You said it would never happen

Well it still might not.....but at least I have my first post up . Readers (the half or one of you still out there), I've commenced a new blog : The Lazy Civil Servant

http://thelazycivilservant.blogspot.com/.

Do have a look. Warm thoughts....C

TALKING UNDER WATER

Victor Charlie Fox Trot Ovah Under Outer Inner Send More Whiskey, Vermouth and Cigs Totty Fox Bravo Ovah?


Greetings from Flood City and in particular The Thoroughly Modern Colin Emergency Centre of Kenmore where I am accepting refugees from my work and their families. I currently have a colleague William and his girlfriend and his parents and his best friend and his cat called Jet. I love Jet. We’re hanging out smoking and drinking martinis. I’m not giving him back.

Will’s house at Figtreepocket went under Wednesday morning. Figtreepocket is just down the road from Kenmore which is located in Brisbane’s inner west. Will’s parents live in Mogill which is further out west and cut off from the rest of Brisbane. We are lucky that my parents’ house is on top of a hill at Kenmore and has a fully stocked bar. We are safe then from rising waters and being thirsty. We do however literally have no yeast left in the city. The last loaf of bread was collected Tuesday afternoon as the whole city went into a 1970s disaster pic hissy fit as everyone purchased 50 loaves of bread each. There was actually a riot at the Kenmore Village Coles New World yesterday as psychotic Kenmorians attempted to put the entire store into their SUVs. The police had to be called in to shut down the store. All ironic really...considering that most of Kenmore is on a hill away from the floods.

The disaster started unfolding when I walked into the office on Tuesday morning at 9.32 and I heard Will explaining to his father on the phone that sandbags require sand. I put down my toasted ham and cheese sanger looked out the window and saw half of the eagle street pier floating down the river. I wondered then if I would have to cancel lunch at the pier that day. This upset me but I coped by drinking my iced coffee. The Senior Manager then announced that the BCP Business Plan was being enacted. I thought...how on earth could we think of accounting at a time like this? I finished my iced coffee, rearranged my Epsom files, ignored my manager's phonecalls and read my Vanity Fair. Another colleague then drew my attention to the fact that the BCP Business Plan was indeed an emergency evacuation procedure and that we had to leave. I told her I had to finish my sandwich first.

When I finally left CP1 (my work building) I was confronted by a barrage of people with umbrellas fighting to get on buses, cabs , trains, horses and wayward cows. Anything to get out of Tsunami City. Where was Batman? Where was Spiderman? Where was someone in something tight to save us? No one but there was my father in the University of Queensland Mail Van to save me. Pushing his way through the chaos, Dad picked me up along with my mother all seated snuggled in the only seat...the front bench seat. Together we looked like the Kenmore Hillbillies.

It took us two hours to get home to Kenmore (the same distanc e to Dulwich Hill from Sydney CBD) and half of that driving next to a Brisbane River which was rising quickly. And it kept raining and raining and raining. And all through the night. Will brought over his three cars to put in our front yard. He said he was worried they would float away if he kept them at home. I looked at him as if he had a crack habit. Flood figtreepocket? Are you nuts? Calm down Will, I thought.

9 o’clock the next morning Will called panicked saying we needed to take all his food, frozen and in between. Yet again, I had a similar reaction going....what? You're over-reacting. I then drove down to his house to find it resembling a lake. I then realised this was no dress rehearsal. We rescued all we could as quickly as we could, the water encroaching on us minute by minute. The ground was impossible to walk on resembling mud cake unfortunately not smelling like it. Residents looked frightened ...really frightened.

Dad and I drove past suburbs like Chappell Hill, Toowoong, Auchenflower, St Lucia ...all under water and we hadn’t even hit the peak yet. The Jindalee Bridge was almost under water and the Brisbane River was half way up the hill that protected our house. It wouldn’t get any further but that was enough for me.

We’ve been lucky in Kenmore. We have had power all the time and most of that time phone coverage...although today I lost coverage with the 3 network. It’s back tonight. I have so many friends who have not had power since Tuesday and dying phone coverage.

The disaster was harrowing and heart breaking but at least Brisbane had warning. The poor people in Toowoomba and the Lockyer Valley had none and I fear that death toll is going to rise dramatically.

But as I said, at least The Colin Compound has a fully stocked bar and I am whipping up Sweet Manhattans as we speak. So please send more vermouth and whiskey.

Love to all.

Cxx

Baby It's Wet Outside: THE THOROUGHLY MODERN COLIN XMAS MESSAGE

Greetings from Queensland which has recently been renamed Wetland as the monsoons breaking the 100 year drought continue to pour down. I’m sitting here in my clogs sipping on mum’s special punch contemplating the year that was and wondering where I put those plans for an ark. Upstairs I can hear my mother reading Xmas cards to my father and brother from people they haven’t seen since the fall of the Berlin Wall whilst supervising my father and his apparent inability to make ham sandwiches. Soon we will be putting on our raincoats and jumping on boats to go to my cousins’ place in Caboolture for Xmas lunch. A Very Caboolture Xmas.....ah the serenity.

