My Gaydar is Shit!

For a professional homosexual I have shocking gaydar!

Gaydar is the alleged sixth sense of the hummersexuals to quickly, and without embarrassment, determine if they have a chance of bedding their fellow man. It is a skill that the hummersexuals are trained in from their very early days on Oxford St. Learning to use your gaydar is akin to straight people learning how to pub-pash on the dancefloor.

But what exactly is gaydar? Well, it’s very difficult to describe. It’s a weird mix of body language and lightening quick judgements. It can involve a visual assessment of wardrobe, grooming and styling. Voice also plays a key role, and you can also garner a lot of information from touch. All the senses really! Most importantly it is the feeling that you get when you sense someone is imagining you naked.

Badly tuned gaydar, they had to go camping for weeks before working it out!

Good gaydar is key to a hummersexuals survival. It is a vital weapon in our arsenal to ensure that mating takes place. And as you will be very aware, the hummersexual is dead keen to mate as much as possible. Good gaydar assists greatly in satisfying the purely physical needs of the hummersexual. But it is also crucial in matters of the heart. There is nothing worse, and I speak very authoratively on the subject, than the hummersexual falling in love with the dreaded straight man. Can only end in tears, heartbreak and morbidly embarrassing drunken moments.

Another reason a finely-tuned gaydar is required is that despite the modern stereotype, the hummersexual now comes in every shape, form and dress-code. Gone are the days when a tight pant, a sleeveless T and a distinct lisp were a clear and definitive indicator you had a chance of mating. Now it’s as confusing as hell as everyone from your accountant to the truckie you just side-swiped can be a hummer. There are even straights who like Gaga. Geography used to also be a dead give-away – a single man living in 2010 was a certain hummer, now they are spread out all over the entire city like rabbits.

Gone are the days of this stereotype

My gaydar is completely out of whack. I think the reason is that I relaxed, dropped my guard, and turned it off for a few years. My skills turned rusty. I used to be proud that I could spot a hummer at 100 paces, now I’m lucky to know for sure unless they lick my face (which happens oh so rarely!). When you are in a relationship you don’t need to know which are the hummers cause you ain’t looking for a shag 24/7 like the single hummer. Now I’m back on the market I find I’m constantly confused.

So now that I have my single-gay-man training wheels back on I need to play it real safe. If I stick to the hummer-hotspots I can’t go so wrong. Stonewall (smells like vomit), Arq (too fat to get up on the podium), Nevermind (15years too old to get past security) or my favourite despite my recent fall, The Imperial (where normal, more mature gays go to dance to Kylie). At these place I can surely cope with my under-performing gayer.

My beloved Imperial Hotel

For the moment I am not brave enough to test my gaydar outside of these comfort zones. Having said that, I’ve never been one of those hummers that picks up on public transport or on Level 2 of David Jones in the city. I always wished I was that sort of gay but even at the peak of my hummer powers this was not something that St. Murphy could pull off (no pun intended). Now that the kryptonite of middle-age has diminished my ablities somewhat I need to rely on the dimmed lights of a crowded bar and my witty, intellectual repertoire to lure any possible prey.

That is until I re-establish and fine-tune my gaydar again then watch out shopping centres and sporting events – this hummer will be back in the game!

Reunions are a funny thing.

I’ve never understood why some people dread and fear the ‘reunion’. Be it a school reunion, a family reunion or as was the case for me on the weekend, the State Bank Griffith reunion; why would you not want to be a part of it?

On my last day at the State Bank, Jan '93

See I love a reunion. I have sentimentality running through my veins, along with a fare dose of nostalgia. I love this sort of shit. Any chance to remember the past or take a trip down memory lane and I am all over it like a rash (as you may have noticed from this blog!). If I wasn’t so disorganised and have such a short attention span I’d be organising all sorts of reunions for every other week.

State Bank circa '92

Reunions are this confusing mix of reliving stories from the past while trying to describe the present. You can literally jump from one time-zone to another in the space of a question. Reunions are like a time machine that zips back and forth. Stories from 1992 are mixed in with stories from 2011 and everything in between. “Do you remember…” “What do you do now…” “Whatever happened to…” “Didn’t you shag…” “You haven’t changed at all, have you had work done…”

When I first heard of the State Bank Griffith reunion I literally jumped with glee. I have such fond memories of near 20 years ago when I was Griffith’s worst, and possibly rudest, bank teller. I was instantly desperate, aching to catch up with all my old work buddies, or as I call them my Italian beauties. Jumped online and booked my little Rex flights home so I could be a part of it. Mum had found my old bank ties and name badge and I was all set to go.

