Visual Diary

7:30am - Waiting for the Bus

8:30am - the National Gallery of Victoria

9:30am - Resisting chocolate temptation

10:30am - Foyer

11:30am - waiting for files to burn to CD

12:30pm - Looking for lunch inspiration on Flinders Lanfe

1:30pm - Weirdo ceramic figurine in the hallway at work

2:30pm - so desperate for coffee I'm drinking from the filtered pot

3:30pm - every office has a plant like this, no?

4:30pm - the typing pool

5:30pm - heading along Southbank for home

6:30pm - beer and pub food

7:30pm - walking the dog, he's out there somewhere

8:30pm - watching Project Runway with the bitch and Burty

(I haven't done one of these for a while! I recently discovered the iPhone App called Hipstamatic (late to the party, of course) and found inspiration. Hipstamatic offers a whole heap of quirky, retro and aged lens, film and flash effects. For today's visual diary I let the application choose the combination of effects at random so that I never knew what I was going to get. Squeeeee!)

Putting my Revhead on

I'm not really interested in cars, or car racing, but even I have to admit the crash that happened at a rally in Queensland yesterday is pretty frikkin' amazing. Apparently only two people in the crowd received any injuries, and the driver walked away with nothing but whiplash. The heavens were obviously in a good mood.

The View

The Marketing team I'm part of at The Job moved offices on Tuesday. We'll rejoin the other departments in 6 - 12 months when the entire Melbourne office moves into bigger premises. In the meantime, I'm situated in a fancy, serviced office with some great views.

Do you like my dodgy Photoshop work? My desk looks away from Melbourne's centre and out over the city's 'Sports Precinct' and Eastern suburbs. In the foreground is the Arts Centre spire where I've seen many a live show and also worked a casual job behind-the-scenes at art auctions as a student. The spire is a pretty iconic part of Melbourne.

To the right we have the Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG), a mecca for football and cricket nerds everywhere. I've set foot in that place twice in my life, I think. Beside that we have Rod Laver Arena, known around the world for the Australian Open Tennis Tournament. I've seen a few tennis matches there in my time, but most of my Rod Laver memories can be attributed to music - my first ever concert (The Cure), attending Pearl Jam's first ever Australian show where kids started tearing up the seats and storming the stage forcing the show to a halt, and loads of others.

Way out in the background are the Dandenong ranges which make up part of Melbourne's outer suburbs. And to the left is the almost finished AAMI Park, which was meant to be Melbourne Storm's home ground, but who knows what will become of that now the rugby club has been exposed as cheats and is rumoured to be shutting down.

Moving to the right slightly, across the Yarra River, I can also see Melbourne's 'Arts Precinct' and South Eastern suburbs. The Victorian College of the Arts (VCA) is actually where I went to art school.....nearly 10 years ago! It's kind of weird watching all those little ant-sized people hanging about outside the cafeteria and thinking that used to be me. Just behind that is The Melburnian, one of Melbourne's uber expensive apartment complexes which looks out over the Botanical Gardens.

And that reddish looking thing on the far left, that looks like a thin red building, is actually the exhaust for the Burnley Tunnel which runs underneath all of the buildings in this photo, plus the Botanical gardens and links up with various Eastern freeways.

They say we'll get sick of the view after a while, but for now it's providing plenty of eye candy while I sit at my desk willing my brain to come up with dynamic slogans and media campaigns.

Another sign I'm getting old.....

These past few weeks since starting The Job, I've suddenly found myself being asked whether I have children. It's not a question I can ever really remember being asked before. It's not unusual to be asked whether I'm 'seeing someone', but children?? How freaking old and settled do these people think I am?

Even though a majority of the people I work with are roughly my age, most of them are married with young children, so I guess it's kind of logical for them to ask if I've procreated or not. But it's something that makes me feel like I'm not a kid any more. Which I guess I'm not.

I'm a Survivor

Phew! I survived my first fortnight at The Job. Without wanting to jinx the situation, I'm feeling pretty comfortable with the way things are panning out. At least I don't feel like I want to slash my wrists and resign, unlike the last time I was an employee where I knew before the end of my first week that I wasn't going to last longer than a few months. I'm taking that as a good sign.

