Slap! Reality Check.

Firstly, who said Australia was homophobic? Gays may not be able to marry but there’s a long weekend to celebrate the Queens. I love Kate and Will as much as anyone but I’m a Republican at heart so I’m ignoring any Queen other than my people. Thanks for the long weekend to celebrate us!

It may seem like three random stories today but I promise it will all make sense in the end. Stick with me, have faith...

Couch.

I sat down on my beloved couch at approx 9pm on Friday night and got off again at approx 12noon on Sunday. Yes, I rolled myself into bed both nights but that was at the very last moment before my eyes shut only to quickly return upon waking. Had a fridge full of gourmet snacks, Belvedere vodka and some B&H on the outdoor table. There is nothing either Little Sammy or I could want for. Had both heaters going all weekend creating a very cozy Man Pit. Jeez I watched some brilliant television and ate myself up two sizes.

First night/day/night was all Law & Order, no shock there. Then the absolute highlight! My new friend Arrjaydub brought over the entire first series of Downton Abbey. Heaven, so brilliant, this is one of the best TV series ever made. I can not recommend enough. Shame my allegedly gourmet quiche and pork pies were shit otherwise it was a perfect sensory experience. Then I introduced Arrjaydub to another of the all-time greats - West Wing! So much television, so much food. Completely self-indulgent, lazy, luxurious few days.

Third all-time greatest television series.

Potts Point.

I am so confused by Potts Point! I like neat little descriptions for things so that I can easily sort in my head. Potts Point confuses the hell out of me. It is such a weird mix of just about everything. Gorgeous gourmet deli’s next door to a shop where you can buy a 12 inch dildo. Beautiful homewares stores half a block down from a sordid strip bar. And the people on the streets reflect this. Mostly it’s your standard Eastern Suburbs glamour-set with their fur collars, designer denim and giant sunglasses. But then around the corner you have the complete contrast of anorexic strippers and giant scary bouncers. I also smell the whiff of a methadone clinic. So confused.

Mark David Jones took me exploring yesterday, and of course we were exploring for food and drinks – it’s what we do best. Mr MDJ took me for my first experience of Fratelli Paradiso. I whinged my way through a 15minute wait for a table before we had a gorgeous, generous lunch of calamari, pasta and steak. The food was divine, so were our vodka’s and wine. We didn’t bat an eyelid at our Monday lunch bill before heading to Green Park Hotel for a quiet afternoon drink. Just a lovely, lovely afternoon. Thanks Mr MDJ.

Fratelli Paradiso

Monday Night.

Reality check. Some nights when Little Sammy and I go for our evening walk we pass the line-up of disadvantaged men and women who are waiting for the kind and compassionate people who deliver their evening meal. This is embarrassing to admit but I always have a brief moment where I check where my phone and wallet are. Normally there are about 30+ people lining up. Last night there were about 60-70, possibly more. We can walk around with blinkers on sometimes, claim ignorance and pretend not to see what un-nerves us; last night was different. It was a sobering wake-up call. At the risk of sounding patronising, it really broke my heart.

It has been so cold and so wet all weekend. Where have these guys been, how have they stayed warm? You can imagine after a weekend like that they would be aching for a hot meal. No wonder numbers were so high last night. No wonder there were so many men and women politely lined up with their possessions - first in, first served – for the chance at some comfort. I was feeling like a fat, lazy pig after a weekend of pure indulgence, excess and comfort. All while there were at least 70 men and women in my neighbourhood who were struggling to find any sort of comfort. Slap, huge reality check.

For all my whinging and moaning here at St. Murphy I am one of the incredibly lucky and fortunate ones who really has not a care in the world.

Signing up for volunteer work with Father Chris Riley's first thing today.

Father Chris Riley's Youth Off The Streets food van (Google Image pic)

The '90's are now Retro, but I do not want to relive them.

This post is inspired by and dedicated to the fabulous Edenland. She is a new blogging/Twitter friend of mine who I’ve actually met in the flesh. We were chatting away on Twitter and we think we may have also met at some dirty, seedy night club in the debaucherous 90’s. I set Edenland the task of choosing this posts subject matter; she went with how the 90’s are now retro even though they only seem like yesterday. Lets hope I do it justice!