Was frocking up for the big night when I suddenly got all nervous! This is very un-me. It had been 18 long years since I left the bank and a lot had changed for me in that time. Girls became boys, banking became publicity, Griffith had become Sydney. But that in a nutshell is the really cool thing about reunions - a lot has changed for EVERYONE! It’s the catching up that is important, the reconnecting and the reliving of a shared experience. Saturday night was truly joyous…

And there was cake!

The night went by unbelievably quickly and I kinda feel like I didn’t catch-up with anyone nearly enough. Crammed in a whole series of power-conversations where all involved had to summarise their life in under 2 mins. So much fun. And fuck it was funny! And the story-telling was brilliant. Now I was only with the bank for two short years in the early 90’s and the guests covered the 70’s through to 2001. I was a mere snapshot in a whole gallery of memories. For me, it was about two things… First, my Italian beauties!

Yes, I have a ponytail. '92

Now my ladies and I were all tellers at about the same time. Imagine walking into a bank and being greeted by us! Needless to say I never had to serve many men, they made a beeline for my beauties. Now in 2011 they are all happily married and slowly re-populating Griffith. It’s only a few years off before I can take their eldest children to their first nightclub. 18 years felt like a matter of months once I was back with my Italian beauties.

2011

Secondly, the night was all about White Oprah and Wyalong. Now there was a subtle shift here. 18 years ago they were my bosses and seemed older and much more mature. Now they are my friends, of the same generation, equals in every way. I love them and they made me laugh hysterically. HYS-terically! I kinda think that if we were strangers but in the same room anytime, anywhere we would naturally be drawn to each other. Possibly because we would be the loudest. When next we meet, we will be ‘ferretting’ (although still not sure what that means???), Wyalong is the events co-ordinator.

So to my fine colleagues who did such a fabulous job of organising, I sincerely thank you. I had an absolute ball. So good to take this stroll down memory lane, but even better to reconnect with old friends. Just goes to show that we all haven’t changed that much really. Circumstances may have, but not the reasons why we were friends in the first place.

I love reunions!

Carmella is and will always be one of the most special people I have ever met!

A Political Revolution!

I’ve got the shits with politicians. And I mean ALL politicians. I’ve been very vocal about being a Labor voter, but for the purposes of this rant think of me as apolitical.

But before we get down to the reasons why, what are we currently dealing with?

I just feel the whole political system is not making much sense at the moment. My perception is that Julia says one thing and then Tony will instinctually argue the opposite until he is blue in the face. The precarious Labor government then starts to waver, polls come out, everyone gets more nervous or wound-up…. The whole time I don’t feel that anything is actually working or moving forward in any purposeful way.

Firstly, whatever Tony Abbott says I profoundly believe the opposite. It is a primal reaction. The man revolts me both personally and professionally. The fact that he gets so much air-time JUST because he is the leader of the opposition scares the hell out of me. I’ve never wanted to put someone over my knee and give them a good spanking like I do with Abbott. And can I be very clear, there is NO sexual undertone there, just that I think he’s a child.

REPULSIVE!!!!

Julia, who I have previously loved and adored, seems to have lost her way somehow. I find myself saying ‘poor Julia’ far too often. I sense she is really struggling to rally her troops. And is it just me or is her voice becoming slightly weird now. I think the stress levels are slowly increasing the tightness of her vocal chords. The rest of the Labor party leave me ‘underwhelmed’ to say the least.

The only political subject I am truly passionate about is legalising gay marriage so of course I am completely in love with Sarah Hanson-Young from the Greens. She speaks at the Gay Marriage rallies for god’s sake, this is why she is my favourite.

So why, when all these pollies are elected as our representatives to make the important decisions, am I so disillusioned with them all. It’s simple. Cause they are not human in the way you and I are. They have not lived the same lives that we have. They do not have the life experience that I need from a politician to adequately represent me and my views.

The reality in Australian politics is that the media weed out anyone who has a remotely interesting story, plaster it all over their pages and the web, and cripples their political career. On the flipside, no political party is going to endorse a candidate with a personal history of say, someone like me. It would be fraught with danger due to the level of scrutiny of their personal life.

