It's my birthgay, again

I turn four today. Four birthgays.
Totally crept up on me, totally forgot about it, flicked the desk calendar over this morning and suddenly said to myself... "oh my god, it's my birthgay!".
Most of you wouldn't believe it has only been four years since I came out, but it is.
Over that time I've gone through an amazing gammut of emotions and experiences. I've encountered a lot of extremes I had not previously imagined, had my eyes opened and my prejudices challenged. These are all good things. I think I've become a much more rounded person. And, for the record, I'm very happy with where things are at.
I have a brilliant boyfriend, fantastic friends, a great career, I'm financially secure, have an interesting hobby which allows me to entertain people, I am fitter and healthier than I have ever been and I have plenty of self worth and esteem.
All very different to four years ago. (Although that's not to rubbish those friends who were my friends then and still are now, of course).
There are a couple of changes I'm going to make to my life. But I'm not putting them here just yet.
Things are good. Things are good and it's my birthgay.

Housing crisis hits Batswater

There is a bit of movement in Batswater ("You mean Bayswater, Dan?". No I don't).
Thom has, temporarily, moved in my Dad and I.
It is, as I say, not permanent. It is for a fortnight.
It may well save someone's life.
You see, it is Thom's brother. You may have already read here about some of Huw's exploits.
Well here is the crux of it. Thom's delightful mother had finally summoned-up the courage to "assist her younger son to success living outside the family home" (quotation marks for euphamism, not verbatim) following an impromptu break-and-enter party at 3am at Chateau Batswater by several of Huw's drunken mates.
The deal was the younger son was to spend his tax return on new digs. We all thought things were moving in that direction.
Until last night we wandered into Thom's house to find his brother sitting at a brand-spanking-new computer. If it is possible to smile with that "I've fked you all now" look on your face when you are stoned off your nut, then that's exactly the smarmy smug face he was wearing.
The little c*nt had spent his tax return on a new computer. Not bond. Not a letting fee. Not rent. We all expected him, I suppose, to resist the Move-On Notice, but that is a jot too clever by half.
Now what is going to happen? Someone ELSE can stump-up the funds to help him move out? All the while he gets a new computer to play with. More likely he will get to stay exactly where he is. Which is, of course, exactly what he wants.
I have gone to great lengths in the past to keep out of Thom's family politics. It's not my business. I have enough of my own. But to be honest, this is really impacting on our relationship and I am ready to come out swinging.
Why are there two sets of rules? How can one person so consistently get away with such abhorrent, anti-social, rude and disrespectful behaviour? How can someone who can be such a machine at work come home to be ridden rough-shod over by her own son?
I've never said anything like this before. But I hate Thom's brother. Actual violent hate. I would not p*ss on him if he was on fire. I would look deeply into his eyes and make sure the little fker knew exactly how much I hated him while he burned.
And while he burns, I'll simply say to him "Get used to it, you ARE going to hell".
(If that sounds familiar, it echoes his comments to Thom and I after his friends were out the front of the house at 3am threatening to beat the sh*t out of us because, amongst other things, we are gay, and he told us "Get used to it, you are gay").
He is evil, calculating, manipulative and totally gutless.
I hate watching the affect he and his behaviour have on Thom. I hate watching the affect they have on Robbie as well. I really, really hate it.
Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do. It's not my house and they aren't my choices. He's not my son or brother.
But Thom IS mine (not in an actual ownership sense, you understand. I mean I don't hold any title-deeds) and there is something I can do about THAT.
So he's moved out. To my place. Where life is safe and normal.
Or as normal as life can be for anyone in Batswater.

Here me is doing the laughy thing

Occasionally, as you know, I try to make people laugh.
Here is a picture a kind chap called Ben's mum took on Thursday night... forwarded to me by a kind chap called Dan.

If you're wondering what that thing in my ear is, it's my sexy bluetooth (I do a few gags about bluetooth). And the t-shirt says "I heart Alannah"... and is a convenient segue into my hilarious new material about WA's Planning Minister.