So here we are

Yet again.

Another Year.


Even Mike Leigh (of Secrets and Lies and Happy Go Lucky fame) has made a film about this process aptly titled Another Year, the title itself evoking a resignation of a slow plummet to the end, rather than a celebration.

Twenty Ten officially marked my move into the 'do you remember when?' phaze of life which from what I've observed of my parents and their parents before them, will last until I actually can't remember anything at all. The process involves continual exchanges with people you haven't seen since the advent of social networking reminiscing about a particular event, fashion item, band, movie or song. Did I really wear that? Who sang that? Remember that club? Remember that weekend? Who are you? I now find myself continually claiming to be around the first time for just about the first version of anything. As a kid it infuriated me that every song I adored my mother would say, " I remember when that first came out. ' 'That's an old song.' 'Everything old is new again.' 'Oh Little Eva's version was much better.' I was miffed for weeks when I realised that Little Eva did the Locomotion before La Minogue. Now I find myself doing the same thing.At Splendour in the Grass (festival) in July I corrected a girl for saying that the band Passion Pitt had written the song, Dreams, which they had just performed on the main stage. Myself and the flock of Triple J fearing lesbians I was attending the festival with, launched on said Gen Y girl in a governess style fashion and attempted to put her right .

We failed.

Me: "Passion Pitt did not write that song'
Y: 'Who did?'
Me: 'The Cranberries.'
Y : 'Who are they?'
Lesbians gasped
Me: 'Dolores O'Riordan'
Y: 'Never heard of her.'
Lesbians attempted lynch.
Me:'Oh my god she was huge.'

I found myself gesticulating as if on fire in attempt to indicate the 'hugeness' of Dolores and her Cranberries while the girl looked at me as if I belonged in one of Bert Newton's 20 to 1 specials. I then knew how my mother felt when I asked if Petula Clarke was a brand of jam.

In February, I returned to Brisbane after being away 9 years. 8 1/2 of those years in Sydney and roughly the remaining half in London. After not being able to find work in London, I decided to spend money like I had tonnes of it and travel through Europe and the States and come home broke to my parents. Which is exactly where one expects to be at the age of 35.

I actually quite like it. Living at home is like living in a serviced apartment. Mum and Dad do everything for me. My laundry, my cooking, my cleaning ....my bills. They drive me to work. They drive me to parties. They pick me up from parties. They pick me up from work. They even let me ignore them. I listen to my ipod. I surf the net. I watch DVDs. I’ve almost completed reading the entire Twilight series and by the end of next week I fully expect to be a 14 year old girl.

Mum and Dad live in the suburb of Kenmore where I am the only resident who cannot access his superannuation. They live in a run down Spanish Hacienda House which apparently was built by Miss Australia 1971....although not literally I believe. Am told she had some help. We found her sash near the hot water system when Mum and Dad first moved in 12 years ago along with a box of old pennys; perhaps she was trying to create a time capsule. Anyway as you walk through the Spanish Revival (what does that mean?) front door of Mum and Dad's, you are confronted by a six foot portrait of Jesus Christ. So think Majorca on the outside, Bethlehem on the inside. My mother has so many religious ornaments in the house that I am constantly in fear of being nailed to something. Everywhere I look there is a painting of Jesus looking sad. Why didn't that guy ever smile?

Mum and Dad don’t like renovations. The kitchen is one of those asbestos installed kitchens which can only be removed by astronauts. The pool is the same. It's one of those fibreglass pools from the 80s which look like they were installed by Barbie. Except ours now looks like it was installed by Baghdad Barbie. Mum and Dad don't understand mood lighting. There are fluorescent lights everywhere in the house. A lamp to them is the beta video of lighting.Why have warm subtle lighting when you can light your house like a solarium? I have received so much fluorescent light since I moved back that I am about to change race. Dad keeps my brother’s broken down corolla in the front yard to keep away burglars. It also keeps away capital gains. Mum and Dad are excited though. We have new neighbours. They're young, have two kids, two dogs and an international porn distribution business. I found this out when I questioned ’Ron’ as to why there were 400 dildos in his front yard. Dad thought they were garden gnomes. Mum is still upset that they didn't come to xmas drinks.

I started back at work in my old job but in my work’s Brisbane office. They are a great team but drink a little and generally are loud all the time forcing me not to work at all. I spend most of my lunch hours being confronted by declarations of ‘Oh my god it’s John Cahill’, ‘John Cahill it’s been a long time.’, ‘John Cahill you haven’t changed at all.’ from people I’ve never seen before in my life but claim to have gone to school and/or university or a darkened alley with me. It appears that everyone has come back to Brisbane to have babies
or a good lie down and generally both. I love Brisbane. I’ve missed its storms, its smiles and its inability to merge. Brisbane drivers are still not familiar with the concept. And catching a cab on a Saturday night is still like waiting for Whitney Houston to arrive. To think that the last time I lived in Brisbane, I wanted to rule the world, now I just want a cab.

