Care of John's flickr.

Well, Christmas was so well behaved around family , faux christmas trees and botox smiles. However boxing day was fun!

Headed down to Lyns micro-pad in Elizabeth bay right on the water, gorgeous day and fantastic tibetean and korean food by tien-zin fantastic wine, champagne and gorgeous water views and yatch things, anyway the day was so lovely.
Then we had a few drinks and Amy started to unhinge.
We got a lecture on how her husband didn't buy her a birthday present.. wooo that went on for hours , even when i kept filling her glass up, it got to the point when she couldn't even hold the glass, some of us ate roast pork soaked in sauvinon-blanc.
She told us also about a dream she use to have about a dark monster and a client who had a leg cramp and she had leg cramps too and then she passed out!
Amy ended up on lyns sofa oblivious as we had Dusty springfield and Faithless blaring out of the stereo.
We knew it was time to exit.
John and i hopped over to Nicks for some more drinks, i eased up because throwing up is not an option for me anymore, but it was so nice to catch up with Nick and john and drinks and cats and things.
It's still bit of a blur but we ended up in chinatown later eating vietnamese food.

Boxing day photos at flickr.

Boxing Amy.

What on earth has happened to my face?

Maybe it's the stress of dealing with le family who i only see once a year and realise each time how old i am, "i use to babysit you!" **runs away in horror**
I do believe it might have to do with a muscle relaxing cream i've been using which i was quite sceptical of but i like the cherry smelling cream. Ergh, after 6months i realised in photos i have this stoned/tired/fucked-up expression!! even if i move every other part of my face.
I''ve overdosed on muscle relaxing cream!!

My head hurts alot, really alot, how pissed could i look?
So John ever so graciously offered drinks at his house amongst his housemate having sex and trying to sneak back and forth to bathroom. Quite amusing.
We hit Stonewall, god that place i haven;t been back for ten years. Met johns danish gay couple, was interesting, nice people, the Danes. All i could think of was Danish cookies and Queen mary and i don't know.. blonde people. They got alot of attention. We were ignored as usual. Oh wait, john was asked if he was selling pills by some retarded twink and a crazy girl with lacey finger-cut gloves got her glomesh handbag stolen.

Saw Gav and friends, we sat round looking fabulous and drank whilst fat people took off their shirts and danced.
Party drugs make you do silly things.
I hopped over to Pheonix, and omg, it was tragic.
A dozen or so people, a lesbian felt me up (again) and later on some muscle guy was chatting me up, he was kinda nice but short but i wanted to dance, not get laid. So i told him i was straight and it got him even more excited. Anyway he left me alone eventually. I jumped about and flung my head like a cheap bag of chips in a violent fight amongst hungry seagulls.
It was fun, it would have been more fun if it was busy, like before, in the past, in history.
Atleast Pete got to experience the sweatiness of it, i think Gav might have freaked out.
Ah, but he was preoccupied in Gloria Jeans with a very lovely boy who owns backstreet boys cds and speaks with a quiet south african accent.
I have a strange feeling he might be bottom. And you know what that means.

Ouch my head.

I'm about to go out clubbing with john, nick (if i can find him) and friends.

It's strange, i'm feeling very hesitant and just want to call the whole thing off however it is the perfect evening for clubbing as christmas is 2 days away so i can get myself presentable for that then boxing day i got 2 parties to do.
It's been a while, a long while, since early this year but that was with that boy who ran away. So i guess there is a little after effects still there, i feel old and fat and...well... i've lost that nievity that i had about venturing round the scene, to be seen, now i don't care if anyone notices or not, i don't need that validation.
However i thought i could really have a fun time with nick and john and even catch the famous Gav and take him over to pheonix make him experience the "toilets" there.. hahaha.
I'm older, wiser however slower and resigned to what life always is , a passing of human events.
I started to get panic attacks again since monday i guess, i thought they could still be the nicotine withdrawl symptoms but it's oh so familiar. Rocks my confidence and makes me devolute and hide.
But i know if i give in it'll make it harder to do other things later on, more adventurous and complex (such as being on that God damn fundraising committe) so i'm going out tonight not only to catch up with some great people, jump around (do i remember how to dance?) lose some weight hopefully, and lose myself into the world of sexy drum beats and sampled psychedelica but also, to say fuck off to demons of discontent, 2006.

I miss Andrew very much when i think about the crazy-club days we had, dressed up like freaks and taunting the plastic-boys. Laughing at our own misfortune, having a hot pash with some stranger outside his place then climbing up those stairs and into the heated toilet.