It’s weird to think about the 90’s cause I really can’t put my finger on any distinct trends – in music or fashion. I know I had a ball but what I was wearing or listening to is beyond me. The 80’s is a walk in the park with all that brightly coloured shit, should pads, power dressing and pop music. They stick very clear in my memory. The 90’s I’m not so sure. It’s a mixed bag. This could be because it was a decade of excess and I remember very little. There were two very distinct periods for me in the 90’s which says much more about my ‘personal journey’ than what the 90’s were about. They were the Uni days and the Sydney days.

University: ’92 - ‘96

I went to Uni in Bathurst, had no money, and was slowly working out if I had any personal style at all. I certainly had none when I started there. Country Road was exotic, cutting edge fashion for me before I went to Uni. I got in touch with my care-free hippie side and used to wear my pyjama pants to class with RM Williams boots. I’d buy hemp jackets at the markets and team it with a dress shirt from Vinnies. We all did! Uni at Bathurst was this weird mix of country style, city chic and a wannabe-bohemian alternative style. Not having a clue what or who I was I dipped my toe in everywhere. I was from the country, destined for Sydney and living the classic student life so I had to cover all my bases. Also, living on Austudy means you really don’t have much choice to follow fashion. A shirt at Vinnies for $2 lasted me about 5 years, I was still wearing it out on Oxford St many years later.

There were two albums that were released while I was at Uni that if you didn’t know all the words to than you may as well kill yourself. Alanis Morrisette’s Jagged Little Pill and Oasis’ WonderWall. They, along with Peter Andre, are the only music releases that stick in my mind from that time. Having said that, my whole life I’ve never been very good with music. The only constant has been the beautiful Madonna who had a number of key releases during this period. I still adore her today. We used to dress up in our Saturday night best to dance at a League’s Club. That about says it all of my musical awareness in the early 90’s.

So now that the 90’s are considered Retro there is very little I want to drag into 2011 with me from this time of my life. Except of course Madonna.

Syd-er-ney! ’96 - ‘00

When I first arrived in Sydney I was still wearing this weird mix of styles from my Uni days. I reckon within 2 months of my first pay check I’d had the complete Oxford St make-over! Out went the hemp jackets and in came lycra. By ’97 I swear there was not one natural fibre in my entire wardrobe. The late ‘90’s on Oxford St were heaven to me. I used to go out on my own and come home with 100 friends all while wearing my cutting edge lime green satin pants with a skin-tight royal purple lycra T. I had started work in PR and to think back now what my bosses must have thought of my ‘business’ clothes makes me cringe. Shiney black shoes with big buckles. An olive synthetic Morrissey suit with zippers worn over a shoe-string singlet to an Awards night. Flourescent shirts with a skinny-legged powder blue pant. I can not tell you how hot I thought I was.

The only music I remember was the bubble-gum dance music of The Flinders and The Albury. By the late-late ‘90’s I’d started to go a bit more hardcore with big weekend at DCM’s, or as we called it Gorilla’s In The Mist, and the downright dangerous BlackMarket (and this is where Edenland and I think we may have met). For these nights of craziness it was head-to-toe black synthetic teamed with chunky silver jewellery. Today this jewellery would not pass through a metal detector, back then guns would get by. My favourite album without a doubt was Sash!’s It’s My Life with the epic track Ecuador. That song could raise the dead.

The late 90’s were a special time for me, still such a big part of who I am today. But even with that sentimental attachment I do not ever want a synthetic wardrobe again. My skin would revolt. And for me to hit Oxford street now in anything as tight-fitting as lycra would have me stoned. Love-handles are difficult to squeeze into a Small women’s disco top like I could in ‘97. The 90’s may now be retro but there is no trend from that time that I want to have make a fashionable comeback. I remember them fondly but do not want to relive. That’s how I think of the ‘90’s.

