Project 289 - Day 60 : Glitter, Glitz and Sequin-Splattered, Chocolate-DIpped Strawberries : DAY 3 of Eurofest 2009

Today we hit the road in search of Eurovision magic in Sydney!

Actually no, we didn't but it sounds so much better than saying we were hungry and wanted brunch! We set off at the astonishingly early hour of 10 a.m. - well we partied till at least 11 p.m. the night before during semi-final 1! LOL - for Glebe Markets. 

They are, without a doubt, my favourite markets in Sydney, with lots of funky fashion, second-hand books (Kerry holds some particularly light reading - above), one-of-a-kind art, and the Canadian guy who creates the funky artwork that adorns my fridge (check out asyouseeitart.com), and, of course, the sweet and sour licorice that I usually buy bags of, and that is likely responsible for me putting on weight lately. I mean, no I haven't - I am svelte as always! And that is not a fattening South American sweet below, it's a very wrinkled brown...um... carrot, that I just happened to accidentally dip in melted chocolate. Totally accidentally. Really.

Our rediscovery of the world outside Eurovision complete - and a drab banal trip it was too without glitter, bombastic lyrics, and intensely delivered songs - we came back home and readied ourselves for the wonders of Sarkas from Greece (see below, displaying the sort of chest thrusting usually seen in guinea fowl at mating time), Hungary (who's completely straight singer - hahaha! - wore lime green pants that looked to have been surgically attached to his legs, so tight was the fit), the cute guy from Denmark (who sang a song by, and looked eerily like he was channelling Single White Danish Male in honour of Ronan Keating), a cuite from Croatia (who sang...hmmm.... just what did he sing? Do I care? Not really!)...... and dancing black and white bears..... yes, of course, there were... why wouldn't there be?

Project 289 - Day 59 : Waterloo! I Was Defeated, You.... OMG That Was 35 Years Ago! DAY 2 of EuroFest 2009

What does any sane rational kitsch-obsessed gay man do after a hard day toiling away in the Cubicle of Death and Greyness?

Why he goes home to see his dear friend, Kerry (who was feeling very unwell with a headache but rallied nonetheless, Eurovision tragic that she is, to watch the entire first semi-final, and cheer on her favourites, Israel -see above), and wait to be joined by his gorgeous guy, to watch the first Eurovision semi-final! Oddly enough for a man who loves Eurovision in an almost unseemly way, this is the first year I watched both semi-finals before the final. "Quelle fromage!" as my friend Lincoln is fond of saying. But distressing though that graphic admission is, it is, sadly, and no doubt I shall not hear the end of it when next I go to Oxford Street, it is the truth.

Still how better to face such dark secrets that could shame on entire Kylie of gay man (yes it's the collective term, I swear darling!) than to bury them deep where they turn into cravings for pizza, self-indulgent shopping and trips to healthy and beauty spas. Despite the fact that the words SEMIFINAL spelt out in large block letters on the screen looked a lot like Somalia from where I was sitting - apparently Somalia is not in Europe although you can hardly blame even a geographically literate guy like me for thinking so when Israel makes the cut! - the first semifinal turned out to be chock full of good songs and talented performers, which for those of us who adore the musical train wreck that Eurovision so delightfully often can be, was a sign tantamount to the four horsemen of the iPodocalypse riding by humming muzak.

Thankfully the inexplicable rise of decent talent to the Eurovision ranks was sullied in the best possible way by cheesy acts such as the Czech republic (see directly above this paragraph)- which featured a Freddie Mercury lookalike in an orange jumpsuit! - or technocolour acts so bright, such as Portugal (see directly below this paragraph), that they make Fischer-Price toys look monochrome. 

Mollified by the inclusion of such deliciously typical Eurovision acts as this, and wishing they would make the final (though we doubted that even the European public could stomach as much fromage as the Czech were happily offering!), we sat back, soaked all the rainbow-hued kitschness and wondered if the hosts (see below)- one a leering, female co-host groping major Russian TV star; the other a breathlessly vapid model with a slippery grasp of pre-scripted French phrases - were doing their utmost to restore the wackiness of old, all by themselves.

In the end, we simply didn't care. It was Eurovision. Is cheesy. Is good.

Project 289 - Day 58 : Viva Brizvegas! DAY 1 of EuroFest 2009

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What an amazing 25 years it has been.