This year I also commenced my Masters of Creative Writing at Queensland University of Technology which has been great. I've been surrounded by people who were born after the release date of Pretty Woman in 1990; Post Pretty Womans I like to call them or PPWs. PPWs are actually quite fun and once you get them away from their iphones and angst, they actually talk. I've made some great friends although sometimes I fear I maybe turning into that annoying mature age student I remember from my uni days who had a sweating problem and still smoked ....and lived with his mother. All this aside, I’ve been having a great time doing the course with a chapter of my book being selected by the Brisbane Writers’ Festival for a meeting with publishers from the UK. They had lovely scones.

I’ve also started doing stand up comedy. Yes.....I’m having a mid-life crisis, come sit next to me. I started in October making my debut at the Paddo Tavern Sit Down Comedy Club in Brisbane after completing a six week course. It’s more terrifying than a Whitney Houston concert and you often find yourself performing to about as many people who are left remaining at the end of a Whitney Houston concert. But it’s tonnes fun and I’m enjoying it immensely. Most of the time, I’m the only guy on stage who doesn’t refer to masturbation and/or sex with his pets whilst smoking his bong. I like to think I am refreshing.

I now have to sign off as my mother is screaming at my father for more ham sandwiches and at me to get ready for the journey to Caboolture (where Keith Urban is from...am wondering if I will bump into Nicole at the pokies). To think this time last year I was snowed in at a cute village in Frenchiland with my Mrs Van Trap drinking mulled vodka. Still....it’s nice to be home. Merry Exmus and the best of New Year’s to all.


Mwa

Cx

i LOVE! this

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k7X7sZzSXYs

Stolen Conversations....

4.30pm

At work.

Watching the clock.

Phone Rings.

I pick up.


Me: Hello
Caller: Is that Colin speaking?
Me: Yes
Caller: Is that Colin Modern?
Me: Aha
Caller: It's Carmen Jones
Me: Carmen who?
Caller: You know who I am
Me: Do I?
Caller: Yes you do.
Me: How?
Caller: You wrote to me this time last year regarding the Afrika Central Bank
Me: Oh yes I do remember you. You gave the $200K to the African you met in a bar.
Caller: Yes that's me.
Me: Am gathering you haven't found him.
Caller: No I haven't. I have your letter.
Me: That's nice
Caller: It's not very nice.
Me: How so?
Caller: You should be investigating this matter.
Me: As I explained to you when I met with you, your complaint is a matter of Fraud and as such you should report it to the police.
Caller: You did not meet with me
Me: Yes I did; with my colleague Sharon.
Caller: Are the young man who met with me?
Me: Stop it ya big flirt.

C

Old Friends

Old friend: Oh my god....I thought you were dead!
Me: I thought I was too.
Old Friend: Get out. How the fuck are you?
Me: Ya ya.....am good. Back living with the folks at the Thoroughly Modern Compound
Old Friend: How are u coping with Brisbane?
Me: Strangely: Am loving it. London wasn't for me and I don't think I want to go back to Sydney.
Old Friend: What are u doing this weekend?
Me: I can't. I am absolutely flatstrapped. Am doing post grad in Creative Writing at the moment....my mid life crisis.... and I have five thousand things due on Monday; maybe next Friday night?
Old Friend: Oh my god where are u doing that?
Me: QUT
Old Friend: Stuart Jones
Me: Yes....he's one of my tutors.
Old Friend: That's the Stuart I used to talk to you about
Me: Are you serious? That Stuart?
Old Friend: Yes
Me: Oh gosh now I remember.
Old Friend: You did meet him once.
Me: I wondered where I knew him from
Old Friend: I think I took him to your 30th.
Me: He wore a leather overcoat in November.
Old Friend: Yup that's him
Me: How could I forget?
Old Friend: Don't mention my name.
Me: Really?
Old Friend: He kept calling my mother for ages asking for my number.
Me: Well you did kind of end it abruptly.
Old Friend: I met that engineer
Me: He was hot.
Old Friend: I know
Me: What happened to him?
Old Friend: I turned 40.

C

A Very Armagedon Xmas‏

Hello everyone...unfortunately I have been laptopless this last month as my old faithful blew up a week before xmas. And because I am a hopeless shopper, I cannot make up my mind as to which laptop to purchase. So I haven't been writing much...which is driving me nuts. Find below my xmas email to friends all over the place. Am currently sitting in the coldest internet cafe in Britain attempting to type with my iceblock fingers. Never again am I doing winter in the UK! NEVA!


.......Seasons Greetings from the land of transport chaos. Yes one flake of snow and this whole nation falls apart. Airports are turned into refugee camps, train stations into soup kitchens and roads into spaghetti. It's Armageddon The Musical!!!!! Come and bring a bucket of panic!!!!