**Now my dear Edenland has one of the best bloggers you will ever read. It's impossible to do her justice by trying to describe why. It's her life laid bare and it's a truly beautiful thing. Please take a look...

Edenland

**Sorry about the boring pics -  besides Edenland - computer download issues over weekend.

Strangely not lonely being alone.

Pretty dumb headline now I think about it. What I’m trying to say is that even though I am now alone and spend a lot of time on my own, I’m liking that I don’t feel lonely. A couple of months ago I really thought that I would.

But of course that is too long for a headline.

It’s one of those realisations that just crept up and SLAP. I’m quietly pleased. When I first moved in to Man Pit in March it was the first time since ’98 that I had lived on my own. Also, it was the end of a 6 year relationship so of course I was nervous about how I would handle it. Now a few months in its time to reflect and analyse, see how what’s gone on with the benefit of hindsight. And I think my apartment tells the story…

I think for the first few weeks I was obsessive about my new place, Man Pit. Obsessive! Every detail. I went to Moore Park Supa Centre about 12 times, as well as heaps of other furniture places, as I fitted it out in a finely tuned dance of seek-assess-plan-compare-purchase. So happy with everything I got that I treated my new home like a museum. And rarely left it. For those first few weeks I was very busy keeping it pristine and getting to know myself within it. Seems a little bit psychotic now, but I guess getting to know Man Pit and my new stuff was like therapeutically getting to know my new bachelor-self.

I got to know the local area a little bit but on the whole I stayed within these four walls. Subsequently I developed a pizza and oven-food addiction. Then the pendulum swung completely the other way, it was a full 180 degree turn-around. I started to show off Man Pit to anyone who’d come over and I madly filled my diary. I wanted to be out & about and fabulously single. Booked in dinners, drinks and catch-ups so many nights. I’d got my confidence up and wanted to be a part of everything and anything. Now I had my new home sorted I could explore.

This lasted a while as I reconnected with the outside world. I stopped treating my home like a museum and it started to feel lived in. Dirty clothes piled up and dust gathered. Then without even realizing I slipped into the third and current phase. It’s home now! Man Pit feels lived in. I am so unbelievably comfortable here, with my own little routines, that I am actually completely contented. It can have shit everywhere, or be as clean as a whistle. I know the lights so well I change their effect depending on my mood. It’s a place that I can change the function of with a simple sliding of a door and depending what time of day it is. I love it. It has everything I want.

So in this current phase I’ve become a lazy, boring home-body. Given a choice I’ll always stay on my couch with my laptop and Foxtel remote, Little Sammy beside me. I’m especially bad on weeknights. Just realized I’ve spent every night at home this week. Weekends I’m a little more active but having said that I’m going into the long weekend with very little planned. Actually need to fix that so will get on the bat-phone. Still haven’t quite got the balance right obviously, even in phase three. Finding the right balance will be the goal of the upcoming fourth and I think possibly final phase.

To quote all great reality shows, it’s been a ‘journey’. Slowly getting my shit together. But very happy with where I am. The good news is that I am contented and happy to be on my own and living on my own. It’s not as scary as I thought it would be to be stuck in my own head so much. It’s been kinda cool actually. I’ve always known that ‘home’ is important to me, that I need an anchor. I need my stuff around me. Now I realise I’ve come to think of Man Pit as home.

Now if I can only get the balance right between home-body and society princess…

Bangers! Whatcha got for me?

In just over a week I will have landed in Bangers! No better place to spend your 39^th Birthday than Bangkok.

I’m fleeing the city for the big day cause there ain’t much to celebrate at 39. That’s not because I’m unhappy or anything, but with the huge celebration of my 40^th fast approaching, anything this year pales in comparison. I want to save all my party-fever for next year’s extravaganza. Oh its gonna be massive. 4-0 deserves nothing less.

So for this year I’m sneaking off to Bangers for a lazy 6 days of shopping, eating and drinking just to be completely self-indulgent. Have booked into a fabulous hotel, the Lebua Tower Club. You may recognise it from The Hangover 2 cause that’s where it’s set. I am going to be SOOOOO South-East Asian glamorous!

