Monday

Monday morning, I wake up to alarm 2. It's not looking good. I feel so completely lacking in energy I want to ignore the alarm - but sensibly it's placed away from bed so I have to get up to turn it off, and it's not nearly as pleasant as alarm 1 which is the Kylie cd which has now stopped. (I snooze to Kylie every morning - I've tried a host of different cd's but she's consistently the best wake up music for me so far... not that she actually makes me get out of the bed) . The damn beeping one wins and I'm on autopilot to the shower. Shaving next stop, a bowl of cereal and fruit eaten in front of my pc with the latest news and blog updates. London Preppy has usually posted by now and I laugh myself awake, look at the time and rush to finish the cereal I'm eating because invariably I'm running late. The garage door closes remotely and I'm testing the supercharger my German engineering has installed to delight and propel me. I wonder as to whether I should accelerate so heavily as an environmentally responsible citizen, then I look at the time and my mind moves on, to the tempo of Bob Sinclair's Love Generation. My staff smile and welcome me in, they will have told my patients that I'll be there about now, and the day is underway. I have a mix of people to see, from the superhunk blonde 25 year old with muscles that need no more defining to the middle aged woman with a work injury that she doesn't seem to want to get better, to the kids pointing at the jelly bean container that I have mixed feelings about in the glassed in cabinet.

I escape into my seriously shortened lunchtime, after spending 50 minutes removing an implanted rod from a woman's arm that is not nearly as easy at they say in the promotional material, into a scorching day. Despite my sense of reason I go running in the heat and saturate my t-shirt with a sixpack-seeking sweat, then dive into the pool with 2 minutes of my lunch time left (lunch is still back at the surgery). Work continues evenly yet intensely for the afternoon. There was one patient where think I lost count at 6 yawns - but my post prandial somnolence thankfully doesn't last too long. They were in another world anyway - so I get away with it. And for the first time in weeks I finish on time.

The supermarket is filled with my patients, one of whom is the 25 year old I'd seen earlier in the day, this time with his girlfriend - it was quite funny given the personal nature of the consultation to cross paths at almost every aisle and then again at the checkout. But I'm not complaining.

Home with the wind in my hair - a balmy evening - & collapse onto the couch with Norah Jones playing - The Frenchman spontaneously vomits on hearing her, so with him still on his way home, I'm safe - and I know I can sleep to her. A candle is lit for atmosphere, but completely wasted given I'm snoozing. The Frenchman arrives home and we prepare a dinner of roasted fish and salad and discuss the day with a volley of text messages interspersed to various third parties following up things from the weekend, and a selection of news programs dissecting the current election campaign. We were given some home baked choc chip cookies today and a third of them survive the night.

I read Single in the City and wonder why I didn't add him to my list of blogs before, then watch a man showering on Aussielicious but wonder why, and ponder what to post today - something different and innovative - because I like to be different an innovative, but I end up with a web log of my day, which is I guess what this is supposed to be in the first place. And then it's finished and I go to bed.

I have played, I don't know how many, Norah Jones songs on my ipod today because I slept through most of them.

Sydney Harbour Sunset

We spent much of Sunday baby sitting our nieces (1 and 4yrs) in Sydney. It was a relaxed time just being there with them playing, feeding, drawing, preventing injury, and bonding in a very simple way. We were both quite tired from the week before, giving us a very subdued, relaxed and anything-goes vibe. Kids are a great thing for grounding you, and it was a very easy and peaceful day. We headed to Kirribilli for an early dinner. The sunset to this very warm day provided a stunning harbour just ripe for my camera. The afternoons and evenings this time of year are great for being outdoors. As I stood in the warm wind, memories of my summer holidays came flooding back. I felt like I was camping by the lake where my family congregated for decades each January. I guess it made me a little nostalgic. Those precious times you have as a kid where time stood still...

New Poll

What are your favourite posts from Superchilled?
The poll is now open.
You can select more than one answer, so go ahead and click away.
I'm curious as to what people actually read - and like to read (or look at) here on the blog.

Look out for a completely updated look to Superchilled, coming very soon.

Refreshment

It's the weekend and I'm in need of refreshment.
Here's a start.
Thanks to everyone who has wished the Frenchman well - he's home and so far so good. He looks a little washed out - but I think that's understandable. And no - no blasting of stones yet - wait for the next installment...