Ok there has been slightly more than one flake of snow but everyone seems to react with an absolute aghast that this may happen.....that it may snow .....like lots...in this country! As if it has never happened before. The mother country is certainly one hell of an old woman. Ques for instance. This country invented the que when the ration was invented in World War 1 and they literally have not looked back since; never. They will que for anything without protest....for hours. Never question; never investigate; simply stand there turn on their facial screensavers and wait. The number of ques I have seen with people waiting for either something that is broken down or not even in existance is quite harrowing. Any wonder they lost the Empire, they were too busy queing.

Enuff moaning........ update as to life of mwa.

Well I arrived on the 14th of September.

For the first 7 weeks, I stayed with my friend Matt in the town of Reading which is about an hour's north of London. Reading is kinder like the Blue Mountains minus the Mountains and the Blue. A town of quaint cottages, third rate universities and pregnant 13 year olds. Matt's place was right on the river and had a terraced garden leading down to it. Twas lovely although as much as it was Jane Austen out the back, it was more like Trainspotting in the front. There was a pub on the corner formerly run by the IRA and now run as a drug front by the local Nigerian Mafia. Navigating one's way to the train station was often spent negotiating with wired bogans (or chavs as they like to call them here) or Nigerian godfathers dressed like Liberace. Needless to say I spent alot of time in the terraced garden or in London.

The first couple of months was spent doing countless interviews with recruitment officers who promise you everything from sets of steak knives to walking on water and then never call you again. In London they all speak so quickly and jump and down so much, you begin to think you're being interviewed by a human breed of chiwawa. To cope with that, I spent most of my time in one of the five thousand pubs in London and then a few more thousand in Berlin and Paris. I also managed to sit four interviews with the FSA (equivalent of my work in Oz); they managed to reject me four times as well which was awfully generous of them; every time I came into an interview I felt like that nerd who continually comes back to Australian or American Idol and re-auditions and re-auditions and they eventually get him to release a single to make him go away; so am hoping the FSA will offer me a recording contract soon.

Since November I have been working at Camden Borough Council as a lawyer in their child protection team; not ideally what I wanted to do but for the time being, it's a job and it allows me to continue to look around for something better. I always said after my time at DOCS, that I would never do child protection again and I now remember why....I used to always think it was because of the subject matter but it's actually dealing with the nutty social workers which drive you to the edge. Having said that, the group of lawyers I work with are very nice; out of ten lawyers, I'm the only male lawyer....so not much different to MBR!

I am living a ten minute walk away from work having become the Demi Moore of flatmates moving in with a 23 yr old guy in Kings Cross...... mind you I still can't get into work before 9.30. I had my first sitting at my desk "oh my it's snowing" experience last week. Snow is only good for one thing.....sitting in ur office looking at it; nothing else. Suddenly roads turn to slush, footpaths turn into surprise skating rinks and ur boots turn into clogs. Not a great look. And it has a tendancy to shut down airports which can be a bit of a pain when you have booked a weekend escape to Barcelona and can't leave because the airport is iced over. Was not happy last Friday Jan! Still London does xmas really well with Oxford and Regent streets amassed with Xmas lights and decorations. Strangely having grown up with summer xmas's, it seems a bit strange not to be sweating this time of year and looking forward to that storm coming over the horizon.

I was in Berlin the weekend before last and it was seriously "call the f'ing police' cold. -8 with -20 wind chill factor and all these crazy Berlinas out at the xmas markets drinking mald wine and eating their bratwursts. At one stage I thought it was hailing, then I realised it was snow and consequently ordered more bratwurts to put in my shoes to revive my blackened frost bitten tootsies. Berlinas are such lovely people.....almost too lovely.....anywhere we went someone would always talk to us ....it was almost like they were constantly trying to say "Hey...we're not Hitler!...Have a drink!". Which I guess is understandable.

We went to the world's best nightclub called Berghanhauff (am actually making that name up...I can't remember the name...it was huge) located in an abandoned factory in East Berlin. It was so underground, I thought perhaps we were being put in jail. We qued for two hours (yes Berlinas que as well) to get in and the door bitches were trully terrifying throwing people out who didn't have "the look". I wasn't quite sure what "the" look was as it varied from mad max to Julie Andrews on crack. Considering my friend and i were dressed as two yetties wearing our wearing parker dounas, I was concerned we would be cast out into the anti Berhanhauff abyss. But thankfully we were not. We must have been two hot looking yetties. And i must say what an amzing club. 7 different levels; arena after arena with varying music and electic group of people. It was fantastic. Not to mention am crossing the dancefloor and bump into two people from Brisbance. You can take the guy out of Brisbane.....

Anyway peeps, I've babbled enough. Am off to Switzerland for xmas and then driving to the Black Forest....fingers crossed....it's not snowed in so we can fly. Miss you all more than bricks. Have a merry xmas and a super new years. Please keep in touch.

Much Love

Jbxx

PS: laptop blew up on the weekend. have crazy indian dude try to perform some sort of mircale on fried mother board.....I've got to remember not keep the laptop on the bed under a quilt....it kinder stuff things. So am facebookless for the forseeable future. I may die.

