Tomorrow is the start of August. I’m excited about August. There are special things happening.

A day which isn’t meant to mean anything but means a lot to me.

A big birthday for someone very special to me.

August was meant to be the end of something but looks like it won’t be. It’s the month before September and for the past six months or so it’s been SEPTEMBER in my mind. A month of change, a looming month, a pivotal month. But now it’s unlikely September will be that month so I’m refocusing on August and letting September go, setting it free.

It’s amazing how some days seem like a battle, like nothing will ever work out, like nothing is worth the trouble… and other days everything seems so easy, what will be will be, the future’s not ours to see (nod: Doris Day), life is just how it is, nothing more, nothing less.

This time last year I was getting ready for the New York trip with the Joker. My goodness I love New York, it’s my happy place. I yearn for the streets and the light and the smell and the bars and the $1 oyster happy hour, the surprises around each corner, walking, my sister. I want to go again; often I get an attack of NEW YORK. My brain starts to work out the logistics of just going, next week. But I don’t. I’m an adult, of sorts. It hasn’t much to do with August… except I’ve been to New York in August/September two years in a row and my heart is telling me to go.

But instead I’m going to stay right here and jump into August feet first… and see where the road takes me.

Happy Happy Joy Joy

Sometimes things happen which are just happy happy joy joy things. Today such a thing happened. No, McNulty didn’t get run over by a truck. No, Fred Nile didn’t get discovered in a parliamentary closet wearing a gimp outfit buggering a goat. Much, much better than that.

Frank Turner. Is. Coming. To. Australia.

Frank Turner is my gift from The Joker. When we first met he said “have you heard this?” (I’m paraphrasing) and played me a bit of “Photosynthesis” and then a bit of “Substitute” and I fell deeply madly in love with two men in the one moment. No matter what happens with The Joker he’s given me the gift of Frank and I’ll always be grateful. No-one really gets my obsession but Frank talks (sings) directly to my heart.

Since I first heard him I’ve longed to see him live. Frank is awesome live. To stand in the audience and sing along, badly and loudly, to his songs would be a spiritual experience.

Imagine my joy when an hour ago I checked Facebook to find that he’s coming to Australia to perform at the BluesFest next Easter.

Such bursts of excitement are rare and this one took me back to the moment I was invited to meet the Chili Peppers before their 1995 Sydney Entertainment Centre show. I remember getting the letter in the mail from their touring company and actually screaming and jumping up and down (I was a lot younger then).

When you’re old/er and a little tired and a little downtrodden by life and ex’s and kids and boring jobs it’s nice to get that alive feeling, the adrenalin pumping, the excitement surging.

So a year and a half after first meeting Frank Turner I’ll actually get to see him live and in the flesh, hopefully with The Joker by my side. Is there anything better than having something awesome to look forward to?

(Not) Writing

Well Crump-ust has been a dismal failure. Fact. I just lost interest. I tried to get the train back on its tracks after Robin Williams’ death derailed it but my heart wasn’t in it. I like a perve as much as the next chick but I think I bit off more than I could chew with this task. I seriously can not think of 31 blokes I would elevate to Crump-ust status. (The Joker has threatened to do his own version – Whore-gust – but at this point I’m fairly sure it’s not going to happen.)

So I’m taking a moment to offer a half hearted apology to my (ahem) readers who undoubtedly are not at all surprised by my lack of commitment and enthusiasm. I should probably rename my blog “Lack of Commitment and Enthusiasm”. I’m chock-full of good intentions but life and laziness tend to get in the way. No shit Sherlock I hear you shout.

In just under three weeks we’re off to The Big Apple, NYC, the city that never sleeps and it’s finally feeling real. I never feel more alive than when I’m in the middle of a big city and there’s no city (much) bigger than New York, New York. I can almost feel it running through my veins right now. There’s a lot to do between now and then and I need to get to it… really soon… I’ll get to it, promise.

I’ve been thinking a fair bit about what makes me happy and writing is very high on the top of that list. Right after ___________ and ____________ and cooking and eating. So I really need to find my writing mojo and get stuck in. I can see some writing classes in my future; not because I don’t know how to write but because I need some external motivation or a kick in the bum.