Update

Friday and The Frenchman will be visiting the very hospital I'm working in now to undergo a procedure on his 8mm kidney stone that I'm very glad I don't have. The idea of a rough crystal like rock 8mm trying to get through a 3mm tube does not appeal. Hopefully he'll feel like a new man tomorrow afternoon... but he's likely to need further procedures in time, poor bugger. He will, however, get to join me for breakfast at north beach prior to his surgery (though he won't be able to eat or drink... how cruel.)

I'm at work at the hospital now. It's been a reasonably straightforward night so far - but you never know what the night will bring. I just stuck a cannula into a bird. That bird being a tattoo on a very heavily tattooed arm here at the hospital. The bird didn't feel a thing and it seems its last cannula took 6 attempts by the doctor in A&E, poor guy. Hopefully The Frenchman's anaesthetist will have no problem with his veins.

It seems Christmas is just a hop step and jump away - and with it approaches a feeling of dread. I enjoy buying presents for people for birthdays and things - but Christmas is a whole different ball game. I used to love shopping - but now it's a very measured affair - the less time in store - the better. I have loads of things I'd rather do, and barely enough time already for them. So perhaps this year will see a different approach - maybe I'll avoid the whole shopping thing and be a bit more creative with gifts... But that takes planning... and more work... Perhaps I'll just skip the country... but stoopidly I've booked flights out of the country on Dec 26th....

one day too late...

Taking up the challenge...

Ursula took up the wild wednesday challenge and came running with me at lunch time (she hates running as much as I used to). She also came swimming after the run despite the weather being cooler than anticipated. I have to say jumping into the water after a run is the MOST FANTASTIC thing. I just love it. It's going to be an ongoing theme for the rest of the season. Ursula seems keen to make it a weekly event too...

Thanks babe, you're a star!

(hope you're not too sore)

Running Wild Wednesday

This Wild Wednesday is a physical challenge. Today's the day to take yourself and a friend off for a run. It might be around your suburb, in the park, in the gym, on the beach - you choose the location - just take someone with you and make it fun, and make sure you sweat! I'm taking my good friend Ursula for a lunch time run and afterwards we'll swim some laps to cool down.


Who are you going to take?

Painfully Beautiful

There's something about these flags that I always love. It's the beginning of the season now, so all the flags are new and unbleached by the sun. Spring, with it's crisp mornings and warm afternoons brings with it a certain freshness that injects me with a sense of renewal and the promise of great things to come. So into this spring we escaped for the weekend. Northbound, to catch up with friends and share some down time.

The Frenchman however, has been plagued by kidney stones this past week, so we have been much more laid back than normal, hoping for a resolution to his pain that has not come. Here he is sitting uncomfortably on the beach with the displeasure of the stones shaking about in side him...

Our shelter from the elements gave us a great outlook over them; our hosts generous and welcoming. Just like being home.
Thanks guys.
Always a delight.

How Gay is Your Sport? #7 SOCCER / FOOTBALL

Exhibit A - Where do I sign up?

Football / Soccer, seems to be one of the more intimate of team sports. Also one of the most amorous. I can instantly bring up images of men hugging, kissing, patting each other on the butt, and demonstrating huge and extravagant displays of pride / love / pleasure... when they score goals.

There are also loads of distinctly attractive players, many of whom have contracts with various advertisers... No complaints there.


So how gay is Soccer?






Participation Rating:

The aforementioned butt slapping, hugging and kissing seems to make it a rather tolerant sport, with at least some ambiguity if not true open gaiety. You get some serious closeness with your own team as well as opposition teams, though technically it's not supposed to be the case. I'm not entirely sure of change room antics, but if you can cope with nude and muscular fit men, then I don't think it will be too hard to cope with. There seems to be quite a lot of clothing being removed during games as well - so if you enjoy getting your gear off, at least partially, or your mates doing the same - then this is the sport for you on and off the field. As far as I can tell, apart from bimboesque wives in the stands, there aren't a lot of women involved, so you can focus fully on the men...
4 1/2 stars

Spectator rating:

If men's legs are your thing - then it's one of the tops sports for you. You get to see loads of them in all kinds of positions.