PS, someone could have told me my nose was so big. I know I'm (in the words of Mike Skinner [aka The Streets] "45th Generation Roman" Briton, but that nose is a little... cruelly proportioned).

Pottering around

I've not been into Pottermania at all.
I have made an effort to go to all the movies and I quite like the franchise and the fantasy, but I haven't bothered to sit down and read the books.
On the weekend we saw the latest film.
It was so functional. A bridge between two stories. It was somehow not a complete piece.
Don't get me wrong, I liked it, but it didn't seem to carry the full weight of the book. It required enormous leaps of faith which I expect were explained in JK Rowling's original text.
So, I've finally done it. I've gone out an bought a copy of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
Thom says it is by far the most arduous of the series, but I simply MUST know the stuff that has been missed. He, who has read the books, mentioned underground newspapers and all-sorts of exciting stuff.
Typical me to get on board with something like this so exceptionally late... just as the last book is about to be released.

Overture, curtains, lights...

So last night was the Green Faces Comedy Competition at the Hyde Park Hotel. I didn't win. But that's cool. It wasn't about that, it was about performing in front of a big crowd. And it was. I'm a bad estimator, but I suppose it was about 300 strong... including the Mayor of Melville. LOL. (Pretty certain there is a vote I didn't get).
I wasn't so sure at the time, but on relfection I think my material went down really really well. I'm happy with how it went and the reactions I got from the audience. And the Alannah MacTiernan material went down a treat, which I was thrilled with because it had been received with stony silence at The Brass Monkey the night before.
I have another gig at the Brass this coming Wednesday, but I'm sensing it may not be the place to try out new material. I might try and combine the two sets that I have and treat the audience with something decently long.
Before I sign off, THANK YOU to my wonderful friends who came along and then stayed right to the end in order to watch my set and support me. I was surprised and delighted by the number of people, and the particular people, who turned up.
It made me feel like a winner, even if I didn't get the popular vote.
Mwah x

Country music lovers, unite!

I've found a fantastic list of BRILLIANT and REAL country music song titles on a website. I was inspired to post them by Midland casual reporter Bart McGann's "Top Five Of The Week" subject matter... country songs.
So here they are:

1. Get Your Biscuits In The Oven And Your Buns In Bed
2. Get Your Tongue Otta My Mouth 'Cause I'm Kissing You Goodbye
3. Her Teeth Was Stained, But Her Heart Was Pure
4. How Can I Miss You If You Won't Go Away?
5. Can't Get Over You, So Why Don't You Get Under Me?
6. Don't Know Whether To Kill Myself Or Go Bowling
7. Got In At 2 With a 10, And Woke Up At 10 With a 2.
8. Hate Every Bone In Your Body Except For Mine
9. Just Bought A Car From A Guy That Stole My Girl, But The Car Don't Run, So I Figure We Got An Even Deal

10. Keep Forgettin' I Forgot About You
11. Liked You Better Before I Knew You So Well
12. Still Miss You Baby, But My Aim's Gettin' Better
13. Wouldn't Take Her To A Dog Fight, Cause I'm Afraid She'd Win
14. I'll Marry You Tomorrow But Let's Honeymoon Tonite

15. I'm So miserable Without You, It's Like Having You Here
16. I've Got Tears in My Ears From Lying On My Back While I Cry Over You
17. If I Can't Be Number One In Your Life, Then Number Two On You
18. If I Had Shot You When I Wanted To, I'd Be Out By Now
19. Mama Get A Hammer (There's A Fly On Papa's Head)
20. My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink, And I Don't Love Jesus
21. My Wife Ran Off With My Best Friend, and I Sure Do Miss Him
22. Please Bypass this Heart
23. She Got The Ring and I Got The Finger
24. You're the Reason Our Kids Are So Ugly