No, I am not reflecting on how long the blog has been running, although sometimes I am sure it feels like that! I am actually referring to the deep and wonderful friendship I share with my dear friend, Kerry, who I met at Griffith University 25 years ago in Brisbane Qld, and who has remained through good times and bad, one of the most special friends you could wish to have. To celebrate, she decided that we would a fabulous weekend centred around Eurovision, the kitschy but fun singing contest that we both love, and follow avidly.

So she arrived tonight - unfortunately having to cool her heels at the airport for just over an hour till I could escape work to come and get her! - and after some enormously exciting grocery shopping on the way home (what a thrill-a-minute I give my guests!), we met up with my lovely man and headed out to dinner in Erskineville, at the always dependable and yummy, Stir Crazy Thai (photos above).

But not before road testing some glitzy pompoms that we picked up in the aisles of that high end party supplies store, Woolworths (above and below). Alas they didn't have silver or white so we could match the colours of the Russian flag, but we are making do with red and blue, and with our fervent appreciation for odd English lyrics, overwrought singing, and this year's flavour of the month, wailing women and violins, we are psyching up for the first semi-final tomorrow night when my favourite Norway, will hopefully make it into the final!

Project 289 - Day 57 : I Vacuum Therefore I Suck? Hmm...

Wow a what a snazzy vacuum cleaner you say! Surely this is the confirmation we have been looking for that Andrew lives a fabulously hip amazing lifestyle, unencumbered by the dreary realities of our earthborne existence.

To which I would naturally reply - "What have you been smoking and where can I get some?!" But enough of your depraved drug-ridden existence. What the vacuum actually signifies, hip, red and funky as it is (and bought at K-Mart with the brand name 'Piranha' proudly emblazoned on it's side), is that tonight was Get Ready You Have a Guest A-Coming To Visit! Yes, a festival celebrated the world over whenever house guests are imminent, marked by frantic shoving of disparate items in any receptacle that will take them, vacuuming of all and every surface, and the long overdue cleaning of just about every thing really, all breathlessly leading to the transformation of a normal looking apartment into an eerie reckoning of every sterile Home Vogue you have ever seen in any and all home decorating magazines.

I tell myself every time that I won't succumb to this mania; that my apartment is well looked after and clean, and yet each time I become a frantic whirling mass of motion, cleaning, scrubbing and hiding with the sort of urgency the resistance used to marshal to hide Jews and Allied solders during WW2. It is nothing short of demented, and yet at the end of it with the recycling mountain actually in the recycling bins (yes bizarre I know but there's only so long you can call the newspapers and bottles spilling from the plastic cube near the kitchen, "Industrial Art Exposing the Degradation of Humanity in the 21st Century"!), the floors gleaming and pristine (no mean feat with carpeted floors I can tell you!!), and every last item neatly and artistically in it's place (or shoved into the nearest crevice), you look around, breathe a sigh of relief and realise.... you just wasted a whole night! 

No,of course you don't! ha! What you think is "Yes this was arduous and exhausting but I feel absolutely certain that now my physical surroundings are tidy, that my life is similarly crisp and neatly arranged". That is naturally the result of inhaling one too many chlorine-based cleaning products, but you ignore that fact, and glory in the fabulous perfection that is your life, for this night at least, and you await, with baited breath - clean baited breath, of course - the imminent arrival of your guest who will praise you and.... nah, who will not notice a thing and just be glad to see you!

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One important thing to note today - my Great Aunt Lizzie, with whom I spent many a fun and wacky moment growing up, and who lived an amazing life, turned 101! She is in a high care nursing home, and admittedly doesn't spend her days painting the town red, but apart from a treatable infection at the moment, is in remarkably good health. We fully expect to celebrate birthday 102 next year!

Pictured above left to right - my Nanna, Auntie Liz, my Aunt Helen and my lovely Mum 

A tragic celebrity victim of Swine Flu

Do it the usual way? I don't think so!!

Project 289 - Day 56 : The Dosai at the Eye of the Storm

What a nasty day.

Tuesdays are not usually my favourite day of the week, a fact I am sure I must have noted in previous blogs. They are this weird nothing day that sits near the beginning of the week, tainted by its dangerously close association with the calendar's pariah, Monday, but not far enough into it to draw the warmth and affection that Hump Day (Wednesday), Little Friday (Thursday, in the charming lexicon of the American South), and TGIF (Friday). In short, they are unloved, useless and destined to languish in the the nowhere land of workers' hearts.