The frequency with which the cuter players remove their clothing and strut their stuff makes goal scoring so much more impressive regardless of who's team they're on.

Of course the kissing, hugging and generally amorous on-field behaviour does nothing to dampen down the gay man's enthusiasm for the sport.

4 stars


Total How Gay is your Sport Rating: 8.5/10

Get Up Campaign

My tax is paying for political campaigning and I'm sick of it

I received a thick booklet from the Prime Minister in the mail today. It's about keeping my internet safe for my family, a few weeks ago there was another publication promoting the government's activities. On the TV I've seen ads in prime time slots demonstrating how the government is apparently making the workplace fairer, improving superannuation, improving health care and making a difference in climate change. They have also just recently spent multi millions of dollars on things like hospitals in marginal seats for the upcoming federal election.

Whenever any of the government is asked about when the next election is, they smile, look at the interviewer and say "some time between now and December" , and every time I feel nauseous.

My tax is being spent on advertising, publications and questionable gifts to electoral regions who are being bought, and it's bloody obvious and infuriating. The advertising is one sided - the government is telling us how good they are. We can't argue - it's just there on the tv screen, in print, and in flash ads on most of the Australian webpages I read. There's no means of discussing these things, we're being dictated to, and people who have debated the responsibility of their advertising are being attacked by the government. They are stifling debate rather than embracing it, and they have the arrogant "I know what's good for you, just sit down and shut up while I do it" attitude.

Telling us that the government is deeply committed to solving climate change issues is just laughable - what about Kyoto? A year ago they said climate change was all baloney, despite an overwhelming mass of scientific data to the contrary. And now they have the hide to say they're leading the world?

It's time we had legislation that prohibits the misuse of government advertising, curiously absent in this country but present in Canada, the US, the UK and New Zealand.

If I see another blatant political ad under the guise of a government educating the people, I'm going to scream.

Again.

Wild Wednesday

Meeting new and interesting people can be life changing. Similarly, spending quality time with friends and family discussing life the universe and everything is an enriching and often forgotten experience. Getting out and about in the 'gay scene' can be a mind numbing experience, but when you arrange a dinner party - you can set the scene for a much more intimate and deep connection.

I know the middle of the week is often dismissed for social activity, but can be a sensational way to break up the week. Hosting or attending a mid week dinner party can be a fantastic experience all round. So, not surprisingly, I'm proposing the Wild Wednesday Dinner Party. You can have predetermined start and end points to cater for your workday committments, and catch up with friends of old and as yet unknowns. You can take out or cook in, but a home prepared meal is recommended for the true dinner party experience. Being mid week you're not expected to go all out on a 10 course degustation menu, so a simple meal is de rigeur. Getting your guests to prepare a course or part thereof may make for a more fun and practical midweek event. Being spontaneous is recommended, from dinner for 2 to a party of 8, make it a date. It can be every Wednesay or alternate weeks if you like. See who you can get to know.

I wonder who I'll invite...

Crashed and burned?

Ryan Phillippe, Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Channing Tatum certainly make the movie Stop Loss (out in 2008) an attractive proposition - I've little idea about the plot , and no idea about the women - but what's new? I just love this photo. It seems you could make any number of stories out of it. Anyone care to indulge?

Happy Birthday Sylvain

It's my better half's birthday today. Isn't he cute!

Have a great one boy!

Glass Celebration & Organisational Frustration

On Sunday night we celebrated The Frenchman's birthday with dinner in the perfect ambience of Glass restaurant at Sydney's Hilton Hotel. A recently renovated (or more accurately rebuilt) hotel, the location was stunning. We sat at a table that seemed made just for us, looking through an impossibly tall glass wall at the grandness that is the Queen Victoria Building. We had a great night there, the two of us, and would quite happily go back for more.

As I sat there eating our gourmet dinner though, I imagined the restaurant filled with our family and friends talking and laughing and sharing food, the atmosphere thick with familiarity, celebration and love. But we didn't organise it - so it didn't happen.