Of the 22 people in the Melbourne office, the majority are roughly the same age as myself. Even the Vice President (I love how North American companies use titles like that) of the Asia Pacific region would only be in his late thirties or very early forties. In fact, he took me out for lunch yesterday and instead of an intense conversation about the company and my role within it, instead he just wanted to drink beer and get to know me. Who am I to turn down a drink?

And, given that The Job is with a company involved in finance and therefore a very 'blokey' environment, I was relieved to find that one of the guys on my team is.....well, on my team. The thing about starting a new job, or even just meeting new people is the whole 'coming out' thing. It sounds ridiculous, but us homos spend our whole lives 'coming out'. Hmmm, maybe I should start acting all flamboyant and stuff so that there's never any question. Anywho, it's nice to have a sister in the office. He's a nice guy too, I can see us having little gossip sessions about people's shoes and stuff..........

Changing habits

I had lunch with one of my main clients today, it was the finale to my period of self employment. I get along well with the two people at this particular company who I've worked with for the last three years, so lunch was informal and filled with laughs.

Afterward, it really hit home that while I'm excited about going back to work for The Man, it will take time to become accustomed to losing the level of freedom that came with working for myself. For example, email exchanges like the one I had this morning with @rperdio and @trxxxy , and the activities described therein are unlikely to be appropriate in my new workplace:

From: Evol Kween
To: @rperdio
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 8:51:00 AM
Subject: Direct message from evolkween

Hey when is that horror film playing at the French Film Fest? What's it called again?

From: @rperdio
To: Evol Kween
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 10:24 AM
Subject: Re: Direct message from evolkween

You beat me to the punch - I was about to email you about this. It's on next week for the La Mirada Film Fest, Wed 7th 6.30pm, Hierro.

Come? I'll get tix.

From: Evol Kween
To: @rperdio
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 10:15:11 AM
Subject: Re: Direct message from evolkween

Sounds awesome! Where is it showing?

From: @rperdio
To: Evol Kween
Cc: @trxxxy
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 10:24 AM
Subject: Re: Direct message from evolkween

All at ACMI. http://www.lamirada.org.au/

Let me know if there's anyone else coming with. Actually, @trxxxy... interested in this? http://www.lamirada.org.au/films/hierro/

From: @trxxxy
To: @rperdio
Cc: Evol Kween
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 10:28 AM
Subject: Re: Direct message from evolkween

sounds like an interesting film. count me in

From: Evol Kween
To: @trxxxy
Cc: @rperdio
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 10:31 AM
Subject: Re: Direct message from evolkween

It’s a gay girls night out! And I’ll be in a suit because I start my new job next week. Look out!

From: @trxxxy
To: Evol Kween
Cc: @rperdio
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 10:42 AM
Subject: Re: Direct message from evolkween

prostitutes wear suits now??

From: Evol Kween
To: @trxxxy
Cc: @rperdio
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 10:47:38 AM
Subject: Re: Direct message from evolkween

I’m a high-end beatch. CEO cocks only.

From: @rperdio
To: Evol Kween
Cc: @trxxxy
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 10:47:38 AM
Subject: Re: Direct message from evolkween

Done. Evol, don't forget the rouge and the stockings. CEOs love all that kink.


From: @trxxxy
To: Evol Kween
Cc: @rperdio
Sent: Wed, 31 March, 2010 10:47:38 AM
Subject: Re: Direct message from evolkween

i can just see you now spread-eagled over the board room table

Duckfest 2010

There's a groovy little cafe in South Melbourne that goes by the name St Ali. Naturally it's hidden down a lane way, this is Melbourne after all, so it relies on word of mouth rather than foot traffic for business. It has a warehouse facade, DIY tables, exposed brick work and funky lighting. The staff are young, professional and sport fancy haircuts.

St Ali is famous for its coffee, of which they serve varieties from around the world, and when I'm in the area that's the main reason I go there. They have a breakfasty-lunchy menu which is too nontraditional for my tastes, call me uncivilised but I just want old fashioned bacon and eggs.

Getting a table at St Ali can be a nightmare - no matter what time you go there. Roughly a fortnight ago, about 11am on a Wednesday morning I was in the area and decided to visit for one of their scrumptious coffees. I thought I'd find a table easilylate morning on a weekday, but no. Not one table available. I didn't have time to wait, so I reverted to my backup venue, Gas around the corner.