Using my story as the example (and please do not see this as a desire to enter politics). I’ve played hard, worked hard and made a shitload of mistakes along the way. I’ve been too drunk too many times, I’ve been to the biggest of the dance parties, I’ve mingled with the seedier side of life. I’ve done a lot of stupid things that have not only embarrassed me but also my friends and family. But I do not think I am a bad person or that this should disqualify me from public service.

I’d love to be able to vote for a politician who has experienced some of the same things that I have. Someone that has been so riddled with credit card debt they couldn’t afford a decent vodka. That they have slept with the wrong person at the wrong time in the wrong place – and on more than one occasion. I want to vote for someone who’s done a shit load of weird stuff just because they could. I do not want a clean-living, sterile and sheltered politician representing my views in Parliament.

Just like so many other people I know, love and respect… we have never been involved in violence, we have never caused injury or harm to others, we do not discriminate or harass, we have never committed any form of abuse, we have never been involved with anyone who wasn’t our equal. But our life experiences would completely rule us out of ever entering the political domain.

I just don’t see how that without making some big mistakes in life and pushing some of your boundaries that you can really get a handle on what is important or just in life. 

There are so many smart, sensitive, socially aware, driven, motivated people in our society who would be brilliant ambassadors for their electorate who could never conceivably run for a seat in parliament. As soon as their opposing party or the media did any digging they would be publicly crucified. Simply because they have lived their life!

And I passionately believe that our political system lacks character because of this. It also means that I do not think I will ever be comfortable with the decisions of my government while I know that the people making the decisions can in no possible way understand the views of big chunks of the electorate. Too much cleansing and sterilisation of our politicians has taken place.

As a result we are lumbered with the boring, narrow-minded politicians and a total disconnect with the electorate.

"How would you like that?" My days as a Bank Teller

“Good morning State Bank Griffith, St. Murphy speaking…”

I used to be a Bank Teller! Oh the irony! Many who know me now will be in fits of laughter cause I am possibly the most un-Bank Tellerish person ever now.

For one, Bank Tellers are polite and focused on customer service. Me, I’m a rude bitch who’s lucky to remember a simple please or thank you. Bank Tellers are efficient, organised and good with numbers. Well I’m the polar opposite.

“How would you like that?”

But just over 20 years ago I was a very different man. I had just finished Yr 12, I was completely obsessed with swimming and triathlons and I had only just tasted alcohol for the first time. I was a non-smoker AND I was sleeping with women (well, a few anyway). I was on the cusp of manhood and had absolutely no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I had deferred a Business degree while I worked out if this was for me. And kept swimming, cycling, running.

“Would you like me to order you another cheque book?”

I’d always loved the idea of having a job where I got to wear a tie each day, so when the State Bank of NSW Griffith Branch junior-junior-junior job came up I knew it was for me (plus the manager was a friend of the family hehehehe). I remember being so excited on my first day when they gave me two free ties, each in their own box, that I was to wear with my new white dress shirts and navy slacks. They even gave me a belt with a beautiful silver buckle. The State Bank seemed so POSH to this 18 year old.

“Bags not counting the coin.”

Now I can’t really remember much about the job, or what it really involved. I remember I sat in front of a big machine for ages when I first started and fed in cheques, withdrawals and deposit slips. I also remember that there were lots of checklists and reports. I was beside myself with excitement when I finished Teller training and finally got to stand up at the counter. Jeez I remember it being so much fun. But as is always the way during important times in your life, it’s not about what you are doing but the people you are doing it with.

“Boss, I seem to be out $900?”

My fellow Tellers where the hottest Italian beauties in town! Leader of the pack was Carmel, gorgeous, and my lovelies Venera, Lynette, Joanna and Lisa, plus ‘part-timers’ Linda and Sharon (although Sharon is not Italian). Went to all their weddings and 21^st’s during this time. Had fantastic, fun bosses Ninetta, Loretta and Jacqui. Had a ball! Being a Bank Teller was brilliant fun. My two favourite customers were Dimity Parr who I thought was unbelievably glamorous cause she’d just won Miss Showgirl at the Royal Easter Show and Jane McCarthy cause she flirted outrageously and gave me a leopard skin g-string.

“I hate Fridays. I hate stying open an extra hour till 5pm.”