Spoke to Prem today at lunch, she's still in a state of shock, she tells me
"i keep thinking he's going to SMS me or call me or enter through the door, it's like a nightmare but it doesn't end"

And then i think, i should live abit more.

Oh, i'm back to full-time starting next week, 2007 is looking busy already and it has yet to begin.

It's been a year already, these times seem to extinguish innocense ever more quickly.

I don't remember what i've done this year, sober? smoked less? met a rugby playing indian, worked abit more, spent less, tried to control fat, spent more time with family, no my grandfather still isn't dead.
From Marilyn manson to Amy winehouse back to Marilyn manson.
2006 was an unfulfilled year, artistically barren and emotionally anorexic with lashings of grunge pretense.
I slept alot.
Wore skinny jeans.
Got praise from a teenage goth boy about my weird shoes.
Became semi-hermit whilst old friends flew away to distant places , their distant faces.....

I don't have nicotine to occupy my mind just thoughts.

Part of my angsty youth withered away and all that is left in its wake are stormclouds of malice.

Oh but ofcourse to level my self loathing when i went into work on tuesday afternoon i was told Prem's new boyfriend she had saved herself for, the boy whom she introduced to everyone that day, holding her handbag with a bunch of roses fell asleep at the wheel of his car on the sunday and crashed into a tree in the middle of the night.
Dead at 24.
I didn't know him, i've even forgotten his name but i remember seeing how happy Prem and he was saturday afternoon.

I've got to try and make 2007 into something more than treading water.

Ah, erm... i ended up at some bar in darlingharbour on a balcony with glass tables along the edge. Well i hope they were glass tables, after a few vodkas i don't know.
We had our christmas staff party at this bizarre french-chain-resteraunt with faux tree trunks and monkeys stabbed through out the place. We had alot to drink , alot of wine and shits and giggles.
I had quail for entree, veal medallion for main and lemon meringe thing for dessert! fantastic!
Then i get an incromprehensive call from Amy my crazy-korean friend about drinks on boxing day.
Oh, i drank so much i felt it this morning which i proceeded to go out looking for new lighting for the house.

My head is still abit of a blur however i'm enjoying my voice which has fallen 4 octaves, don't know how those hollywood startlets do it, partying and still look great.

Everything seems like a haze lately, it's this weather , it's this christmas overload.
I've re-aligned my bedroom (again) and purchased more woven grass baskets to give my space a more polyethnic vibe mixing metals and futuristic plastic with rawness of handwoven baskety things.
I'd really like a dog actually, a pug. . They so cute! and compact! I could take them out in a Hessian "make a difference" bag from oxfam and wear peruvian beanies whilst pug bites off the pompoms!
Oh the possibilities.
But as night follows day carpets of ink and violets the woven basket thingy is sitting on the floor.
Work has been.. the usual... i got a new client from afghanistan! ohhh how exotic!
The ice-maker in our new fridge is working finally so there's nothing quite like having a constant supply of cold-cubes , yay for automated ice!
I hope my new stepper machine arrives tomorrow, i want firm buttocks.
And i got the staff christmas party on saturday oh the times we're going to have, we scored a bottle of our favourite drink each.
The drag-queen got a case of V.B (tres vulger) , miss C got a bottle of Burbon, Madame L. got red wine and i got a bottle of vodka! woot!
We 're going to drink it all saturday night and get terribly raucus relieving ourselves all over darling harbour, most probably throw eggs at Cargo-bar or do a shit on the ice at Ice bar. Fun!

Also, i've been put in a committee of some sort. I don't know what exactly but my boss says it will involve rock music, fund raising and er.. committees.
What do you wear to a committee?
If it was a court-case i'd go all out and go down to the vault and wear my dead grandmothers Tiara! God damn it.

I had a quaint lunch with dear John this afternoon.
We had smoked chicken and cranberry sandwiches and latte and lemon ice tea. We talked about our lives, other peoples lives, the paucity of fashion and he wore a striped Ben sherman polo top which reflected his youth oh so evidently whilst i flickered in the shadows.
He is still knitting his scarf but by the time it is winter i will wear my ultra-thin fox fur tie and we will buzz around fashion like blowflies behind cattle.