They are also, in my cubicle-defined, Outlook-saturated world, the day when it all happens....  and I mean everything! All the meetings that people cooked up on Mondays come to me for scheduling (usually on top of the myriad other meetings already swarming over the calendar like flies on putrefying carcass), the trading report needs to be prepared for that day's senior management team meeting (drawing data from disparate sources, not all of whom get me the data at the same time), and a thousand other tasks coming screaming out of the woodwork - OK melamine-covered wood products sourced from local and imported trashed forests, the destruction of which may or may doom us for all eternity... see I told you work is bad for you! LOL - like mad ghosts intent on haunting the living till they go mad. Such a pretty picture huh?

Add to that, the fact that today's SMT meeting was a mishmash of thrown in agenda items, that completely swamped the actual agenda, and meant that the rambling talkfest lasted till 6.20 pm, way past it's scheduled finishing point, and I was a very big stress bunny getting on to the bus. I called my ever patient lovely man (seen cutting up a spicy potato dosai above), who talked me down from my emotional precipice, and after an hour of calming travel back to Newtown (thank you iPod!), we had a lovely, relaxing dinner where we discussed "Four Corners" report on the rugby league, Hillsong's grab for power and money (or 'spreading the gospel' if you are one of the gullible few!), at one of my favourite restaurants, Posh Spice. 

By the end of a great conversation, and a lot of staring into his kind blue eyes, and staring at his beguiling smile (and a few cuddles and kisses before I got out of the car when he dropped me home), I was much more at peace. Not exactly centred and zen-like - ha! Like that will ever happen to the anxiety bunny that I am at times! LOL - but calm, and aware that it was one bad day in a sea of mostly OK days. 

We'll see how long that mindset lasts on Wednesday!!

Project 289 - Day 55 : More Pills Than a Spam-Sending Pharmacist!

I am ridiculously healthy. Usually.

But this year my body, despite lots of 5 a.m. walks (which speaks to a disturbed state of mind more than anything!), some swimming and mostly healthy eating, has decided that illness is in, and rudely good health is so passe, darling. Not much gratitude for tending after it well, and making sure it doesn't look or feel 43!! I even took the flu vaccination jab at work this year, and while I didn't feel fabulous for a few days afterwards, that's pretty standard, and I rightly expected that my body, supine with gratitude towards me, would reward me by refusing point blank to contract any of the nasty flu currently rushing around our office from person like person like a partygoer at a rave on speed - "You are ze flu yes? Ha! I reject you, and look scornfully in your generale direction! Huh!"

Now to be fair this latest bout of sickness isn't the flu. So in that respect at least my body has somewhat played it's part. What it has contracted in a moment of "Oops did I leave the door to the immune system open? Sorr-rreee!", is a head cold and slight chest infection. Not the end of the world, and certainly channelling every last skerrick of my overwrought Protestant work ethic (and my mother's 'I may be deathly ill but I shall go to work anyway' example), I made it to work, and got lots done. But could I have performed better? Yes. Did I want to curl up in the Cubicle of Death and Greyness and sleep till Oprah comes on? Yes? But did I do any of that? No! Yes - I am an idiot!!! LOL

So today's photo, and yes those followers who are counting there is only one photo today 

(although the bylaws of the blog, written by me do state I can cram a whole album in here if the mood takes me! LOL), is of all the medication I am taking to make that the Good Ship, Andrew the EA, stays afloat during the working day, even if he limps slowly back to port at day's end, crawls into bed, and watches the Oprah re-runs he taped earlier in the day.

Project 289 - Day 54 (Sunday 10 May 2009) : Hey Ma! Look At What I Done Got You For Mother's Day

My mother lives quite some distance from me (or perhaps me from her since I am the one that moved) so I wasn't able to celebrate Mother's Day in person with her.