Note to Self.....

Don't sleep with the heater at full belt.... I am so groggy today. I feel like a half baked potato....make that a mash potato.

I cannot wait for the weekend and want it to be here now. It's the first of my three minibreaks this month. My friend A and I are going to Berlin this weekend, then I'm off to Barcelona the weekend after and then it is four days in the Black Forest over Xmas.

I really haven't done much travel since I arrived in September except going to Paris a couple of times. The first two months here was spent looking for a job, marrying a bottle of scotch and having a nervous breakdown. I think I underestimated how full on it is moving to another country. And there is the misconception between english speaking cultures that a move between one of these countries won't be that hard because there is no language barrier. Yes we all do speak English but it's a completely different language once you get there.

The first two months, I stayed with an old best friend of mine M; he and I lived together in Sydney many years ago when he was in Australia on a working holiday visa. We've remained close ever since. If it hadn't been for him, I think I would have been back in Australia by now. He offered his spare room rent free until I found a job which was very generous of him. Yes he did live in Reading (west of London) which is kind of like Woollongong without the beach but with the same ratio of pregnant teenagers and bogans ....or chavs as they call them over here. Oscar Wilde was jailed in Reading; Kate Winslet is from Reading and there is the Reading Festival and the television series Beautiful People which is shot in Reading. I kept reminding myself of these highlights every time I commenced the two hour late train journey home from a boozey night out in Soho and for the first two months of unemployment and a smithereened heart, that was nearly every night. Not to mention that an off peak return train fare was £20; peak is £34......it is cheaper flying to Madrid.

All that aside, it was lovely to stay with M. His houses backs on to the River at Reading with a lovely terraced garden. Catching the dying days of Summer sipping cheap aussie wines (there are more here than are in Oz) was a nice distraction to the turmoil in all directions that I was experiencing. It's nice now though to be right in the middle of it all in Kings Cross. The flat is the first place I looked at; it was renovated and clean and had a dish washer, dryer/washer and a fan forced oven which seems to be a rare combination in London town. And my flattie seems relatively sane albeit 12 years my junior. The best part is that I'm a ten minute walk from work, twenty minutes from Soho and West End and 25 minute walk to the cool stuff of Shoreditch and Brick Lane. Life is harder here than in Oz; I've basically gone back to living like my university days; no car; walking everywhere and buying homebrand! Not to mention I haven't flatshared with a stranger in nearly 15 years. But then again I didn't move here for it to be like home!

FAUXBOOK

Brilliant article on friendships in the 21st Century: hit the FAUXBOOK title to link to the article. Poor yaself a cup of heroine before you read.....

C

More Issues Than French Vogue

So have been a slacker again.

To be honest, I read my last post a couple of days after I wrote it and was totally embarassed. Why I choose my return to blogworld following a bottle of wine and a heart that has had an argument with a few kitchen appliances is beyond me. But once I hit that publish button, the deal was done and since then I haven't been able to work out how I wanted to follow the last post. So found myself in eternal writer's "how do I write the next part?" limbo. And the fact of the matter is I don't want to go into it in depth. In short, we didn't work out. It's been shit but I'm feeling better. Generally we both had issues but I concede I had a lot more than him. It was the wrong time for me; too much change happening in my life and too much upheaval on all fronts to let us run smoothly. He's the first person I've ever fallen for completely and trully which is actually a great thing because before him, I really did think I was autistic! Sadly it was just the wrong time for me. Sometimes when things you've longed for eons finally arrive, you actually doubt their reality. And that was me. I couldn't believe he was for real. I was determined to make him my too good to be true....and in the end I succeeded. C'est la vie.

So yah that's it. There's been lots of walks and wonderings through London, Paris......Reading.. these last few months; all wonderfully melodramatic. And every pop song from good to woeful suddenly takes on shakespearean importance once the heartbreak kicks in. Matchbox 20 are poets; Roxette were geniuses and Kylie was on to something in preferring the devil she knew. Ms Lennox.....Love is a stranger in an open car....and don't let me get started on anything written by Everything But the Girl. And then there's Mr Ben Harper.....ah....my therapist these past few months.

But enuff.....no more talk of this.

So now I find myself living proper in London: Kings Cross to be precise. Am working as a government lawyer; my flat is a ten minute walk from work and I am sharing with a 23 yr old university graduate. Yes I've become the Demi Moore of flatmates. Although I think I'm more Mrs Robinson......she at least drank, chain smoked and had a facial expression.

I'm still majorly finding my way here. I am firmly back to square one. It's scarey but I'm excited. As Yazz once wailed.....The only way is up!

C

Minding The Gap.....

Well it's been quite some time since I've blogged on TMC. I ended it in February then came back briefly in April then let it go again. I actually set up a new blog but then didn't touch it. Lately I've been having the urge to write again. I keep wanting to get started on that ever illusive novel but then the giganticism (...put that in ya dictionary) of such a project has seemed too much and I've turned to another bottle of wine and gone to bed. I've never been one for determination. The day that ambition was being handed out, I was at the pub. So an update in the world of Colin.....

