So my sister gets married on Saturday. Time has flown a tad… and got another email from her today to let me know its 2 sleeps. Quite cute really… it must be a surreal feeling to know that “day” is coming up. So much is keeping me busy I hadnt even thought about it and feel slightly like George Clooney in “In the Air”. Wait, was that what it was called?

I had lunch with my Dad the other day and he asked me what part of the wedding I am looking forward to most. Um… hadnt thought about it. Before I could even ask him the same thing he told me his favourite part of the day would be to see my sister and her new husband happy. Which I thought was really sweet. I mentioned to him that I would feel like the odd one out now, as all three of my siblings would then be married, and I am the single, unmarried one. He shrugged and said I was independent and happy and free and thats all that mattered to him, and the rest of his children.
Fair Day was on Sunday. This is part of the Mardi Gras festival and its held in a park and there are stalls for any kind of gay or lesbian related activity you could think of. ie. any straight activity now with a gay version. Sports teams, gardening clubs, even animal acupuncture for gay dogs. Me and my mate Chem were tempted to join the hockey team cause we both loved it at school but then the name turned us off “the bent sticks”. Why cant a gay team just have a name that isnt cliche? Fair Day is also one of those days where you want to go just because, and even though its the same as last year. You run into people you really dont want to run into and also realise, hang on, gay culture is kind of crap. Do I even have to identify with all this? There is so much variety and niche groups yet its one big blanket of… not really feeling the belong factor.
Helping my mum go shopping for a wedding outfit for my sister’s wedding tonight. I asked her what we are looking for. “A nice pant suit”. “
So… like… Ellen?”
“Yes, like Ellen”
“Is this so you look like the cool lesbian mum at the wedding”
“Yes, I want to look like the cool lesbian mum at the wedding”.
“Hmmm so not a dress?”
“I dont wear dresses.”
So lets see what the outcome is..
Every morning at 7am, this loud horn sound is heard in my street. It is irregular and sounds like the car in Little Miss Sunshine, literally. STILL havent worked out where it is coming from and every morning it happens. And surprised it has gone on for this long without the woman across the road with the straw broom that she shakes at people who piss her off, complaining to the police. She did that once when we had a bonfire in our yard and all the smoke was going inside her house. Respiratory problem? Apologies.

Flushed out

So last night I was sitting outside a pub in the city, in a fairly quiet residential area. My mate went to the bathroom and I sat and stared out at the city, it felt oddly still. Thats my hindsight claim that I knew something weird was about to happen.

Mate came back and then it began to pour down rain, heavy heavy rain. Within a few minutes, the drain pipes were flooded and spraying onto us, and the gutters were full of water. Then the drains didnt allow anymore w

ater to go down and so began to pour over the pavement and across the road. As there were streets above us up the hill, it all funnelled down this one road and the road became a river. Before long, all the manholes in the road were hovering over gushing water coming from the sewers, including the sewerage pipes… and the river was all kinds of colours. Then waves started occuring and little rivers were going off to the sides into people’s houses. A cab drove through and got stuck in a hole that used to have a manhole cover
and the side of the taxi panel got ripped off and then floated down the road, as the cab drove off. Then two firetrucks turned up and all the fireman tried to get dressed inside their trucks, which was plain awkward and slow then they got out and went inside a building… no idea why.
Anyways, rain ceased a bit but water kept coming and I felt instantly like a kid and wanted to be out in it. My mate didnt want to get wet but I did, so I said goodbye and went out in it, and ran up the street, feeling the rain on me. Nah this isnt turning into a song, all good.
Ran into another mate up the road and his brothers. They tried to convince me to go to their place with some food and drinks but one looked sketchy so I declined and disappeared in the street, got cash out and had some mexican by myself. Somehow it is acceptable to sit in a take away food store by yourself but to sit in a restaurant by yourself, isnt cool. I dont think I ever have.
Then went to the bar where my best mate works, and sat there and caught up with him, while his drag queen friend had a chat too and told me bad date stories…
Just watching a video clip on TV by The Drums – Wanna Go Surfing, and I have concluded that 2010 clothing style is plain shit and designed for stick people and even on stick people it looks unflattering and like everyone is dressed to look 9.

A time capsule of break

I went away this weekend, to a place where I went with friends Easter last year. It is a getaway where it seems to just take away and drain the worry of stuff (even though we dont have that much to worry about in relation to… antelope drinking at a waterhole) It is just a peaceful place, and there is no schedule or plans, which I am not used to. So it leaves me having no idea what to do! So hung with my friends, read a book, watched the rain fall on the ocean (was a wet weekend) and went swimming A LOT. So much so, Ross and I thought it would be smart to do the following:

– Snorkel in murky water, then decided, hey lets find a clearer spot.
– Oh look there is a clearer spot, on the headland, lets walk there.
– Luke, follow us, it will be fun. Luke disappears and then we discover (only when we got back from our adventure later) fell into a hole amongst the rocks and scratched his body with rocks, during the fall. We just thought he was being Luke and doing his own thing.
– Hopped along the rocks, and whenever I do this, I picture being an Aboriginal person 2000 years ago, hopping along the same rocks and imaging how much easier it would have been, with tougher feet and agility and stuff. These two things we did not have.
– Saw a goanna and due to past experience as a child with goannas (large lizard) stepped quickly to the left, which is more rocks further down, and stumbling and getting a bit of a fright, oh ever so much (Enid Blyton anyone?) . The reason for the fear is a goanna did not act scared last time I approached one and it bolted towards me and tried to run up me. Nah, not a tree. This time he was chilled (assume he was a he.. ) and we continued on.
– Got to the point and stood on a large rock that said “caution submarine cable”.
– The waves were crashing over this rock, we put on our snorkel gear and after some hesitation (some, meaning a lot) jumped into the murky water.
– Couldnt see a thing, and so we paddled along the headland.
– Decided we were tough and decided to swim back the 500 m we just walked. In the surf in murky water.
– Have not mentioned to this point, Ross is a marine biologist and decided to mention, Bull Sharks LOVE murky water after a thunderstorm (it stormed an hour earlier) and usually you hear most people being attacked by Bull Sharks are during these conditions.
– Foggy goggles, do not help the paranoia there is something in the murky water.
– Both act tough and pretend we are not out of breath and ignore flashes of newspaper articles in my mind of two males caught in rip in middle of bay.
– Under the water glimpse to see what stroke Ross is doing, because I was slightly doing doggy paddle and slightly doing breast stroke. He was doing some sort of underwater freestyle thing. Good I wasnt the only one looking crap.
– Gradually get back there, and avoid rocks under the water.
– Get to beach and act casually that it was fun and an adventure.
I had to go for yearly health check up the other day, and part of this involved blood tests. Here in Australia, you are usually sent to a pathology lab to get these done. I fasted for 12 hours which you are supposed to do and went the next morning. The local pathology lab near work was… well.. not what I expected. It was a small brick building next to a car park and ferns and it was slightly raining and very humid. The “waiting room” was outside under an orning and there were 7 people standing uncomfortably around, noone sitting on the chairs that were there. What was wrong with the chairs? I assumed there had to be something wrong so did not sit there. But, what if the person before me and then the person before that just assumed the same thing and there ACTUALLY wasnt anything wrong with the chairs. With this logic, I sat on the chairs. It did not break but I got a death stare from an old lady. Sit down then, lady.
45 mins past and no movement in the queue. This huffing woman near me with two babies, turned to me and said, “I know where the other pathology lab is across the road. Take my baby and follow me and we can go to that one”
“Er, OK” What else was I to say…
We got to a freeway and she casually stepped out with her other child and assumed traffic would slow down, which.. it did. I carried this other baby in a small carry crib thing and we got to the other side. She wasnt even overly friendly, she was just on a mission and I was now involved with it.
We got to the other one, which was an even worse run down shack and sat outside, she got me a chair at least while I worked out how to carefully place the baby on the ground in this carry thing, while the small baby (girl?) stared at me, with the same blank assuming smile the mother had. Not adopted.
This roof dripped and after 15 mins and a few old ladies bitched about the wet grass and the health system, I got in and saw the pathology nurse and 5 mins later was out and heading to work.
Sitting here on a Sunday night and ready for the week ahead. Boss is back from overseas and no doubt it will be a full on week, but unlike a few weeks ago, I am more ready and bring it on I say.
Why do small hatchback cars stay in the fast lane and go 20KM under?
This is the view from the house at Mackerel. Peace and stuff.

Music and their chapters

I am probably not the only one, to see music as a memory system for memories and chapters in life. Oh, I am? Fair enough.

I can click through random on my music player of generic mention and every song, instantly a memory. And sometimes I am sadistic cause I make myself listen to a song that makes me feel sick because of the bad memory.
“Rewind” – Stereophonics.
This song, as soon as the opening guitar starts I instantly smell a cold morning at sunrise, and the wet of the dew sticking to my leather shoes. I am walking from my house up to work at Gloria Jeans Coffee Shop to open the store. My mind is feeling really numb and exhausted, knowing my mum just walked out on us for another woman, it finally was revealed she was having an affair. And my own relationship with my girlfriend was rocky as I went inside myself because of what was happening to my family and accepting my own sexuality after going to ex gay counselling to get “fixed”. But the song also reminds me of the hope and reality of just being honest and real, and they were also from Wales, the Stereophonics, and I was saving to get to UK and live in Wales. So you know, tied in and was all making sense to me.
A bird flew into our window today, it was making all this noise throughout the office and I was on skype to my boss and yeah he just flew through and smack. The bird, not my boss.
I am attempted a gluten free diet (oh crap I am talking about what I eat during a day, does that mean my blog is getting self centred.. ) and then bought this cereal and it was nice and yum, but then noticed it had soy in it. I dont like soy. The milk was nice though, and the apple pieces.
A french man just called me on my mobile. Its 8:25pm here, he is a TV producer in France and is making a documentary about our company so wanted to touch base via phone before he heads over. Is it just me, or do others struggle with people speaking English in accents, especially French. There are only a certain amount of times you can say “what?” But also I think only Aussies would say “what?” instead of “Pardon?”
Missed call from Dad. He left a voicemail, wanting to catch up with my week.
Anyone collect coke bottles? This one is yellow!