Fundamental mistake

So last night's random comedy effort: The audience laughed just enough that I didn't feel like I died, but not enough so that I feel confident about my material going into tonight's competition. Sure there were only about 50 people in the audience and tonight there will probably be about 300, but it didn't fill me with confidence.
Also learned a great lesson about not opening with new material. I didn't really know not to do that because, frankly, everything I do is new. My Alannah MacTiernan material didn't seem to even crack a smile. Not the bit I thought would, at any rate. When I desperately descended into a bit of ad-libbing about her knowing where the best booze in Perth is, that got a laugh. Who knew?
I skipped through a lot of my material, missing a few gags on the way. The way I structure a set, gags include enough information to set-up the next gag, thereby saving time. And I fluffed so much stuff that I'm not sure I gave enough information to give each joke it's full impact.
I was nervous. Too nervous. And under-rehearsed. I don't have a lot of time to rehearse before tonight's gig, but I will be getting as much practice in as I can before tonight's gig.
And I won't be opening with the Alannah material!
Hope to see you all there. I need all the support I can get.

Whoops. I accidentally have a gig tomorrow night

Er, if anyone can't make it to the three other gigs I mentioned below, I have accidentally got myself booked for tomorrow night at the Brass Monkey (The Laugh Resort).
It's actually good because it'll allow me to test my re-worked "bluetooth" set before the competition on Thursday.
It's a 10 comedians for $10 night, so it's cheap and diverse. I think it usually kicks off at 8pm.

Exit interview

I just tried to give my exit interview.
I was explaining to the woman how arbitrarily moving journalists between branches had led to quite a few very good journalists leaving the company.
I suggested perhaps the best option would be to advertise vacancies to reporters and see if anyone wanted the gig, rather than annointing a reshuffle involving six people each time.
Now how would you expect a Human Resources professional to respond? Frankly, all I expected was for her to take notes, which will be filed and ignored.
But no, she told me to "get real" and said "this is the real world" and "I've been at News Limited for 15 years and I can tell you, this is how things are".
I was aghast. Offended. Insulted. All I did was suggest a problem which needed addressing in order to stop the company bleeding good staff. I even offered a solution.
Which just confirms to me that NOTHING is ever going to change at this company because that kind of attitude exists.
I am thoroughly disappointed.

Cracking the comedy thing

I haven't made nearly enough of this. I really kinda "burst onto the comedy scene" at Raw Comedy this year and since then I've done half a dozen gigs and withered out with a fizzle.
But with three gigs coming up, and with the constant and unflagging support of the amazingly cohesive, generous and supportive Perth comedy crowd, I'm about to get back on the horse.
The first of the three gigs I have booked is this Thursday and a lot of people have said they're coming, which I'm very excited about.
I have decided which set of material I'm going to do and I've just got to rehearse it a bit and tidy up my delivery. I might even rework it a little.
Oh, and I've chosen entrance music. I've never done that before. But I have one of the happiest songs of all time to bust onto stage with. I'm quite excited.
Thursday is a competition, but really I haven't entered it to win it, I've entered it because competitions offer a rare chance to perform in front of a really large audience. (As in, 300 instead of 30). The roar of a crowd that large laughing back at you is awesome. I cannot wait!