Ahhhh, good times! One year turned into two but I finally had worked out I wanted to do something in media and had been accepted into Uni. I sobbed like a baby on my last day, an absolute baby. I still have my farewell gift from the staff which was a gold fish to hang on the gold chain I got for my 18th, and the beautiful Carmella bought me a diamond ear-ring. Yep, still have them. (I had just got my ear pierced on my first ever trip to Sydney on my own to accept the State Bank Country Sportsperson of the Year Award!!!) Everyone wears gold in Griffith.

“Carmel, I can’t find my keys to the safe!”

So why am I taking this trip down memory lane today? Well, I’ve just arrived home in Griffith for the State Bank Reunion! So excited! We’ve all kinda sorta kept in contact over the years but have not all been together since 1993. Venera has organised, champion effort, and now it looks like there’s gonna be about 50 people. Mum still had in storage my ties and name badge which I will be wearing very proudly on Saturday night – one tie around my neck, one as a belt and I’m thinking one as a head band. What a night it’s going to be!

I only wish that being a Bank Teller had of taught me to be better with money. Or how to steal it.

“I hate pension day”

10,000 Tweets! But what has it got me?

I’ll tell you EXACTLY what it has got me!

SimieBoy and St. Murphy

Some of the most fantastic new friends that a dirty middle-aged poof could ask for.

And a Tweet from the Premier! I kid you not. Last night I got a very eloquent but full of sexual innuendo Tweet from Barry O’Farrell after my 10,000^th… “congrats!” he said to me, simply “congrats!”. He recognises my 10’000^th tweet but not the equality of my relationships. But now’s not the day to bang on about that. Today I’m just happy for the Tweet.

So what was my 10,000^th tweet I hear you beg, after much thought and many drafts it was this…

“10000th: Have met the coolest, funniest, most gorgeous people on Twitter, & now they're my dear friends! Will be forever grateful to Twitter”

If you had said to me 12 months ago that I would be meeting people over the internet I would have laughed in your face. I’m a nanna at heart, can be strangely conservative and I’ve been too lazy to make new friends the last few years. And besides, I loved my friends to death and didn’t feel I needed anymore.

Damn I was wrong being lazy. And narrow-minded! Another one of my judgemental characteristics I am ridding myself of.

Yesterday was a very opportune time to hit the milestone of 10,000 tweets as it comes after a weekend where I spent all my time socializing with people I’d met on Twitter. And it was a weekend chockers full of booze and crazy laughs, all with my Tweeps.

ShaunHeron, Arrjaydub, McCraigyDimples, St. Murphy, MatthewJFraser, Lucky Paulie, Mikey & Josh10Murphy

There’s a reason we all look like we are possessed by the Devil…

Lets talk about Friday night. Lucky Paulie (long-time Inner Circle) and I decided to organise a Power Gay gathering on Twitter – a mix of old friends, people we’d recently met and people we wanted to meet. All up, there was a lot of meeting for the first time going on. We quickly changed our moniker from the Power Gays to the Gay-stapo – I think because we were so militant in our homosexuality. The Gay-stapo took over the Inner West.

We even hashtagged it in true Twitter style, #Impie0107. Within 5 mins we were telling dirty stories (or maybe that was just ShaunHeron and I?) and within an hour we were being debaucherous (or maybe that was just ShaunHeron and I?). Arrjaydub, McCraigyDimples and Uueaver are three retiring wall-flowers who shyly join a party… and I’m Pinocchio!

Lucky Paulie, McCraigyDimples and Arrjaydub

MatthewJFraser, or as I like to call him The HYS-terical Matt Fraser, is the best thing to come out of Newcastle since coal. Josh10Murphy is not one to let a brain tumour stand in the way of a good time, and that is with not an ounce of exaggeration. Mikey Morrow was allowed to play with us even though he’s not on Twitter, we talked slower for him. We had an absolute ball! Next outing is #Impie1507 or #Impie1607, still to decide. All are more than welcome to join us.

Lucky Paulie and Arrjaydub

Then I squeezed three costume changes into an over-nighter for a few days in Melbs. It was a work trip but managed to schedule some Twitter-vodka’s cause I’m nothing if not professional. My first ever Twitter-date was with Melbourne’s hottest gay-royalty couple from the ‘burbs, SimieBoy and Milney01. Milney01 ditched me for his offspring – go figure! - while SimieBoy ‘forced’ me to go to The Greyhound for some disco-dancing. I wore black cause I was in Melbourne.