Lebua Sky Bar

But I need your help. I have only ever spent 24 hours in Bangers so I’m not really sure to do with my time there. I need your tips and recommendations. Like I said, I want to be completely self-indulgent, so here are the kind of places I’m looking for…

* Fabulous, gorgeous day spas

* Beautiful restaurants

* Shopping centres that sell everything you could possibly want to buy

* Bars that are crammed full of gorgeous people

* Nightclubs that make me look pretty

Now having said that, there are also things that I am NOT looking for…

* Any act that involves a ping-pong ball

* Any bar where you slip someone money for anything other than a drink

* I do not want to have “now is that a man or a woman?” go through my mind

Flood me with your hot tips and recommendations. I’m up for anything as long as it is a little extravagant or too much fun to handle.

Would love to hear what you think!

Thanks all, appreciate your help.

xoxoxo

Shelley Argent Rocks My World!

I have a new Heroine! Move over Madonna cause there is a new No. 1 in my life.

Her name is Shelley Argent and I think she is just the most amazing woman I’ve ever known of; and I’ve only known of her for 24 hours. How’s that for having an impact. Let me tell you the story.

Shelley Argent

All started yesterday afternoon when a dear colleague was filling me in on the new Gay Marriage ad she’d seen – it reminded her of me. See I am incredibly passionate about the legalisation of gay marriage and equality for homosexuals. Anyone who’s been to this page before will know that. My blood boils every time I think that in 2011 I am still discriminated against by my government. I don’t care what the church or religious organisations think or believe, only my government. They are the catalyst for change.

There is nothing YouTube can’t provide you with, nothing. Had the video in 10secs, here it is…

I loved ‘the mum’ instantly, and I of course loved her message. But what struck me about it is that Shelley Argent OAM herself had ‘”spoken and authorised” it. Who is this woman? What is she about? How do I not know about her?

Another quick search and I learnt Mummy Argent has been at this for a while. Here is her ad from Sept 2009 directed at then PM Kevin Rudd.

With each moment this woman is becoming more and more my hero. But I want to know more. Google I go, here is her amazing bio from when she was the Queensland Senior Australian of the Year 2011! My Anna Bligh never lets me down.

"Shelley Argent’s path to becoming one of Australia’s most successful advocates for gay and lesbian rights began in 1998 when her son told her that he was gay. Determined that he not be considered a second-rate citizen, she has devoted herself to encouraging understanding and acceptance of all gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people. Shelley immediately became an education volunteer with the then Queensland AIDS Council and completed studies to gain competencies in HIV/AIDS education and emotional support. When she came across Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays (PFLAG), which was not particularly active at the time, she reinvigorated the organisation and became its driving force. As its current President she offers support and information to families and friends of gay and lesbian people. When her son first came out she discovered there were very few resources or written material for families, so she began writing a series of educational booklets. Shelley is a courageous and loving mother who has not only supported her own son, but has also been a leader and great support to other families. She is working for a world where her son can enjoy the same rights, respect and privileges as everyone else. ."

Not only is she a fierce advocate for gay marriage but Mummy Argent also RUNS PFLAG IN QUEENSLAND! This warms my heart beyond belief. PFLAG are a truly special organisation and the work they do with the families of gays and lesbians is priceless. This woman is a saint in my eyes.

And just when you think it can’t get any better… I discover that Mummy Argent had written a piece for The Punch yesterday to coincide with the broadcasting of her ad. I beg of you to take 5 minutes to read it. Every word of her piece rings so true for me. Here is one incredibly smart, passionate, considerate, contemporary woman who takes the bull by the horns. I love this piece. An excerpt…

“We parents provide our children with all of the love and support we can give. We hope to provide them with the best education and provide for their every want and need. But we can not provide our sons or daughters with equal rights. 

Only the government can do this.”

I love and adore Shelley Argent and I want to do everything I can to support her activism. In a very short space of time she has become iconic in my eyes. She is not only an amazing mum to her gay son but I dare say a fabulous mother figure to the whole gay community.