Census for July

Reading: Seriously considering the Harry Potter option.
Watching: Torchwood, Dr Who.
Listening: Gotye. When Thom actually burns me the CD.
Downloading: Nothing, yet. But we're about to get broadband. So watch-out!
Website du jour: The West Online.
Café: Had breakfast at Mia in Inglewood yesterday. Not really anything to write home about. Company was very good though.
Pub: Scotto. Comedy is coming to the Scotto! Don't forget.
Club: Certainly not fucking hateful fucking Amplifier with all its death-eating emo-scum inhabitants of doom.
Eating: Chocolate icecream. The expensive stuff with real choc pieces and cherry sauce.
Drinking: Sustagen Sport. In skim milk, to try and curb the belly.
Wearing: New jeans. New undies. And in two weeks time... one of two exceedingly expensive new suits to work every day!
Last show: Don't remember actually.
Next show: Green Faces Comedy at the Hyde Park Hotel.
Can’t wait ‘til: My two weeks notice I have left is over and I can start my new job.
Most recent scoop: Big developer trying to turn my old home town into suburbs.
Most recent purchase: A new frock. For Lindsay. It was a birthday present.
Want but can’t afford: Can't think of anything.
Need but can’t afford: Give it a few days and I'm buying bloody EVERYTHING I want!
Last nice act: Treated a birthday girl yesterday. Offered a good friend all my money if it would enable her in her bid for freedom. LOL.
Last bad act: See entry below.
Bad news: Emos live.
Good news: There has been movement on the move-out-of-home scenario for someone.
Goal: Still to be buff for summer.
Yesterday I: Spoiled Lindsay. Then went to her party.
Right now I should be: Keeping Thom company. He's in the kitchen cooking dinner. I feel bad.
Later today I’m: Doing my favourite thing in the world. I'm crawling up under a doona to eat comfort food and watch completely craptacular movies with my beautiful beautiful wonderful boy.

Trust your gut

I did something I really didn't want to do today. Something my heart really wasn't in, but which I did because I thought it was probably the right/big thing to do.
I saw my ex-boyfriend Adam.
He's in town from Sydney for a short space of time to visit his family. The other day he very kindly returned my childhood photo album to me because he discovered it amongst some of his things. That was a kind thing for him to do and I thanked him. He asked me for coffee and although I didn't want to, I thought it impolite to refuse, given the nature of his gesture.
Mistakenly, I thought the coffee might also be a gesture of good will and putting the past behind us.
It was a fairly tense three quarters of an hour and, tired of struggling for conversation, I announced I had to leave. He bid me stay because he had some things he wanted to say to me.
And he berrated me for how I treated him in the lead-up to his leaving Perth for Sydney: Told me how much
I had hurt him.
I don't know if I looked as unphased and unsympathetic as I was. I just totally couldn't give a shit. I thought it impolitic to say so. I mean he had called me on a few occasions in hysterical desperate wails, wanting me to put him first. Something I didn't want to do. Something I had done for three years but by the time Christmas came last year it had been 12 months since I'd had to put him first. I didn't want to yield to his will and be even slightly controlled by him again. He said horrible things at the time and I'm afraid I didn't care and was nasty back.
But my behaviour hurt him. And he was now taking the opportunity to tell me so.
Well I don't really need enemies, so I apologised... albeit reluctantly and half-heartedly. But he went on and on and all I could think was, "wow, you really don't get just how much you and your shit isn't a part of my life any more... grow up, get over it, and go away".
It reminded me in no-uncertain terms why we are not together, should never have been together, and how damaging that three years with him was to me and my self-esteem.
My life is so different now. So much better.
I think I was supposed to be jealous of how his life is but I didn't even feel the slightest twinge of that. Which he probably picked-up on and which probably lead to him having a go at me about ancient history. The old ways of getting a rise out of me didn't work, so he tried harder.
Well, off you go you sad little man. Go live your live and leave me to mine. I don't need to be enemies with you, but I don't want to be friends with you either. Don't even want to be nodding acquaintances, frankly.

Giggity giggity

So I have a few gigs coming up.
If you want to come see some great comedy, then get along to:

Green Faces Competition, The Hyde Park Hotel, North Perth, Thursday July 12, 8pm.
The Laugh Resort, Brass Monkey Hotel, Northbridge, Wednesday July 18, 8pm.
Kilty Pleasures, *NEW COMEDY NIGHT*, Flying Scotsman, Sunday August 12, 7.30pm.

Hopefully by Kilty Pleasures I'll have some new material ready to go. This promises to be an awesome regular Sunday afternoon feast. And for just $5 it is incredible value. Should hopefully be a nice Scotto atmosphere. This is OUR pub people. Let's make this work! I'm so excited I could pee.

Not that I'm into that sort of thing.