The Greyhound

It was with great pleasure, and some pain, that I met 3GreggyD for the first time. Classic example of when you find someone with the same warped sense of humour on Twitter it translates beautifully to real-life. I loved him like you do the straw in your first vodka, lime and soda. We all met for brunch the next day and the divine Milney01 joined us, but the absolute highlight was the Parisian French toast served with a delicious side of LoveMissLee. LoveMissLee is adored in Melbs like Barbra, Bette or Kylie. I fell under her spell too.

Goddamn I love Twitter and the people it has brought into my life!

And there is no way I can write a commemorative 10,000^th Tweet post without mention of the four legs of my Twitter table… The sublime Woogsworld, the beautiful StylingYou (Twitter-Date No. 2), the fit-inducing JoThornely and the Junior St. Murphy, En_Gy (Twitter-Date No. 3). Life without the allegedly-witty banter of you guys would be like life without television – POINTLESS!!! I also have a big old Twitter-crush on LaurenMC and JoshCilento, a big old crush (and just a little gay one on CuriousSpecimen).

Woogsworld & JoThornely

En_Gy

StylingYou & moi

JoshCilento & LaurenMC

St. Murphy & CuriousSpecimen

Ahhhh.... Twitter is a beautiful place.

And you know what, now that I’ve hit 10,000 I am aching, yearning to hit 100,000.

Game on Twitter!

***If you wanted to follow me I'm at StMurphy!

It Gets Better: a very special guest post

Feeling honoured and proud at St. Murphy today as we have a very special guest post. It’s a very important time of year for my friend Arrjaydub and he is sharing his story with us today. 

It will both break your heart and completely inspire you.

His message is a beautiful one. Over to you Arrjaydub!

Everyone who knows of me knows I’m a particularly chirpy little homo. I’ll laugh and play and throw glitter with the best of them, but every year around this time I feel a little maudlin. Let me tell you why that is.

I grew up in a family of fundamental Christians, Jehovah’s Witnesses, to be precise. We were a big, close family of 7, and our lives revolved around our devotion to preaching the word of our God, Jehovah. To say I had a difficult childhood would be unfair, as I don’t consider that to be the case. I was part of a loving family, and my parents were caring and attentive. We had a strong bond, and I would have considered each of my siblings to be the closest of friends.

Unfortunately for me, I no longer share my family’s belief in their God. We could sit here and argue about why that may be, though, as I’m sure you’ve guessed it, at the crux of the matter is my love for those of the same sex. What this means is that I have been excommunicated from their faith, and removed from their lives entirely. Come July 7, it will be 4 years to the day that I removed myself from the organization known as Jehovah’s Witnesses.

Arrjaydub's first anniversary of leaving the church

So now we come to the real reason for this blog post. I wanted to share with you all how I feel about being the man I am today without my family’s support. You know how I feel? Truly happy.

Yes, it is true, I have not spoken to any of my family (bar the VERY occasional text from my father) for four years, and when I left the religion, I lost also the very core of my group of friends. While new converts are freely invited to join Jehovah’s Witnesses, once you are a baptised member of their religion, you cannot remove yourself without facing excommunication from the group as a whole. My family are forbidden to make contact, and   their devotion to their faith, while misguided, remains whole.

Family wedding the last time Arrjaydub saw his family in 2007

At 27, that was a hard task. I started from scratch with the help of my beloved Mother Hen, a workmate of only 2 years acquaintance, who warmly accepted me into her family. I celebrated my very first Christmas with them in December 2007. Since then, they have been a wonderful support base, and Mother Hen has always been there when I’ve needed that motherly advice. Add to that the myriad of friends I’ve made in Sydney, a city I consider to be incredibly welcoming and warm. This new hometown has provided me with my new family, a family who accepts that I don’t intend to live my life restricted by doctrine I have no faith in.

Mother Hen and Arrjaydub

So, I guess what I’m truly saying is, It Gets Better. Now i’m not being glib here, it really, truly does. I was fortunate in that I found my way in a world that is so quick to judge anyone based on their race, sex or sexuality. Not everyone finds that peace, or is able to reach a point of happiness so quickly, or at all. Thousands of Australian youths suffer from depression that leads to suicide purely because they are lost in a world they believe will quickly condemn them. Statistics released in late 2009 by Suicide Prevention Australia show that the rate of suicide attempts by GLBT people is 3.5 to 14 times higher than for their heterosexual peers. This is a shocking statistic, and one that chills me to the bone, because that so easily could have been me or any number of my friends.