Thankfully she doesn't live in a galaxy far far away (can't waste an opportunity to get a Star Wars reference in can you? Oh, you can? Fair enough), or a long time ago (my grasp of time travel being rudimentary at best alas) so at least I could phone her and wish all the best on this artificial manufactured day created by card companies to plug the gap in events to celebrate through the year... oh dear, was that a little too cynical? LOL Regardless of it's antecedents, the day has become a celebration of all things warm, and mothery (and it seems Andre Rieu-ish too... surely there are mothers who like Bon Jovi or the latest Metallica CD?), and so after a lovely call to my Mum who was being pampered by my brother and sister, I headed over with my lovely man (see pic at top of blog) to Marrickville for a lunch with very good friends, John & Essie (in the below pic).

It was Essie's first Mother's Day, and as the mother of gorgeous twins (boy and a girl), she has earned her feet up-relax & chill-here's lunch on a platter day ..... and lo, she got it. John made a delicious batch of Coq au Vin (see way above!), and Coconut Cream Pie (and my bf made a yummy coconut & rum shot, the preparation for which led to the charming shot of me below with coconut bikinis), and along with my gorgeous man, and another friend Stephen (and John & Essie's neighbour, Simon) we celebrated, ate, drank, and made merry in a warm and fuzzy venerate mothers kind of way. It was a leisurely meandering afternoon, and after driving Stephen back across the Bridge to Neutral Bay, my gorgeous guy and I just crashed (not in the car thankfully - figuratively I mean!), grabbed takeaway chicken and chips, and cuddled, wishing that the weekend could be just that little bit longer.

It wasn't.

Project 289 - Day 53 (Saturday 9 May 2009) - Off On the Wavy Blue Yonder

Lots of gay men like to go cruising.

But then, there is, cruising.... and there is CRUISING in a fabulous old wooden yacht across Sydney Harbour from Glebe to Middle Harbour and then to Cobblers Cove, where we dropped anchor (note my clever use of obscure nautical jargon!) and spend a very pleasant 5 hours quaffing wine, and seafood, sushi, chicken wings (from chickens, the tuna of the sea as Jessica Simpson would no doubt describe them) ... and lamingtons! Yes lamingtons.

It was one of those perfect Autumn days that you'd write home to mother about in the old days. Now, of course, you'd blog, twitter or, heavens forbid if you're a complete Luddite, email. (Actually if you're a complete Luddite, you'd scratch the waxing lyrical about the weather onto a stone tablet, and throw it onto a donkey for the 6 month trip to your mother, by which point, it's um, not Autumn.) The only dark moment on this gloriously sunny day was the terrible head cold I developed overnight, but pumped full of Berocca (wow my first commercial endorsement) and Codral (my second one!), I sailed (every pun in the world intended) through the day, and it was a perfect Autumn day in my body all day long. Awwww.....

Anyway, regardless of how you'd pen your appreciation of the day, it was delightful - just enough sun, just enough wind, and the harbour, thankfully, was calm. I had visions of chuck chundering of the space patrol (barfing for the North Americans reading this) over the side of the boat if it got too rough and I couldn't find my sea legs (I know I packed them somewhere - where are they?!), which one of my fellow yachties helpfully suggested would "make a great photo". No doubt it would, and a colourful one at that (and it would have included carrot... why do 'protein spills' always include carrot?!), but I avoided that particular fate, and sat back, enjoyed the view at Cobblers, the company of the fun group of guys (including my lovely guy below) that we marked Mardi Gras Fair Day with, and the beauty that is Sydney Harbour. 

It was the perfect antidote to the stresses of the week that was, and I plan to work hard now to ensure I can afford a lifestyle like this one day. Of course, knowing me, and my spending proclivities (which make saving a challenge! LOL), I will likely end up with a cask of wine, a few Jatz and a dinghy bobbing just off the sewage plant at Malabar. Close enough. 

JUMP BACK In TIME : Letting Them Know Who's BOSCH (Sunday, 26 April 2009)

On the afternoon of Saturday April 25, 2009 the bf and I went to Good Guys Alexandria to buy the bf a brand spanking new top loader washing machine.

Apart from the thrill provided by that act alone, he bought a top loader because (a) it uses far less water than front loaders, (b) fits snugly in his unit's laundry where a front loader wouldn't (unless you planned to bathe in it too since you'd never reach the shower again!), and (c) it's very tres chic and European (like camembert and the Amalfi Coast but much gentler on your clothes). It also didn't hurt that the salesman was buff, and impossibly good looking!