On a whim I posted the following message on Twitter:

I wasn't having a go at St Ali, I mean kudos to them for being busy and popular, but a couple of hours later I got this Tweet in return:

To which I replied:

How's that for making the most of Social Media???? St Ali has recently expanded its hours to include dinner and I guess that Duckfest 2010 was a fun way of getting the word out there. They were kind enough to book a table for Andrew and I, and provide $50 gift voucher towards our meal. We attended Duckfest on Friday night, and what a meal it was! Here's the menu:

Click to enlarge

On arrival were treated to complimentary Pinot Grigio and Peking Duck canapes *Nom Nom Nom* before getting stuck into the degustation. The Duck Consomme was absolutely delicious, as was the San Choi Bow filled with shredded duck. The roasted Duck breast accompanied by poached pear was oh so sweet and tender...........the bottle of New Zealand Pinot Noir we ordered went down a treat as well.

The only course which didn't tickle my fancy was the Duck egg caramel, which was essentially creme caramel but the sweetness was overpowered by the taste of duck fat. Perhaps I'm a creme caramel traditionalist, but that minor stumble in no way detracted from the success of the dinner over all.

Thanks St Ali, we'll be back for dinner and I'll make sure everyone else I know pops in for a meal too!

A Single Man

Wow. I love, love, loved this film. You could print off any frame from this movie and have a beautiful image to frame and adorn your walls. The sets and costumes are amazing, and Colin Firth's performance is heartbreaking.

A Single Man is based on a novel by Chistopher Isherwood. Set in the early 1960s it centres on George (Firth) who is struggling to accept the death of his boyfriend of 16 years, in a car accident. Instead of a stereotypical coming out tale, A Single Man focuses on George's grief and its exacerbation by a time period pre Stonewall, where his long-term relationship has been for the most part a secret.

Despite the sad subject matter, there are moments of hilarity in the film and Tom Ford's direction adds a dreamlike edge which stops things from becoming too serious. It was totally refreshing to see a Queer film dealing with themes other than sex, idealised beauty and coming to terms with one's sexuality.

The sleepy fishing village

I often mention visiting friends in Metung, three and a half hours out of Melbourne. The picture above is of the Bancroft Bay, at the entrance to Metung village. Pretty, huh?

We were down there again this weekend for Geoff's big birthday bash.

A new career in a new town

Well it's not in a new town, but similar to the David Bowie song I do have a new job. Squeee, for me!

I was actually offered the job on the Friday before we left for Hamilton Island. I start on April 6 which has given me four weeks to sort things out with my clients and get some R n' R in before I start. I'll still be doing PR stuff but this job is a little more senior than anything I've done before, and the company is involved in the financial industry which is a new area for me too. It will be challenging but also exciting.

The one minor downside......I have to wear a suit everyday. Urgh. In the past I've been able to wear collared shirts and slacks, occasionally donning the suit for special meetings but I've never
had to do the formal attire thing day in day out. Looks like I'll have to do some shopping before I start.

Anywho, here's to new beginnings!

Another weekend, another beach

We went down to Dromana, on the Mornington Peninsula this weekend and stayed at the Harbour Mistresses beach shack. On Friday afternoon I knicked away from my desk and took Burty out for a wash, because his girlfriend Emelda was going to be staying with us in Dromana and I figured he should clean himself up for her.

Emelda, a little worn out after an intense bottom-sniffing session with Burty.

As you can tell by the following photo, Burty was less than impressed about having all of his favourite smells washed out of his coat.

We did a fat lot of nothing during the weekend - reading in the sun, sipping drinks in the sun, eating, and going out for more food. During one of our excursions for BBQ supplies we stumbled across the most oddly named Mayonnaise any of us had ever heard of.

I mean really, who the hell thought it would be a good idea to put the words Doodle and Mayonnaise together on the one label? The butcher rolled her eyes when she caught me taking that photo, but I'm happy to admit I have a childish sense of humour. It keeps me youthful don't you know.

Late on Sunday morning we had breakfast/brunch at a local haunt known as Two Bouys. They serve up a 'Breakfast Flatbread' which I'd been dreaming about for weeks before getting down to Dromana. It's basically a woodfired pizza covered in egg, bacon, Chorizo sausage and golden syrup. What? Of course it's a healthy meal!