Well 2009 has been quite a year. I've experienced the highest of highs and taken a roadtrip through rockbottom....they've got lots of cheap drinks down there. The best way to cover the last 7 mths is via a checklist.....

1. Feb/March: Frenchi comes for two weeks. We have the most amazing time. I fall completely and deeply in love. I've never been to this place before. It is trully wonderful. He's the bloke I've been looking for all my life. I don't want him to leave. We both cry at the airport. I think I'm going to be alright but as soon as I lose sight of him, I'm terrified. Is this too good to be true?

2. April : split my calf muscle in half whilst training at bootcamp. That was fun. I was told I was going to be on crutches for two months. I threw the crutches away ten days later but haven't been able to run properly for anything more than two minutes since which on one hand is superb but not so great for the waist line. My brother came out to my parents which was a great relief but also rather heartwrenching. Change is good but it also hurts.

3. May: I finally make the decision to make the move to the UK. I get permission to take a year off my job in Oz and book the flight to the UK in September. I'm excited but questioning everything from what I'm doing to my friendships to my relationships. The long distance love affair with Frenchi starts to take its toll. I'm tired and stressed and want him next to me. My brain can understand but my heart has other ideas....

4. June: Frenchi indicates that he may not be able to make it out to Oz in July as originally planned.I try to be cool about but find it hard to handle. I've never been so in love with someone in my life and my desire to see him is crushing. I suggest coming over for a quick visit in July and he baulks. It's like a truck driving straight through me. He is renovating his house which has taken all his money and he's changing jobs and not sure whether he is doing the right thing. He's stressed and finding everything too much. I'm right there with him. Am shutting up shop and moving my whole life to another country. Am I doing the right thing? Why am I doing it? He's starts to shut off and my heart over-rules my head. We have a huge fight and I have a melt down. I panic....I try to second guess him and call it off.....of course not really wanting to do that but thinking that I'm beating him to the punch. He freaks out. Says he needs time to think. That truck keeps driving and then reversing.

5. July is awful. All I can think about his him. For six months we've talked nearly every day and suddenly he is not there on the other end of the phone. It's like half of me is cut off. He has a month with his family in France. We text but don't talk. I get asked out on a date by a hot guy I meet at the train station. I go on the date. It makes everything worse because hot guy is everything Frenchi ain't. Hot guy asks me home............I can't do it.

6. August. 6 weeks til I leave for the UK. There is so much to organise....my flat, job, job in the uk, savings, friends.....but all I can do is think about him. I go to my cousin's wedding in Brisbane. A is marrying his lifelong partner N. They've been together for 8 years. They met in London. N has moved his life to Brisbane to be with A. A is my only gay cousin. The wedding is beautiful on the beach at Redcliffe with the sun setting. Lots of friends and family I've not seen in a long time. It is also the first time my brother, parents and I are all in the same room together since my bro came out. It's heartfelt but hard. I can feel my parents' pain. I miss Frenchi more. I ring him. We chat for an hour. I feel like I'm home in his voice.It's like what it was in the beginning. We're back on track. I feel relieved but my second voice keeps asking.....is this too good to be true?

7. The end of August. Frenchi and I have fallen back off track again....this time completely. He's becoming more aloof on the phone. I can't work out what's going on. I freak out again and have a crack at him. He says he can't do it anymore. I'm devastated. I leave in two weeks. I ask him just to wait until I get there. He stays silent. Please wait Mr. Still silence. I hope he holds on. He goes to California for two weeks for a wedding. I miss him but I'm too busy to think about it.

8. September. I have a series of going aways culiminating in a big party at the Green Park the week before I leave. It is trully wonderful to realise how many great mates I have. I'm blessed...still terrified though....no job lined up and my heart hanging on a cliff.

9. 14 September. Brisbane International Airport. My parents, bro and I. It's a strange experience because I actually don't cry and nor does my Mum. My mum and I always cry....from spilt milk to The Thorn Birds. Ironically its my father and brother who are crying . I remain as if I'm an extra off Prisoner. I alight the 747 and take a deep breath. What am I doing?

to be continued....

Scenes from a ward....

Dr: "So do you smoke?"

Me: "Only when I'm awake."

C

Cricket Ball Pain

Last night I was at bootcamp....this outdoor exercise group thing I do three times where I pay people to scream at me and call my names all in the pursuit of physical fitness. Anyway so I'm doing this sprint across the soccer field with my fellow bootcampers when I was absolutely convinced that someone threw a cricket ball at my calf. I looked around accusingly. Everyone kept running....I couldn't see any random evil cricket player looking guilty. I then looked down at my calf and saw it swelling. At first I thought I had a cramp. I used to get them a lot when I was younger and it had been ages since I'd had one....I was due. I stretched it out and in the past, usually I could walk within a few minutes. With this I couldn't; in fact over 15 hours later I still can't. I went to St Vincent's and sure enough I have a ripped calf muscle. So now am on crutches; I have to go to get an ultrasound today to see how badly it's ripped and then I guess physio. When I asked the dr how long is the recovery, she said "How long is a piece of string?". Great.

