whole new level.



Have a great weekend!!!

St. Murphy

Three quick stories on Facebook catch-ups!


Ok, I want to share with you three quick stories how in the past few weeks Facebook and/or Twitter has reconnected me with great friends from my past. We all joke about social media and the role it now suddenly plays in our lives – time waster, stalking, pick-ups and flirting, voyeuristic – its all of those things. But for me it has also been an incredible tool to reconnect with important people who I’d lost contact with.

I want to start with someone quite a few of you will know, Mrs Woog. Mrs Woog and I were drinking buddies at Uni and at one now infamous Bar Night we married in a scandalous ceremony conducted by SawHole. Mrs Woog took on a variation of my surname that can’t be repeated here for reasons of decency. The year was 1994 and we were hideously glamorous and practically Prom King and Queen. We soon shipped out for our very different career paths only to re-discover each other with a vengeance again last year.

It started on Facebook, moved onto Twitter and became a deep love affair through blogging. Mrs Woog is my mentor, my teacher, my bosom to nuzzle. I was so inspired by her and what she was doing at Woogsworld that I started these pages. But still we had yet to meet up after our 16 year separation until two weeks ago. As I strolled up her driveway for our reunion, the conversation picked up where it left off in 1994. She’s hilarious, I’m offensive, we’re both still gorgeous. One day we will be Prom King and Queen again. Mrs Woog, I loves you to death.

In another incredibly bizarre coincidence, last week I discovered through Facebook that one of my best friends from school and I were going to be in the exact same, quite specific place at the same time. The Scientist and I literally had not seen each other in 20 years. And trust me, a lot happens and changes in the 20 years between 18 and 38. If I hadn’t known via Facebook that he was there we would never had had the chance to meet and catch-up. I met his lovely wife and we’ve made plans to catch up again soon. It was brilliant to see them, and all thanks to Facebook.

Then this week Miss Cal and I dined with an old and dear friend from Uni, Mrs White. Mrs White and I disagree on the last time we saw each other. She vaguely recollects an incident at an Eastern Suburbs pizza place in the late 90’s, I do not remember at all. I have to cast my mind back to 1995 for a non-alcohol-blurred memory. Mrs White is still as glamorous, as witty and as entertaining as I remembered. No wonder she was a hot-ticket item at CSU. And after only a few hours at dinner I can determine that her three boys are the luckiest in the world. Just brilliant to catch up, and we will again very soon.
Of course I will continue to make jokes about my obsession with social media, and the dramatic impact it has had on my life both personally and professionally. But I also have a helluva lot to thank it for. Life gets crazy busy sometimes and its only natural that you can’t stay in contact with every one you meet, like, love and admire. But social media can keep you in the same loop so that when the opportunity does arise you can pick these great friendships up right where they left off. This has to be the coolest thing ever about social media.

Just you wait for my Big Gay Twitter Party when I get everyone together in one room – now that will be a social media phenomen!


Thursday, February 17, 2011

Jackson & Sam's Toilet

We definitely need to lighten the mood here at St. Murphy. Enough with that heavy shit. Even I’m getting bored with it so I can’t imagine how exhausting it must be for you.

Lets move on…

To something completely random and obscure.

So I think that my local park, or as we like to call it Jackson & Sam’s Toilet, is the coolest place in the whole neighbourhood. When we first bought our house here we thought the park was just weird and that our little community must be very strange. How wrong we were.

What makes this park special is that every hour of every day it is chockers full of kids toys! Always. And like lots of them. They are all left there for the local kids to play with and enjoy. How random is that! There seems to be an endless supply, some of them have been there for ages, others can be quite new.

Whenever we have to explain to visitors the situation with the toys no one believes us – it is Redfern after all. But this little neighbourhood is full of young families and the level of trust and security is amazingly high considering we are inner-city. Some days there are more kids in that park than there were in my own kinda class. Such an unbelievable community spirit.

So why this is top of mind for me today is that when I got home yesterday afternoon some lovely neighbour had taken the time to line them up all the toys along the garden path. How cool is that. Now that is taking some serious pride in the community park. I just had to take some photos.


My obsession with this park has been going on since we first moved in here 18 months ago. We walk Jackson and Sam in there everyday. Over summer there is not a weekend that goes by without a kids party in there. Every Friday evening all the local families get together and have vino’s and beers. How cool is that! One neighbour has set up a compost bin and another has left their BBQ in there permanently.

I have been so fascinated by this park I even did a Uni assignment on it last semester. It was a 2000 word visual research project that for me turned into a 5000 word extravaganza on the gentrification and community spirit of Redfern. I just have to get this in, yes, I got a HD for it.

But I do truly believe this park is incredibly special as it has become the backyard for all of the local families in the area. They socialise, they play, they enjoy it just the way families would a backyard out in suburbia. And I just think that is the coolest thing. 


Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Sorry, I've been a very bad communicator!

I am a communications professional, have been for about 15 years. I’m even studying it. I’m also a great lover of talking, I never stop. It’s a big part of my job as well. Talking and communicating. Communicating and talking. I tell stories all the time, I love a good story. And a laugh. And a gossip. And I love social media. All that communicating is heaven.