I haven't eaten anything since. Well, maybe some roast beef last night and a chicken satay roll for lunch today. But that's it, I promise.........

And now, less on Jetstar more on Hamilton Island

Would you believe that I received a 'customer satisfaction survey' today from a research company on behalf of Jetstar? Let me tell you, I did not hold back when recounting our awful experience with the airline over the weekend.

But enough of that, when Andrew and I finally arrived in the afternoon Debbie collected us at the airport in the cool little Golf Buggy (mag wheels!) that came with our accommodation. The weather was incredibly hot and muggy, as we expected, but thankfully there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Which was a relief because this is supposed to be wet season in the Whitsundys. We dropped our luggage off, slipped into our swimsuits and hit the beach for some sun.

Debbie to the right, Andrew's foot to the left.

The ocean was a little too warm for our liking (go figure) so we retreated to the Island's main swimming pool.........which has a bar in the centre of it......which wasn't a draw-card or anything. And what do you know, it was happy hour! Cocktails all round!

The Island had a strange mix of visitors. There were plenty of young families, and yes screaming children but also an abundance of Bogans, as we like to call them down under. By the end of the day the pool was filled with blokes loaded up on tinnies hollering at each other and showing off tacky tattoos while scantily clad, big busted girls chain smoked on lounges in the sun.

By the end of the day the pool's bartenders, all female and obviously backpackers, were completely sozzled which was fine when they were doubling the shots in our drinks but annoying when they were go-go dancing on the bar and flirting with all the cheaply tattooed guys. Still, it was nothing that my iPod and a copy of Stephen King's 'Under the Dome' couldn't block out.

Food on the island was expensive and not all that exciting. But unfortunately that's too be expected at these types of destinations. On our last night we splurged on a meal at the Yacht Club which is an amazing piece of architecture on the main shoreline. The structure cleverly reflects wave-like formations and sail-like silhouettes, and is constructed from very natural looking materials.



I had a delicious seafood risotto with cognac butter and sea urchin roe, my most enjoyable meal of the weekend, while Andrew had a disappointingly small chicken dish. All three of us enjoy eating out and are happy to splurge on a fancy meal now and again, but none of us had ever seen a 'main' meal so small - three tiny parcels of chicken and potato rosti. Birds eat more than that.

The buggy and I on Hamilton Island's 'peak'

Sunset from our balcony

Did I mention that a Kookaburra swooped on me one afternoon and snatched a piece of calamari out of my hand during lunch? Scared me witless, and then the cheeky little bugger sat on the edge of the deck above me and ate his loot while watching me. The Americans on the next table thought this as hysterical.

Visual Diary: The Hamilton Island edition....sort of

6:30am - Leaving for the airport

7:30am - in the thick of an unruly, un-organised and very large queue to check in for our flight with Jetstar

Sorry folks, that's as far as I got with the visual diary for our trip up to Hamilton Island. You see we had some issues getting onto our flight.

Jetstar are well known for their slightly ridiculous policy of cutting off check-in 30 minutes prior to a flight's departure. They're also known for canceling flights at the last minute and rescheduling some other random time in the future, but that's a whole 'nother story. On Saturday morning we arrived for our 8:30am flight direct to Hamilton Island at 7:30am. The queues for every other airline's check were nice and orderly, while the Jetstar queue was a throbbing throng of people. A complete debacle.

I was with Andrew and Debbie, and between the three of us we had one piece of luggage to be checked in. None of us had checked in online because we wanted to try and get seats together (Debbie had booked her flight separate to us), however the 'baggage drop only' queues (of which there where four compared to two for check-in) seemed to be moving fairly quickly so Debbie and I went to check in via the Kiosks while Andrew stayed in line with the baggage. Debbie managed to check in, however the Kiosk wouldn't accept my booking reference number. So I asked someone from Jetstar for help but she couldn't get it working either and said I'd just have to queue up. While in line, we noticed that a number of other people were having trouble getting the Kiosks working. The queue got bigger and and edgier.