C

Time After Time

Well haven't I been so slack?

I don't know where this last month has gone. Time seems to be speeding out of control of late. I remember my grandfather used to always say that life was like a snowball, the further it got down the hill the faster it went. I think he was right.

The truth of the matter is I've been rather busy; I've started a new position at work which is thankfully challenging my grey matter again as opposed to my last position…which was killing it, not enhancing it.

I spent most of the rest of March in post Frenchi blues. Yes we had a super fantastic time when he was here. I've never quite had a week like it…in fact I think I'm still there. So it was hard to see him go. I never thought I would become one of these ridiculous long distance relationship people but it appears that I have. We're early days yet of course but I have to be honest….am damn well smittened.

Other news is that I had my UK Visa approved. Now before everyone jumps giving me love life advice, this was not applied for in the pursuit of said French citizen; it was applied for long before we even met. And yes only I would choose to move to Britain in the middle of the GFC (god I love an acronym….only two months ago, I thought GFC was a toxic gas) but hey I love a challenge. Strangely I've actually been having interviews with a number of organisations over there looking for lawyers; we lawyers are the professional equivalent of cockroaches….you will never get rid of us, a good bout of GFC just makes us stronger. Still if nothing comes up before the end of August, I intend to take three months off and go give it go anyway…and if nothing happens, I will simply come home with my tail between my legs. I meant to do the UK work thing (it's an aussie tradition) about ten years ago but came to Sydney instead…I want to do it before I am too old. And as for Frenchi, he at the moment is being headhunted by a bank in New York so by the time I get to London town he will be in the big apple; so we'll see. I do concede in the last few weeks I was a little confused as the motive I had for going to the UK; him or me. It's still me….Frenchi is an added complication…a delicious one. But thankfully one does learn with age to control one's giddiness and I realise that nothing is ever a certainty, set in concrete or forever. I'm just enjoying him for now….as much as I can when he is over ten thousand miles away.

So I'm in for quite a ride in the next six months; lots to organise: renting out of apartments, doing the mother of all spring cleans and getting rid of all my junk, telling the parents (it will be like coming out all over again) and saving my arse off….no more benders for me for some time. I'm terrified and not sleeping. Which is good because I've been asleep for a long time. Nothing like a little bit of terror to wake up one's soul. T's good. I finally feel like I'm starting to smell the coffee.

HOORAH!


C

Who Would Have Guessed?

Well the bitch is back.

You really didn't think I'd gone had I? As my friend Betty has always said, there's no better pick me up than to kill yaself and go to your own funeral. I thoroughly recommend it.

I feel better than Whitney in a crackden.......thanks to all your kind comments. Vvvv. nice.

So ya. Am back. But I have some new rules so as to avoid potential past emotional time bombs. From now on tmc will be lighter than a Hollywood lunch; no more Dr Phil Oprah my mother is sleeping with my plant how do I feel about this palava. I am putting my Freud handibook away and pulling out that great dinner party ice-breaker......two dimensionality.

Fasten your seatbelts, it's gonna be a bumpy ride..........

C

RIP tmc

As I mentioned in a previous post, I had been umming and arrrring over whether to rest tmc recently and something happened today that has convinced me that it is now time for Colin to leave the building. tmc has been bordering on more an on-line diary of late....something I never intended it to be. And this has lead to someone quite close to me being hurt......even though it was certainly not my intention to do so.

tmc has been a great experiment and I've loved it for reconnecting me with my love of writing. I'm certainly not going to give up but I think it's a sign to get serious about this craft and tackle something much bigger than a couple of blog entries per week.

Thanks to all of you who read tmc, some of you are my closest mates and some I've never met in my life. Regardless I've always appreciated your words of encouragement.

I never say never though, so you may see me back out there in the blogoshpere at some point but not as Colin......Colin and his blog of thoroughly modern shenanigans is most definitely and completely over.

Thanks for reading!!

C

Open Wide

10.20 am Saturday : in the dentist chair: mouth open like the opera house

Dentist: This tooth is going to require root canal treatment.

John: Oh. Is that the same as a root canal?

Dentist: Yes

John: But you said last time it wasn't a root canal? You said it required a filling.

Dentist: Yes. I was wrong.

John: But you took me through the xray and explained to me how it required a new filling

Dentist: Yes the xray was wrong.

John: I thought you were wrong.

Dentist: Sometimes xrays can be misinterpreted.

John: I thought root canals were supposed to be painful.

Dentist: Normally they are but the nerve in this mollar appears to be dead.

John: When did it die?

Dentist: It's hard to tell.

John: Wouldn't I've known?

Dentist: What do you mean?

John: Well surely I would have felt something when it died.

Dentist: Not necessarily. Sometimes nerves just die without pain.

John: Half their luck. So how much will this cost?

Dentist: Well this particular root canal is quite complex; I would have to refer you to a specialist.