Which makes my post topic today rather ironic!

For an 'alleged' professional communicator I’ve really dropped the ball this past week, I'm completely aware of that, and I feel I need to make apology. I think you may know this past weekend Boyfriend and I told everyone we were parting ways. So many good and old friends reached out to make sure we were ok. I'm so sorry you haven’t heard back from me yet. I’ve been really bad at calling, texting, emailing everyone and I’ve been trying to figure out why so I can offer some explanation. It’s so beautiful to know that people care and I’ve been so rude not to acknowledge that.

I guess the reason is that as amicable and as easy-as-far-as-breakups-go it has been for us, it’s still really hard to explain and chat about. And most people have been really shocked by the news, like really shocked. So it’s really a tough conversation to have especially while we are still getting used to it ourselves. And I don’t have anything to whinge or complain about, or any dramatic story to tell. So please don’t think I’m rude, and in the not too distant future I will get back to you to thank you for being so caring and understanding. I just don’t have a whole lot to say about it just yet while we get the practicalities sorted.
I will fire these up I promise.
What is important to know is that exBoyfriend and I are both doing really well. It’s all good. We are actually very self-congratulatory on how mature we are. At times it has even been quite amusing. Searching for rentals was very depressing but it all worked out in the end. We’re still doing dinner-and-drinks with our friends, making plans over the coming weeks, all too easy really. Most importantly our boys are loved and cared for, the gay-children are as happy as ever.

So sincere apologies I haven’t started to get back to everyone yet. I promise I will. It has been a bit of a headspin this last week. Thanks so much for caring, it means the world. My communication skills will return to normal very soon and I’ll make it up to you. Be assured all is good in the world and that we are still at the top of the class for breaking-up couples.

Lots of love,

St. Murphy

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Kick up the Arse revisited!

I am discovering this blogging thing can serve many purposes. Cathartic, amusement, distraction, enjoyment…

Then today I discovered that it also keeps me in check. Last Wednesday I gave myself a huge kick up the arse, cause I needed it big time. Then completely by coincidence it was that night that Boyfriend and I sat down to talk where he became exBoyfriend. My best laid plans for self-improvement momentarily went to shit.

So today, exactly one week later, I am revisiting that post and kicking myself up the arse again. So good to have a record of what I was thinking and feeling at that exact time. Thanks Blog, I owe you one.

So no ciggies today, and I’m about to clear messagebank. Will go to the gym in the morning, diet is back in place and liver-cleansing begins.

I feel better already.

Lady Gaga, will you be my Valentine?

Ok, after my anger at politicians, private schools and certain Christian groups yesterday, it is only fair today that I celebrate all that is diverse, weird and wonderful!

LADY GAGA

I heard her new song Born This Way for the first time on the weekend while scooting around Sydney feeling very sorry for myself. It literally gave me goose bumps. Not because it is necessarily the best pop song ever, although it is very good, but because of its sentiment. I suddenly felt that Gaga and I had a special bond. Her lyrics in Born This Way are something that I have been banging on about for so many years. I absolutely loved it.

And what perfect timing. Just as Sydney braces itself for the month long Mardi Gras celebration, out comes Gaga with the biggest and best Gay anthem since Ms Minogue’s On A Night Like This. Born This Way will possibly go down in history as the gayest song ever. Lets pray that the superstar power of Gaga manages to change the minds and attitudes of many in this world with her lyrics and her beliefs.
Egg arrival is heaven!
So it really doesn’t matter if you love her or hate her, you just gotta respect the effort she is making with this song to change the world. She has my absolute full support and I have a whole new respect. My love for her since Pokerface has grown into pure adoration and hero-worship with the release of Born This Way!

Don't be a drag, just be a queen

Whether you're broke or evergreen

You're black, white, beige, chola descent

You're lebanese, you're orient

Whether life's disabilities

Left you outcast, bullied, or teased

Rejoice and love yourself today

'cause baby you were born this way



No matter gay, straight, or bi,

Lesbian, transgendered life

I'm on the right track baby

I was born to survive

No matter black, white or beige

Chola or orient made

I'm on the right track baby

I was born to be brave

Monday, February 14, 2011

Thank You, Thank You, Thank You to the Twitterverse & Blogosphere!

A small miracle has taken place!


And I have the Twitterverse and Blogosphere to thank.


After putting out the call on Sunday for all of you to pray to the Rental Gods for me, at 10.30am this morning the Gods came through!


I've landed myself a very cool inner-city bachelor pad that, most importantly, allows pets. PHEW!!! Thats a big pressure off.


Now my little Sam and I have a new home and we are very excited and happy. Well, we are as excited and happy as you can be at this strange and awful time.
Sam thanks you to and wants to shake your paw.
So huge and sincere thank you for your support cause I am sure your prayers to the Rental Gods got me across the line. I didn't even have to sleep with the agent.


Thank you. Moving in late March.
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