If you are a young, troubled GLBT teen, I want to tell you something from the bottom of my heart:

Seek out help. No one has the right to tell you that you are unworthy of love and attention. You are as deserving of love and support as your heterosexual peers. Should it be that even your family are willing to turn their back on you, do not despair that this means you will forever be without love. We are surrounded by like minded, loving souls who are more than happy to share their experiences with you and provide you with the love and support that you so desperately need.

There are many organisations specifically designed for this, and I link to just a few below.

http://www.comingout.com.au/

http://www.glccs.org.au/

http://www.pflagbrisbane.org.au/#

Don’t let anyone ever tell you that you are less important, less worthy than another family member, another person, simply because you do not share their personal ‘moral’ stance. Hopefully then you, like me, can find yourself finally happy with who you are and where you are going.

Arrjaydub is on Twitter over here.

A judgemental bitch.

I am trying not be a judgemental bitch in 2011.

Or as self-absorbed.

Or as self-indulgent.

Truth be known, I’m doing much better on the first one then the other two (as this blog clearly demonstrates).

I had two posts to write today but I realised they were actually quite similar so I’ve decided to combine them and give them a theme… don’t be a judgemental bitch St. Murphy!

Tale No. 1…

So through my lovely employer we work with some fantastic charities that do the most phenomenal work with the disadvantaged and those less fortunate than judgemental bitches like me. Got the chance to spend some time with some high school students yesterday who had all been dealt some rough blows in life. I don’t know the details and I don’t need to. The reason why we went to spend time with them was just so we could tell stories about how we came to do what we do and, hopefully, provide some motivation and knowledge.

Ok, so my school was hardly the place of angels. And lessons learnt in your teens can haunt you forever. I have to admit, and you can judge me, when I first met these kids I had flashbacks to awful incidents at school, and was suddenly nervous. But for fucks sake I’m an adult now! Sat down with these kids and the floodgates opened and the conversation rolled. Some couldn’t have cared less, as you would expect, others were completely intrigued and were loaded with smart, insightful questions. 

So clichéd but I’m not sure who got the most out of it, us or the students. I’m pretty sure it was us. Surely at my age I should know to not judge a book by its cover. It was an absolute pleasure today spending time with these students. And the circumstances they are overcoming to make a better life for themselves would cripple most, including me!

Tale No. 2…

Probably going to talk in wide-sweeping generalized statements here that have the potential to offend. That is certainly not my intention, rather to show my own ignorance.

I have always been quick to judge couples that are an older man with a younger Asian man or woman. I’ve felt that there are elements of power and subservience there that make me really uncomfortable. Wide-sweeping judgement is the worst and I am as guilty as anyone. A couple of things happened the last few weeks that makes me think these are much more complex relationships than my shallowness allowed me to understand.

I kinda get that after years of loneliness that you would seek out company and intimacy. Being the self-indulgent, self-obsessed person I am I’d never really come to consider this could be a motivation. Also having spent time in a poverty-riddled city, I can comprehend how you would consider all options to escape that life. Who doesn’t want greater comfort and a better standard of living? God knows I still want for more when I have pretty much everything. If two people can come together and meet the required needs of each other than who the hell am I to judge?

At breakfast one day while on holidays, there was a gay couple beside me who had an obvious age and cultural difference. Their banter and plan-making clearly showed they were in a relationship of complete equality, just as any of mine have been.  Felt like a bit of an idiot that I could have thought they were anything else. Now I’m not completely stupid to suggest that all such relationships are equal like these guys, but I am saying that I won’t be so quick to judge them like I have the rest of my adult years. What ever the motivation for your relationship, as long as it’s a level playing field, I wish you every happiness.

*********

And after the last few days I would completely understand if you started thinking I’m reading too many self-help books. Trust me, I’m reading none. Lets blame middle-age. I don’t know what’s come over me but be assured I’ll be back to my self-obsessed, self-indulgent self as soon as possible.

What I am reading is Julian Fellowes, thanks to Arrjaydub, that will be a post next week. I’m desperate to live amongst London’s aristocracy and I need to tell you why…