Gidgegannup: Planning Wars

So my sleepy back-water hometown is about to explode.
When I was growing up there Gidgegannup was a massively expansive locality with a tiny population. Probably a few thousand people spread over a suburb with boundaries roughly as big as a cattle station.
By the time I left in 1999, a lot of our neighbours farms had been cut-up into five acre blocks and the good doctors and lawyers of this world were buying blocks out there and building weekenders.
The mood and feel of the place had already changed irreparably by the time I left.
Now, yesterday, a company called Port Bouvard Limited (Yes, you guessed it, they have a bit of a history of turning nice peaceful outlying areas into inner-looking wedding-cake-house bespeckled developments) has announced a $110million redevelopment of Gidgegannup... including residential lots.
Gidgegannup rather famously has only a few (I think there are maybe five) residential lots. It's about to have farm-loads of them.
For me, it is a little sad. Not incredibly sad, as my connection with the place is lost and I don't get pangs for it in the least. I'm also not an essentially anti-development person.
But I'm a little sad because Gidgegannup was unique. And a lot of people lived there for a long time enjoying that unique environment. But not any more. If this development goes ahead, Gidgegannup will be just like Darlington or Glen Forrest or Kalamunda.
It will be Ellenbrook at Altitude.
I'm glad I got to live there while it was something special. I'm glad I don't live there now or I'd be forced to stand in front of bulldozers and print fliers and ring newspapers.
But, from my present distance, I'm not actually convinced it will be a bad thing for the town. They'll need to expand the school. It will bring scheme water and deep sewerage to the area (Good luck, by the way, digging through the rock gentleman. It is not going to be as easy as you think. Those hills ain't made of sand). Ultimately, it will lead to the town attracting much more attention and funds from the local council than it currently does.
But that true village-style community I grew up in: that is dead. It was already dying, but this will kill it dead. I used to know everyone in that town. And everyone knew our family. Those days are gone. Hopefully the pioneering families of Gidgegannup with be remembered. That's about all I'd ask.
In the interim, all I can really do is quietly close my eyes and whisper 'Goodbye Gidgegannup'.

An A4 leaf of lined writing paper

I have taken the day off because I'm feeling ill, I have a heap of time in lieu to get rid of before I finish my notice period and I have a heap of paperwork to sort through thanks to selling the flat and it being tax time.
To achieve the last bit I have been armed with an enormous list of documents I need by my accountant. She is a wonderful woman - a family friend. I used to live with her daughters in Albany, both of whom have now made her a grandmother.
Anyway, while filter through a box of oddments and papers I came across a piece of thin A4 lined writing paper, covered in my chook-scratch scribble.
It is simply entitled "MUST" and the second I saw it, I knew what it was.
It was a list. My list. Lindsay and I both wrote a list at the beginning of last year with the details of what our future boyfriends would be like. They were to be positive lists. We weren't going to settle for the kinds of relationships we had in the past.
To be sure, I wasn't going to end up with someone ever again who would utter a sentence like "well I never actually found you physically attractive". Or anyone who was generally psychologically unstable.
So anyway, this is my list of qualities I required in a new boyfriend, and I want you to tell me if it sounds like anyone.

MUST:
Be very good looking (dark hair, average height, brown eyes, slim)
Professional and ambitious, has his shit sorted, smart
Sense of humour
Confident, not arrogant or egotistical
Empathetic, not pathetic
Out to family
Great friends and supportive family
Not jealous
Has the spirit of life
MATURE
Loving, affectionate and supportive,
Must like theatre/cinema/nightclubs/pubs and all that kind of stuff
Not queeny/camp/a drag queen
Not a clubber or skanky bar addict
Live nearby, north of river
Arty/literate/well-read
Romantic/thoughtful/attentive
Good conversationalist
HONEST
Pulls his weight

I edited out one bit: I had wanted this person to be over 23 years of age. But then it wouldn't sound so exactly like Thom, now would it?
All in all, I think the list shows I knew what I wanted. Although what I did to deserve it, let alone go out and get it, is beyond me.