John: Is that because the nerve is dead?

Dentist: The root canal has gone all the way to the bone.

John: Well isn't that what a root canal is?

Dentist: Yes essentially. But this is a complex root canal.

John: I can see that. How much?

Dentist: Because it will be done by a specialist, most likely $2500 for the root canal treatment then $1500 for the crown.

John: And I've already spent a $1000 on the original filling treatment which cracked in the first six months.

Dentist: Yes

John: This will be a $5000 tooth.

Dentist: Yes

John: What's the point of saving it?

Dentist: As your dentist I have to urge you to save every tooth but...

John: Every tooth is sacred is that what you're saying.

Dentist: Yes.....there is however only a 60% chance of saving the tooth through the root canal treatment.

John: So I will be spending $5000 on a tooth that has essentially lost it's mind, can't feel anything and has a 40% chance of not surviving anyway.....

Dentist: Yes

John: Would you spend five grand on a holiday where you've got a 40% chance of being killed?

Dentist: No

John: Exactly. When can I have it extracted?

Dentist: Next Saturday?

John: Lock it in.

C

Hip Hip.....

Judith Lucy on the film Australia :

It shouldn't have been called Australia, it should have been called Oh For Fuck's Sake!

Hoorah!

C

ASH SATURDAY

No doubt everyone (in Australia at least) has been glued with horror to their television screens watching the nightmare that has been unravelling in Victoria over the weekend. I still remember as a little kid watching the same nightmare over 25 years ago in the Ash Wednesday fires where 76 people died and over 3000 homes were destroyed. This time sadly the fire has claimed more lives and less houses (770). So far 181 lives have been lost with expectations that the death toll will exceed 300......Australia's worst peacetime disaster. I have been caught in a bush fire before. They are terrifying beasts to witness. They move fast, destroying everything and everyone in their path as quickly as they suck all the oxygen out of the air. Their roar is equally as terrifying. It is hoped that those who died had asphyxiated before the fire took them.

The last two days in Sydney it's been wet and cold and in North Queensland it's flooding. Victoria continues to burn.

What a country.

C

Red Cross is accepting donations for the disaster.....http://www.redcross.org.au/ ......please donate.

Plasma Economics

So giving 8.1 million Australians who earn under $100k a year cash handouts totalling $12.4 billion dollars is going to keep us out of recession? We've since found out that the $10.2 billion K.Rudd gave out in December in cash bonuses to families and pensioners went straight onto credit cards or down poker machines and did nothing to stimulate the economy.Why is this going to be any different? Plasma screens for all? I totally support government funds stored and borrowed being poured into infrastructure and education. This creates jobs and provides for the future but to throw $12.4 billion out the window and say "go treat yaselves kids" when the severe consequences of this huge global financial crisis haven't even hit our shores (our unemployment is still low at 4.4%) is extremely careless. We are going into a recession. No amount of cash bonuses is going to stop it. We rely on China, Japan and Korea who in turn rely on America.....they are all in recession....we're headed their way. The thing that has put this country in good stead in front of countries such as the United Kingdom is that we had savings. We had nearly ten years of budget surpluses ....our last being $21 billion. Ten of that has already been spent; K.Rudd is about to spend the rest and another 35 billion on top of that. Analysts predict that Australia will have a budget deficit of $100 billion by 2010 all in time for the next federal election....not bad going for a first term government.

The Government is wanting to push this current $45 Billion stimulus package through both the houses of parliament by the end of the week without the usual Senate Estimates Hearings that are involved in such a piece of legislation. The Opposition rightly so is opposing the move. This legislation requires far more analysis than just two days. The Government will have to rely on the support of the Greens and the Independent to get the legislation through the Senate.


It's funny how history repeats itself. This scenario is reminding me of another "Great" Labor Prime Minister who entered power at a time of great financial turmoil following 25 years of conservative rule in Australia. He championed human rights particularly those of the Aboriginal people introducing the Racial Discrimination Act and the first land rights legislation in Australia. He also abolished the White Australia Policy and withdrew Australian troops from Vietnam. He also used the nation's credit card like an elastic band plunging the nation into massive debt; a debt that was a fiscal noose around the Australia economy until the commodoties boom of the Howard years thanks mainly to China. K. Rudd's debt will be five times that of his Labor predecessor. His predecessor was also a bright shiney ray of light when he first became Prime Minister winning the 1972 election on the slogan "It's Time" ending a strangelhold the conservatives had on Federal rule in Australia. But in under three years , Mr Whitlam was sacked by the Governor-General of Australia along with the Labor Government in the constitutional controversory which was the Dismissal. I'm not saying that K. Rudd is going to run off to the middle east and get shoddy loans like his predecessor in "the loans affair", but he should take note from the pages of history and not rush huge fiscal committments through parliament without proper analysis. This recession is happening whether we like it or not, our government should consider every serious fiscal decision it makes with the due care and consideration it deserves.....not because it will look good on the 6 o'clock news.

C