She is my new hero!

A more detailed bio on Shelley can be found here, she is an amazing woman.

Fuck you Smoking!

Goddamn I feel like I have spent most of my adult life trying to quit smoking.

***WARNING! A verbally violent (self-directed) post

Death vomit!

I am so sick of filthy smoking! I have pretty much been a smoker since the day I first had one at the grand old age of 20.5 years old. The dark years where up until about 34 when I ‘successfully’ quit for the first time – but that’s not to say I hadn’t tried heaps of times before. Since 34 I have gone long periods without one, and also very short periods before I’ve had my next.

I have literally tried every trick in the book to quit. Let me list them for you just so you get the full picture…

Hypnotherapy

Patches

Lozenges

Allen Carr Easy Way to Quite Smoking

Allen Carr If you Can’t Quit This Time You’re An Idiot

Champix

Zyban

Cold Turkey

I’ve seen doctors, therapists, self-help guru’s…

The most successful I’ve ever been was 6 months late last year on the lozenges then NYE fucked me up. Just did 3 weeks and then fucked up again last weekend. It just drives my insane and leaves me furious! Why are cigarette companies left to make millions off the sale of these little bitches of things.

Should be coloured black!

Smoking is this unbelievably weird combination of emotional, physical and psychological addiction. Somehow you are meant to conquer all three addictions at once and still come out of it like life is normal. For me, and I know how tragic this sounds, smoking is a ‘normal life’ for me.

My chest hurts, I stink, stairs are my worst nightmare and given the history of cancer in my family I just know it will be the cause of my death – and chances are that will be premature.

And at the risk of grossing you out… I’ve lost 7, I repeat 7, teeth from gum disease. So not only is it causing death in almost every part of my body it will also mean I can eat nothing but soup for the rest of my life.

SMOKING MAKES ME SO ANGRY! Battling this demon is EXHAUSTING!

I 100% believe that smoking should be made illegal. It is a fool government that doesn’t try to push this through. As addicted as I have been over the years I know as fact that if it wasn’t so easy for me to buy them then I wouldn’t be able to smoke the way I have. The savings in healthcare for all involved would be astronomical! Just ban the fuckers and be done with it, PLEASE!

B&H - You have SOOOO much to answer for!

It is the single greatest regret of my life that I didn’t stop back when I was a carefree Uni student, back when I thought that my life was indestructible. I can not even fathom how different, how much better, my life would/will have been if I never started smoking. Fucking ridiculous that something that can so dramatically damage a life like that is available from Coles and Woolworths supermarkets, and your local newsagent.

Not making any promises here today. I’m sick of telling people I’ve quit only to have to try and explain why I’m holding a cigerette two weeks later. It’s the running joke with my workmates, I think my friends lost interest years ago. I goddamn bore myself with it.

Ban the shit-sticks and be done with it!

And I promise that I’ll try and extend my life by as much as possible and smoke as little as my stupid fucked-up addiction allows.

Do not let appearances deceive you!

Now I have a devoted life-partner, the beautiful and delicate Little Sammy! He is the king of Man Pit and rules with an iron paw. He is the most gorgeous companion a single inner-city gay man could ask for. Just look at him…

This is how he spends most evenings, snoozing beside me while I obsess over television/Twitter/Facebook/blog. He sleeps beside me every night and when we first snuggle into bed we spoon. We go walking together atleast twice a day like any romantic couple would, sometimes three times.

He is flawless in almost every way!

Notice I said ‘almost’?

Now have a listen to this, the audio from the same moment this shot was taken…

LISTEN TO LITTLE SAMMY HERE!

He snores like a 180kg truck driver! So unbelievably loud!

And he can start snoring literally five seconds after resting his head. I have to turn the TV up to drown him out. On those rare sleepless nights it can drive you insane. Lets also not forget that he sleeps for atleast 70% of his day. Now that is a helluva lot of snoring.

So while he looks like the cutest little angel you’ve ever seen, appearances can be deceiving. Deep inside Little Sammy is a Russian weightlifter begging to be let out.