I am beginning to remember why it is that I dread September so much. Actually, dread is the wrong word... I both love and hate September though, for the same reason. For the past three weekends in a row, i've had a minimum of two birthdays to attend. And inevitably, it always ends up in a long and messy night, crawling around some dark and seedy club, and then feeling like crap for the rest of the week while you recover... broke... and wondering where all of your money has gone. I'm really not a very social person. I can be social, and certainly take a very active interest in my friends. But i'm also someone who needs some time to myself, just to reflect, relax, and do some of the other activities that I have in my life. My record buying and book have all been sidelined during September, so I hope it doesn't peeve or inconvenience too many people. But last week was a great example... Monday and Wednesday, I was in the office until 7pm, and by the time I got home, I was just exhausted. Tuesday night was a visit from Lyle, which was lovely. Thursday night was actually spent in the emergency ward of The Alfred when Ant was having nasty chest pains. And then Friday night was just collapsing on the couch wondering where the week has gone to. I don't want to sound like a whinger, but September can be very taxing and is certainly taking a toll!
It's been so long since I wrote anything down here. I had hoped to write something lovely about Ant and my first anniversary, but time has just flown by and now we're three weeks past the event. The night was fun, celebrating Ant and my first anniversary, along with Leon and John's first anniversary, and Michael and Lyle's birthdays. Big night. Some of it a little hazy. But it felt like a great way to celebrate a milestone like this for Ant and I since we met in that club (yes, I am referring to The Market).
Work has been interesting lately. I was saying to Michael while we were out last night that sometimes I feel like i'm on it, and other times I feel dumb... but I don't mind as it just feels like i'm learning again. I don't mind being in a slightly more vulnerable position while I grasp these concepts and experiences, although it can obviously be sometimes very frustrating. I understand the music industry well. I could make good judgements and decisions based on my knowledge, and I still am proud of many of the things I achieved during my time in that industry. And I guess there is a frustration that I never thought I would reach my early 30's and have to start from scratch again and withstand that feeling of... um... not being the 'golden boy'. I guess I have to be careful how I phrase it, cause these are my words and not Michael's. But in the music industry, I sometimes felt like 'the golden boy' (regardless of if I was or not), cause I was conceptualising ideas and products that I felt made a difference to the artists I was working with. I'm still thinking of studying marketing. I miss sitting around a table, with a product there, and talking about it, coming up with ideas and concepts, and using our creativity to be clever and to 'sell'. I don't mind recruitment, but it is a lot more confrontational than what I would've thought, and it is more aligned with sales than anything else. I do know that I can win people over, but I do it submissively, whereas sales is a lot more aggressive than that. However, Michael has said that he is happy with how i'm going, and I think we're managing that line between close friend and employer well.
I've been deliberately making time to reply to some long overdue emails lately. I think it is a shame that some friendships often disappear because the reason the friendship was there in the first place has gone. There are so many people I think about often and wonder how they are, yet sometimes dropping an email 'hi' seems so... 'mass'?... that I tend to wonder what the point would be. I don't doubt that if I socially ran into these people out, we would have a fantastic chat and there wouldn't be this 'why didn't you keep in touch' routine that some clueless people feel the need to drop on you... like, sure, maintain a friendship via guilt trips. I understand why the lack of contact exists, and certainly can't blame them... but what i'm saying is that there are always a handful of people who I should drop a line to, although I have no real reason to drop a line at all. Wow, this paragraph really is just one big old rambling trainwreck, ain't it...
I got into a good conversation with Foutolla last night. At one point, she reached over and grabbed my side. I backed away, stating that I didn't like people touching 'my fat'. She asked for me to drop my superficiality, and that she would accept me for who I am regardless. I mentioned that it wasn't about her, it was about me. A lot of enjoyable blah blah goes on at this point, but it ultimately leads to a conversation about superficial attitudes. I think it is amusing that the modern day political correctness still enforces that superficial judgements are wrong. And, obviously, I agree - we have no right to judge other people as we would not like them to judge us. But to not acknowledge that part of us is like the old 'elephant in the corner of the room' philosophy. I tried to explain my point of view by saying it was like going to the supermarket and looking at tomato's. Now, you might look at one that has a bit of spoilt skin or some mark, and immediately put it down because your judgement states that the marking has made it an inferior tomato. Now, just because that mark is on the tomato's skin doesn't mean the body of the tomato could've been used in other ways, but the surface marking immediately made the consumer put it down. It's an example of a superficial judgement that is entirely acceptable. Granted, there is a fine line between an observation that is superficial and a 'harsh and rude comment', but that would often depend on the context under which the comment was made. If it is a snivvling little queen who squeals something about "taking up their space' or something equally vacuious, then yes - it is unacceptable. But then, how often does our 'hidden away' superficiality make judgements in reverse? How often do we assume that someone would not be interested in us based on their clothes, job, looks, weight, materialistic possessions. That was part of the beauty of the internet and chat rooms is that it brought things back to thoughts and beliefs without preconceived judgements getting in the way. Buff queens would talk to indie-bohemians and engage in, hopefully, a conversation that might enlighten them a little more, and a conversation that probably wouldn't have existed otherwise. I guess the bottom line is that I am a complete package, and to ignore a part of that package is like removing a link out of a chain. I don't deny a superficial side to myself, but by working with it and understanding it, it does help provide me with more insights into myself and into understanding other people better. (more rambling... more trainwrecks)
All this made me think of my half finished book sitting on my PC. I really wish I could get off my arse and finish it. But I was saying to Foutolla last night that I think I have to rework how I would do it. What is there, as rough as it may be, is really useable. It needs some direction... but what is there is some great musings from someone prior to a devastating blow. It reeks of optimism and well being and... control. But now, there is a different me, and while it would still be optimistic, it is a little wiser, cynical, perhaps even confused. I preached going with the flow in the first draft, which is ironic since that implies letting go of control... but it feels like an even more solid mantra now, since I don't have as much control as I used to have. I am content, but certainly feeling like i'm not 'there' again yet, wherever there is. All I know is that I still haven't found what i'm looking for, although i'm not entirely sure what it is that i'm looking for anyway. I will always remember my 30th birthday as being a milestone, and I can't think of a time when I felt more in control, influential, loved, stylish, handsome, thin, and just utterly feckin' fabulous. I'm a bit more battered now, but I guess I need to think of myself like a muscle, which needs to be torn in order to rebuild itself stronger. I'm still rebuilding, and constantly thinking, and wondering what is next... i'm guessing the search will end when I feel that next is here.