(there's no nudity, just social-intercourse).
Here's Francois sagat, some new wave gay-pornstar whose claim to fame is blurring the lines of sexual identity. No wonder straight guys are going all 'pretty' on us and girls doing post-degree studies, where are the straight men? they scream.
It's all so confusing however this interview is a classic.

Anyway i bought a stepper machine and intend to step myself into a firmer booty. So firm i could open beer bottles with it.

Oh, and Francois has tattoed hair. Yes, it's a tattoo on his head.

I'm eating pears heavily coated in custard, i think that's saying something.
Saturday, ergh, spent 5 hrs removing hair from a girls buttocks then on the way home on public transport i was stuck sitting next to a group of teenage boys who wore these hats and dressed in what i would call, new-wave emo where the emphasis is on block colours and asymetry but no angst (cos they all on prozac). They were posing and taking photographs and being loud about the party they went to and a movie that had "sex scenes" . They wore those hats.
I could have mistaken them for mannequins from Myers however these moved and talked, unfortunately.
Bah, maybe i'm just getting old, grumpy and old.. hahaha. I guess i was just as loud a few years back.
We all know what a job does to your free spirit.
So today i went over to Forbes and burton for a solo-lunch, just me and a weeks worth of magazines i want to catch up on.
Am reading, well, looking-at-the-pictures of Vogue italy. It has a celebrity issue and Nicole ritchie is on the cover. She looks so glamourous with that huge head of hers and tiny wrists, tiny wrists! I don't have a clue what's written but i could make out some words. Nice photos though and it came with Casa vogue, Vogue home which had some great retro 60s interiors more nature and stone surfaces than bakelite-kitch. Some great ideas and inspirations there. One of my favourite interiors is one of Bob dylans study room where its just a simple table and chair (cane thatch seat) ceramic vase and flowers with bits of writing paper , solid waxed floor boards but not high gloss and gorgeous ceramic ashtray and cup of coffee. A minimised english cottage scene pushed slightly to the edge.
So chic and simple .
Lunch was turnip and salmon mash on sourdough and two eggs. Quite filling but oh so delicate.
I exclamied "Eventhough i wear fur and leather was the salmon mashed with the turnip?"
Tara - "um, no. The salmon was poached in milk then gently flaked through the turnip and potato mash"
The way she described it was so fabulous i had to taste the milk-poached salmon gently flaked through turnip potato mash.
I also had mango and rasberry swirl in celebration of these 60's haute-interiors i was flipping through. It was really a glass of mangos, so thick! so sticky and mangoey, i had naughty thoughts whilst trying in vain to move mango-flesh inbetween my teeth.
Lunch was fantastic as always, i strolled to Townhall as i am getting hideously fat but cannot stay away from food and i haven't smoked for weeks now.

The glorious summer sun warmed celtic skin strewn across Hyde park, a derranged frenchwoman chasing white cranes and pigeons sailing on the glassy pond infront of the war memorial. Evocative moods amongst fig tree shadows and a mother telling her son to only press the button with his elbows at the traffic lights because he had to eat with his hands later.
A man carrying a tiny maltese dog kissing it's wet nose and the wind that hid behind starbucks wooshed across our faces as we crossed elizabeth street.

I bought a scarf at Oxfam for my mother for christmas, i was tempted to go Gucci but, i think it's time to change, time for meaning in our consumerist hearts besides she already has a Gucci scarf.
Nearly bought the pumpkin-shape tea pot however, i've decided to use what i have, use it till it falls apart then buy. To stop accumilating and start utilising all the tings i have.
The cup above was actually my grandfathers, finding all sorts of things in the bowels of oak laminate cupboards.

I woke up early today so i can run into IKEA and buy a corner desk, assemble it and have lunch at Latteria but when i got to Moore park it was gone! Just gone!
So i came home to a bedroom without a fulfilled corner.
Might have to buy it online.
Anyway manage to get myself out to Latteria and have coffee with John and his new haircut. Looks great! And he was in his usual element kind of modern preppy sports. We hit white picket fence because he was looking for a pair of shorts but i came away with a Dior homme shirt .
I nearly bought the helmut lang black jeans however it looked big on me, despite being size 28. Ventured into Burberry to say hello to Nick, poor thing was dealing with a group of mainlanders but we managed a quick chat then got out of there. Perved about David jones, lots of 'street' clothes with cute boys wandering about.
Ran round Myers as i bitched about fat people on the escolators and then john goes.. "look, on my right" and i look and it's this youngish guy who wasn't, er....thin. So many bored sales people and overdressed perfume vendors, i mean really, all you're doing is spraying perfume at people at $9 an hour, why are you wearing a suit?
God, i could never work at a department store, i'd rather pick rubbish off trains with plastic extender-grip.
There was this really hot guy at Myers whilst we were venturing round the kiddies clothing section because John can still fit into a size 12-year-old. He was built and had a shaved head and his shoulders looked like they'd been licked by the sun. Omg i could have spooged Thomas the tank engine if we didn't move onto another section.