Thinking the delivery would take place weeks hence, when they had a machine from their suppliers on the steppes of Mongolia, and had it transported by Bactrian camel and dolphin to Australia, we were pleasantly surprised when the machine was not only in stock but could be delivered the next day. It arrived exactly as promised, and so Sunday night after much fiddling to get the levels right (my gorgeous man can actually do home handyman stuff which is pretty sexy), we got ready to do the first load of washing, and being the compulsive photo taker that I am, I recorded it for posterity:

Step 1

Give it power and let it live!

Step 2

Measure the water just so - it's a German machine after all, and you must be precise!

Step 3

Tear the pesky tab of the washing powder... if it will let you!

Step 4

Pour in the water for the first run through which is water & detergent only, no clothes... I said, no clothes.... now put your clothes back on and stop being naked in the laundry

Step 5

Watch it start running... and running...and running for 112 minutes or so

Step 6

"Look Ma, It Really Works!"

Step 7

The TV still isn't connected so I resort to watching the machine... frankly the plot is threadbare, characters a bit soapy, and I doubt it will last more than one cycle...

Step 8

We tear off the pretty tags from the machine

Step 9

Behold, the first run through has ended....and the machine is ready to wash actual clothes all shiny clean and minty fresh!

.... and then we connected the TV and watched that instead!

Project 289 - Day 52 : Kick In The Butt or a Kick Off? Your Choice

Off to The Ivy tonight, a swanky drinking establishment in Sydney, for a company awards night.

Ordinarily these are not the most exciting of affairs, with all the thrill of paint drying on a long, slow weekend, but this one was actually fun. Held at The Ivy in a ballroom that looked like something out of a technicolour wonderland, the bf and I arrived all tarted up in our suits, sipped champagne and ate delicious food served with military precision by an army of wait staff. The speeches and awards were just the right length, interspersed with lots of mingling, conversation and food, and the night was finished off with an excellent cover band who had a singer who could actually sing, and crack musicians. 

The loveliest part of all was having my gorgeous bf by my side, and introducing him to all my work friends, who know about him, and know how happy he has made me, but hadn't met the man I am enormously proud to call my partner. Of course everyone loved him, and he charmed them all, but then of course that was a given. He also looked exceptionally handsome in his suit, and having him there at a work function, was the best thing after so many of them spent alone.

I also had my bestie from work, Sammi, at my table, and she, as always was an absolute delight - all effervescent, warm fun and one of the sweetest people you could hope to meet. She looked, as always, stunning and it was so much fun to have here there to laugh with, and share the night with.

For all the fun of the night, we left early at 11 pm (after eating dessert and petits fours natch! LOL) to meet up with close friends of his who were in town from the UK for one night only. They were lovely people, and an enjoyable couple of hours of conversation, was followed by a frantic dash to the car park to beat the 1 a.m. closing time! Yes, just the sort of thing you want at 1 in the morning!! But, and I apologise if the corniness of this sentiment induces vomiting, but I don't mind anything if my gorgeous man is by my side. Yes, I was profoundly out of breath. Yes I was very tired at 1 a.m.... and yes we had an early start the next day. But he was there through all of it, and that makes any night (or day), especially one as lovely as this had been, worth being around for.

Project 289 - Day 51 : iPod Therefore I Am

I read an article a week or so back about how noisy the 21st Century is, but being a city dweller of long standing, and obviously inured to the cacophony around me, I dismiss as the ranting of a whiner.

Not so today. I stand humbled and corrected. For today, I not only had to put up with a car alarm wailing like an endlessly bad piece of electronica (and trust me after 6 hours, we could actually singalong to the 'notes' of the alarm!), and an owner in a nearby building clearly deaf to the sound of his own car alarm (wow, great investment mate!! Someone could be stealing it, and you would blissfully on, unaware of the loss of your car), but they decided to test the fire alarm.... again.

Yes apparently running it for the fire drill the other day wasn't enough. It seems that someone decided that two days later, something about the alarm may have stopped working - trust me, it hadn't! (at least I could to say 'Emergency' with the deep baritone voice that accompanies the alarm) - and so they needed to test it again. To top it all off, a colleague down the open plan cubicle forest decided that bursting bubble wrap was a fun way to spend a few minutes.