I’m hoping The Joker and I can capture our trip in writing and/or recording (don’t put me in front of a video camera, pretty please) because just on the odd occasion we are pretty funny, well mildly amusing… Anyway, stay tuned for the Seymour and Audrey Project (working title).

Date Night: City and Colour

Last night The Joker and DKG had a much needed date night. Having an entertainer for a boyfriend means nights out are not very regular, being that he is often working on Friday and Saturday evenings, the most common nights for a date night.

We started with dinner at Pony Dining at The Rocks which is yet another restaurant where they’ve gone for style over substance in terms of decor. The place looks great and has a cool ambience, however… all hard surfaces makes for difficult conversation and terrible accoustics. Long tables for two placed close together to other tables means you are sitting closer to the person at the tables on your left and right than you are to your dining partner. Not ideal. Especially when your neighbours are loud Americans who are rude to the waiting staff and generally feel that everyone in the restaurant wants to know their business.

Food at Pony Dining is very good though. No complaints there. They grill well here and the place smells of the gorgeous smoke and the food tastes of it, which I guess is what you’d expect. My salmon was cooked beautifully, as was The Joker’s pork chop. My favourite thing was probably the eggplant side which, fortunately or unfortunately, kept revisiting me all evening. If I’m going to voice a tiny complaint it would be about the cocktails. We shared a jug of Polish Mule, which was vodka, some other grog, lime and ginger beer… and ICE, lots and lots of ice. It was delish and refreshing but don’t take the piss by offering a jug of cocktails (a jug the size of a small vase, not a jug by any normal standards) and then half filling it with ice. We know what you’re doing and you know that we know… so just stop it.

Anyway, dinner a reasonable success we waddled over to the ever gorgeous Sydney Opera House for the main event – City and Colour. Or more accurately City and Colour without the City or the Colour. Basically just Dallas Green. I don’t know much about this man and/or his band; this was The Joker’s choice and a fine choice. Mr Green is visually your garden variety hipster. You wouldn’t look at him twice if he passed you on King Street or sat next to you at a cafe sipping his chai latte in his ironic plaid shirt.

What sets him apart is his voice. Wow. Like Antony Hegarty, the effect when Dallas Green opens his mouth is amazing. It’s hard to believe that voice is coming out of that human. A falsetto that chills to the bones. Truly beautiful.

The standouts for me were his stunning version of Pink’s Try; the lyric with the pared back guitar and vocal – holy cow! And The Girl which I just love; simply a beautiful love song.

It was a bit much of the same thing if I’m honest but his beautiful voice and guitar playing had me mesmerised. As did the freaks in the crowd; especially the girl/s who seemed to think it was ok to constantly call out dumb shit. Shut up dickheads, we’re not here to listen to you.

One of the best things about a concert at the Opera House is the walk back to the car along the water, past Circular Quay. It always leaves me loving my home town just a little bit more and grateful for my life. It was a wonderful evening and, as ever, I’m thankful to The Joker for opening up my musical experiences.

New York state of mind

For those keeping up it’s been almost 10 months since McNulty walked out of our lives. It’s gone by pretty fast I must say. Probably because I’ve been busy getting on with it and also riding the rollercoaster otherwise known as my relationship with the Joker. That relationship can now also be filed under the “splitsville” category. I don’t have much to say about it because it hurts like a mofo right now. When it was good it was awesome and when it wasn’t it was death by a thousand paper cuts.

Today I’m thinking about New York. Mainly because I think I need an escape hatch and there’s not many places on earth I’d rather be than in NYC. It equals happy. I’m not booking my flights at this point because I promised myself I wouldn’t until the divorce was finalised (as a reward of sorts), because I know I can’t run away from my brain and my heart, because I had so wanted to go there with the Joker and because my relationship with my NYC-based sister is a little brittle right now.

There are other peripheral life things going on which mean I need to stay put, clear my brain and get through the next few months as calmly as possible. I’m not so good at calm or rational or sensible; it’ll be a bit of a challenge.

So I’m going to day dream about doughnuts and Momofuku duck and lobster rolls and walking along the Highline and day time happy hour $5 Bloody Marys. I’m going to convince myself that going alone will be even more awesomer than going with the Joker. I’m going to choose happy. And I’m going to stay in a New York state of mind until I’m back there very soon.