As usual, another blog filled with rambling, musings, and not really much point, but they do feel good to get out of my head and onto a screen where, hopefully, anyone interested might be able to comprehend them more than through my mumbled and shy talk. I do wish I could be more 'story like', like what Seb does with his blog. That man needs to write a book - his take on the world is just so priceless and uplifting, especially when he writes through his flaws. 'Pump It Up Woman' is a movie in the making, i'm sure of it. And then there is the fabulous Margeaux, who is getting himself into a Cher frenzy, as one would expect. I'm still not convinced on paying $495 for an eskimo pie, bottle of water and a lanyard, but Ant and I are discussing where our budget may allow such an extravagance. In the meantime, I should go and pay some attention to my beautiful boyfriend who manages to put up with me constantly, and to try to get across some of this record wrapping I need to do for the UK, cause it is a big BIG job and is really beginning to cause me a little stress over how long it takes. As usual, anyone who wants to write to me, I always love receiving things other than spam and my various digests, and thank you all for reading all of this rough dribble (I don't believe in drafting for blogs... I rarely believe in drafting ever... which probably explains why i'm not a writer...)
And now, as an added treat... I recently came across a stash of old Focus' and had a lot of fun looking through them and finding some old pictures from the past, and thought I would scan them and put them up so you can all see some ancient relics from my past...
Ahhh, the old Cafe Curo. It would be open to all hours of the morning, and it wasn't uncommon for me to finish my shift at The Xchange and head up there with some of my co-workers. I remember that they had bought a shitload of cake for one Midsumma carnival and ended up having a coffee & cake for $5 special for months afterwards with the left over pieces. Amazing what fridges and microwaves can do nowadays. The drag queen there is Lulu, who was an interesting person. Patrick (Lulu boy) kind of disappeared off the scene a few years back in domestic bliss (one would assume), although he always thought I was very dull and boring anyway. I think 'liberian' was the term he came up with. Damien, who is the other lad there, was a very close friend of mine for a few years there. In fact, I looked up to him like a big brother. But then when the falling out happened between housemate Scott, Audi and I, Damien seemed to take sides and refused to speak to me after that, which hurt me enormously, and not long afterwards, he moved up to Brisbane. We have caught up in recent times though, and I still have a lot of time for him, but I guess it is a case of different circle different movements. I look very bored in that shot though...
This shot was taken when we had gone to some incredibly dodgy bar over the other side of town. Again, I was working at The Xchange during this time, along with Neil and Fabian. Neil, or Nelly, taught me a lot during those years, which is a rather scary concept in retrospect. I think he taught me to loosen up a bit. Neil really isn't that much older than me but always seemed to have this cocky confidence about him that you had to admire. I would eventually resign from the Xchange in protest of how Neil had been demoted when they brought in Tom to manage the place, but I guess I also had JB to fall back on at that time. I have not seen Justin in years but he was an intriguing character - great sense of humour - intelligent and biting - couldn't dance to save himself - had a drag alter-ego called Dawn Syndrome. Favourite moment was watching him come on to perform some track about 'the summer breeze' before a big dance party in Melbourne and running around with a can of fart spray frustrating the poor frocked up queens. I remember that night especially, as Miss Candy came out straight afterwards and performed some number where she literally spat Corn Flakes and Milk out over the audience repeatedly. I don't think i've cried in laughter so much at a drag show in a long time... in fact, I generally tend to avoid them nowadays cause they have seem to lost that sense of fun and all take themselves far too seriously.
Let's see... taken at The Xchange... would've been around 98... Lyle, who is a bit of a soul mate, had just come back from the UK. On the night of his return, he met Bradley, and started this month long relationship with him, which meant me never really seeing him. I was actually writing a script at the time called "Struggling With The Company Of One", but it began to reflect what was happening between Lyle, Bradley and I so much that I stopped for fear that I was predicting our future. The play was about two close friends, who in the first act, decide that they want to learn everything they can about picking up in one night... but then the second act looked at how their friendship evolved with the introduction of a third significant person. Hamish... another interesting one... far too camp for his own good... was possibly one of the worst housemates I ever had... He meant well but he just had a knack of being able to push my buttons and frustrate me beyond belief, and at the end of the day, he was better off living with people more on his wavelength. It made me feel bad cause I could see he was just being him but he made me want to be horrible to him cause it was just a total clash of personalities. He believed in being camp for the sake of being camp, but then gets upset when he saw someone being gay based for that exact reason. It often felt like he just never learned from what life was trying to teach him, and I wasn't prepared to be a teacher. In the end, his actions lead to us being evicted from our home and losing all of our bond. He is not on my Christmas card list.
Best I leave it there... dinner is here and i'm hungry... thanks again! :)