Thankfully through all this, and endless bus and train journeys, my iPod was there, filling my ears with the sounds of Kaz James (great music - listen to him sometime!), and other artists, and blocking out the ugly sounds of modernity. It did mean putting the Blackberry right in front of me so I could see it ringing, and looking around a lot in case someone was trying to talk to me (yes I did my best gopher impressions, for which I won Best Gopher Impersonator at the Cubicle Theatre Sports Championships in Boise, Idaho, in 2006.... alas there's no such thing but how cool would it be if there were?!), but that was a small price to pay for sweet notes instead of raucous, unending ear-splitting noise.

Project 289 - Day 50 : Cute As a Button, Ian Comes to Town

Today's photos show two distinctly different facets to the day.

Photo one is a stunningly artistic shot of my suit jacket, which went last worn 18 months ago for the interview for my current job, lost the middle button (in the middle of the interview, which threw me a little at the time). Fast forward to now, and I needed my suit to be ready to go for a special awards night my division is staging at The Ivy tomorrow night. So typical of my unbridled optimism, I thought I could just dash to the local shopping centre, Macquarie Centre, get it stitched back on and hey presto, stylishly ready for the awards night (I even have an acceptance speech planned even though I am not nominated for anything - I think I will just stand up mid-awards and deliver it anyway; that should garner my some career-ending attention!).

Alas I didn't count on the Escher-like maze that is Mac Cent., and it took me 25 minutes to locate the alterations store. Was I happy after all this walking around. Oddly enough, no. I did get some time to shop at my beloved JB Hi-Fi where I bought 3 new CDs including jenny Wilson's funky left-of-centre newie, and that ameliorated the frustrations of traversing the maze to find the place of my suit's salvation, but frankly I was happy to get back to work, suit newly fab looking, all ready for it to go to the dry cleaners to be made all spick and span for the big night (where I likely will not be called upon to walk down the red carpet, which seems such a waste of a dressed up night!).

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With the practicalities of the day out of the way, I spent the evening catching up with my very good friend, Ian at a restaurant we both love, Citrus, which serves the biggest Scotch fillets steaks I have ever seen in my life. Seriously the one I had tonight could crush a man. Well OK, a very small man about 10 cm high with osteoporosis, and no upper body strength whatsoever, but he would be dead nonetheless! I removed this fearsome threat to life and limb by eating it and it's accompanying garlic mash and vegetables - tres delicieux, monsieur.... see Mrs Fields, I did pay attention in senior French! I really did! - while Ian and I talked about life, love, the universe, and The Liver Birds, one of those Britcoms I grew up with in the 1970s (along with The Good Life, and To The Manor Born) and still cherish. 

It was one of those relaxing, chewing the fat with a brilliantly good friend nights that eases the tensions of the day, and reminds you that while there are lots of things that demand our attention, that there are very few things truly worthy of our time. A night like tonight is definitely one of them, and I am all the richer for them.

Project 289 - Day 49 (Tuesday 5 May, 2009) : All Fired Up! Sort of....

It's true that it's very easy to slip into ruts and lose the passion that used to power you through life.

But frankly, getting all fired up again did not involved a fire drill at work! Yes, it broke up the day nicely, but beyond that, it didn't achieve much else but illustrate that even when insanely loud alarms are going off mere metres from my desk, and deafening all around me, that I am still quite able to ignore it and get on with work. To be fair so did everyone else, until the fire wardens, in their bright red hard hats told us to use the rust-tinged stairs to evacuate the 'burning' building.

The hilarious part is that they herd you past the 'burning' building in question, which means there is exceptionally good chance that in a real fire you would covered in burning debris and glass shards from the exploding windows. Mmmm, something for the pyrotechnically-addicted masochist in me to look forward to!!

We are supposed to all gather on a grassy area that lies right next to a major road - which means that you might survive the fire but stumble after all that smoke inhalation, and fall into the path of an oncoming car! - and yes we duly did, but all that happened then was we stood around for a while before taking 20 minutes or so to squeeze back in via the one small entrance on that side of campus. No debriefing so I have to assume, and trust me I have, that walking past 'burning' buildings, stopping for coffee on the way to the evacuation area, and milling around perilously closely to a major transport artery are all completely acceptable practices!

We're all doomed aren't we?! LOL

Winnie the Pooh in a Brave New Swine Flu World (LANGUAGE WARNING!)