Debbie took her carry on luggage and went off to find food, meanwhile it became clear that Andrew and I were not going to check in before the cut-off time. Eventually a Jetstar rep asked for everyone going to Hamilton Island to form a separate queue right, smack bang in the middle of the crowd. We joined a group of about 20 people in this line which was totally separate to every one else, in fact we were cordoned off from the passengers in all the lines. It was very obvious that we had been put there for a specific reason.

This queue widdled to down to us, and one other couple in front. Nothing happened for a while, we watched other people checking in. We weren't sure what was happening. The lady who had put us in this queue had disappeared. We noticed a different lady walking alongside the very edge of the entire crowd, calling out for anyone else who might be traveling to Hamilton Island. She didn't glance at us and we assumed she was double checking if anyone else needed to join the queue we had been specifically placed in.

Wrong.

A moment or two later she walked up to the four of us and asked if we were flying to Sydney. No, we said, Hamilton Island.

Her response was blunt, "Too bad, check in for that flight has closed."

She said it in such a bitchy manner, assuming we were in the wrong without even asking what we were doing in a separate line, with no one behind or around us, cordoned off from the rest of the people trying to check in for their flights. The couple in front of us immediately got riled up and took argument with the lady, who refused to listen to what any of us were saying. I got fired up to. She maintained that we shouldn't have left our check-in until five minutes before the cut off time. Of course, none of us had, but she couldn't have cared less.

It seemed the original lady who had put us in this line before going for her tea brake, hadn't communicated why we were in this line to the lady who had taken over for her.

Eventually she took all four of us to a counter, still telling us off for not checking in earlier. The couple in front of us had their tickets already and only needed to drop off their luggage. They got on. However, because Andrew and I hadn't been able to check in via the Kiosk and therefore didn't have tickets Miss Bitchface Jetstar Representative and her Evil Cohort at the check-in counter literally said, yet again, this was our fault for not checking in earlier. I tried to explain that the Kiosk wouldn't accept my reference number but both these tarts REFUSED to listen to me and insisted that I had obviously tried to check in via the Kiosk after the cut-off time. I even found the young Jetstar girl who had helped me at the kiosk, to prove that I had tried to check in at 7:30, but she had the personality of a gnat and did little for our cause.

Meanwhile, Debbie is on the plane, headed for Hamilton Island without us, and we've got steam coming out of our ears. The whole situation was completely ridiculous and Jetstar's refusal to hear our side of the story was just plain rude. Just because Jetstar is the 'cheap' airline, doesn't mean they should treat their customers like turds.

In the end, after dealing with another Jetstar girl who was equally as flipping rude, we had to buy last-minute tickets at an exorbitant price for a Qantas flight up to Brisbane where we could catch Jetstar's only other flight that day to Hamilton Island. And I tell you what, EVERYONE we had contact with at Qantas were 1000 times more polite and professional than the Jetstar staff.

Jetstar, if you have PR minions scouring the Internet to track what people are saying about your brand - and speaking as someone that works in PR I'm sure you do - then I say: FUCK YOU.

Whitney doesn't always have it all

Whitney Houston is currently touring Australia and I just don't understand how the media, and members of the general public can be so surprised that the modern diva's concerts have been somewhat average. Headlines are shouting out things like "Whitney Houston fans will battle for a refund" and "Houston has a problem as Oz tour opens".

To those who paid obscene amounts of money to see Houston perform, I ask you: have you had your head up your butt for the last 15 years? Take this young lass for instance, quoted on News.com.au :

" 'I paid $250 and got a $350 package for the weekend, but I'm a bit concerned about it because I heard in Brisbane she only did a few songs, walked off throughout the show and her voice wasn't that good,' said 20-year-old Jess Morton from North Sydney."

How can people like young Jess be surprised that a woman who recently kicked a ten-year Crack smoking habit wouldn't be able to perform the way she did in her prime? Don't get me wrong, I'm not knocking Whitney, I commend her for getting her life back on track but if I was a fan and I'd forked out to see the show I would be expecting a performance that's rough around the edges. Wouldn't any sane person be expecting that? Perhaps Ms Houston is over extending herself, and perhaps Andrew McManus Productions have been over zealous by asking such ridiculous prices for tickets, but ultimately who are these people that don't use their brains when deciding whether to attend or not?

Rant over.