Eventually john left empty handed, it's hard to find the right pair of white mid-crop pants, shorter than capri.
But never give up when it comes to fashion, it's all about timing.
Here's the scottish guy with the tissue in his pants post
and i didn't smoke today at Latteria. i'm doing ok after watching Bai-Ling sing.

11 days of sobriety, i'm desperate for nicotine,

Whilst i was shopping today, carting through walls of sugary cereal boxes and long life milk i was making odd faces at people as i passed them. I'm not partial to body odour, i believe it isn't natural to smell so vulgar.
However when i got home i realised i can still smell it, the smell was on me!
I didn't think i smelt before, i have asked collegues this and they have said, "you don't smell" maybe they mean that i couldn't smell what i actually smelt like.
I was thoroughly distressed.
Since i quit smoking and curbed alcohol i found that my senses have become active but my enthusiasm fallen off the cliff.
I feel dull without my smokes and drinks.
It's all in the head , it's all in my head, the same head that squirts cum.
i better call tyrone.

They do have those black babies at oxfam and this cute brunette twink who chatted up the skater boy standing next to me noticing me only when he stopped scanning "and that will be $125 thank you" and turned away again.
I was rejected at an oxfam shop, how depressing.
Where's that girl with down-syndrome who sings to herself wiggles songs and... does the movements?.

Where has my rock and roll vibe gone?

I can't fit into most of my pants anymore, my black shirts faded, i smell and i broke the leg off a black baby whilst showing it at work with bits of fabric-fluff falling onto the carpet.

"She's bleeding!" miss C. exclaims

"fuck! i've killed my black baby!" i scream hurridly stuffing her into my Gucci messenger bag which i tried to zip-up however my babys head gets caught almost decapitating her.

She's ok now, just abit wobbly when the nanny (Bette) feeds her.

Long and tedious day, i'm not smoking, i'm not smoking, i'm not smoking....but i already noticed my waistline expanding and i haven't had much to eat, ok had a slice of tiramisu for lunch but.... anyway.
I'm determined to beat this le smoking attitude i even thought about going back to my spending binges, can't believe i contemplated a Hermes tea-set or an Omega watch. However christmas shopping can be stressful when you have so many choices.
But this year i have decided to not to out-bling anyone and buy all my gifts at the OXFAM shop to help fairtrade and poor people in, poor countries make..poor things for wealthy countries to buy. It sort of makes sense, i wanted to buy these black babies cos i can sooo do Angelena Jolie better than her... all i be missing is Brad.
I've kind of given up on finding the right man, to live happily ever after but you know sometimes you just hope and then realise you got to put the other shoe on and you're already 10minutes late.

Life is what it is, life.


Tim@Tokyo says: (1:27:58 PM)
when i go out to bars; i noticed i am starting to wave a lot

flotiz - 7 days no-smoking and hating it! says: (1:28:12 PM)
why are u waving?

Tim@Tokyo says: (1:28:29 PM)
and handing out business cards

flotiz - 7 days no-smoking and hating it! says: (1:29:20 PM)
u realise that becomes a target of ridicule

Tim@Tokyo says: (1:29:34 PM)
yes

Tim@Tokyo says: (1:29:43 PM)
i thought i would embrace the identity

Tim@Tokyo says: (1:29:55 PM)
like the newtown man

flotiz - 7 days no-smoking and hating it! says: (1:31:05 PM)
creepy

flotiz - 7 days no-smoking and hating it! says: (1:31:14 PM)
u getting creepy

flotiz - 7 days no-smoking and hating it! says: (1:31:30 PM)
but do u have a special 'goodbye wink'?

Tim@Tokyo says: (1:31:40 PM)
oh? he does?

flotiz - 7 days no-smoking and hating it! says: (1:33:15 PM)
yes but the right eye doesnt close down all the way

flotiz - 7 days no-smoking and hating it! says: (1:33:21 PM)
its a demi-wink

Oh, update... this is the man with glass eye entry way back when i had sex on easter.