Sometimes I wish that more people would take the initiative to do things. Make things happen. They often talk about it - but I find it rarely materialises. If you want something done, you really do have to do it yourself. Now I'm not lazy. I actually do get in there and organise. But now and again I'd like to be the one not in the driver's seat, not be the one with the whip and carrot. I'm not just talking celebrations, but general everyday things, catching up with people, going to events, travelling even.

But even in high school I wished this - and it didn't happen - so I was always the organiser, and perhaps it's my destiny, it's my lot. Sure there are worse things, there are people starving in Africa, HIV being ignorantly spread, and a war being fought against I don't know what in Iraq, but right now I just want balance. I know I'll just get frustrated and it will pass, and I'll be back organising things as always.

To those people who have initiated and organised in the past - it really is appreciated. We need more of you, because then there can be less of me.

Riflemind

A Play by Andrew Upton (Cate Blanchett's husband)
Directed by Philip Seymour Hoffman

Someone has put a gun to the heads of the characters in Andrew Upton's new play. Unfortunately, no one pulled the trigger.

The most impressive feature of Saturday Night's performance at Sydney Theatre Company's Wharf 1 Theatre was the stage design - a gourmet kitchen and funky living space that I could quite easily transplant into my own home. The most compelling question I had at the end of the performance was "Where can I find those floorboards?".

The play centres around a once famous rock band 'Riflemind' now contemplating re-forming for a comeback tour, reliving the emotions of their rise and fall and pondering the future. Seems like an interesting topic, no?

No.

Now I did try to like it - we even stayed after interval (unlike our more sensible theatre buddies) though The Frenchman did indicate to me his pain at numerous points through the second act, when he wasn't sleeping. There seemed to me to be some interesting questions posed in the first act about the value of celebrity, the impact of the associated hedonistic lifestyle and the closeting of sexuality. The second act seemed to stumble past these questions. We were blasted with deafeningly loud bursts of rock music and intermittent strobe effects which were as frighteningly unexpected as they were inappropriate and so many Fuck You's that even The Frenchman was mortified.

Hugo Weaving played a boomingly unconvincing John, lead guitarist / vocalist / songwriter / recovering everythingaholic, though I've got to admit he has quite a stage presence. At times it seemed the actors weren't quite sure what they were doing with their lines, and there was such a mix of accents that I didn't quite know where we were supposed to be, nor quite how we got there. Oh, and the sex scene was entirely unconvincing on so many levels.

Perhaps the aim of the play was to tell us that being famous is in fact a terrible thing that destroys people. But I never got the sense that these people were really likeable in the first place.

There are loads of stars in this production - but not a lot of glitter.

Now, where can I find the interior designer?

Your Favourite Rooms...

This week's Wild Wednesday challenge was to send in a picture of your favourite room, or the place you spend the most time. People have been active in taking some photos and sending them in - thanks so much guys & girls.

Here are those sent in so far, including photos, video! and blog links.

You too can still send in your place - the more we have, the more diverse and interesting it becomes - let's see how many cities and countries can be represented.

on Saturday

Wally's Dream Kitchen

Queensland

Sam's Palace

Sudan

click here for his blog post with more photos and details

Tom's Entertaining Dining Room
Bondi

Neil & Miss Twinkle Toes' Industrious Office
UK

Where do you live?

The Dark Side

Oh my God! What the hell?

The last time I went to church on a Sunday morning - I was 23. While looking up at the sunlight streaming in through the high windows, trying to stay awake through a sermon that really awoke nothing within me, I was wondering what the hell I was doing there. Worse still, my friends were playing beach volleyball just a km or two down the road.

I wasn't out - I didn't want to be gay - but was figuring quite rapidly that it wasn't really a decision for me to make. I still recall one family friend standing up in church making some scared plea to vote for the christian democrat party in the coming state elections to stop the passing of some pro-gay law (which was really more pro equality). I remember thinking then and there - this really isn't the place for me. I'd waited long enough to have that sensation that I needed to be baptised, that I had the faith - (yes it was a Baptist church) - and figured it was time to look to the dark side... all the good Christians seemed to have been to the dark side and come back with extra fervor.

So one Sunday I just went to beach volleyball instead. I never looked back. Sand between my toes, sun on my skin, and the ocean in my sights, I had never felt so free, liberated in all my life! I probably became more spiritual after leaving the church than I ever had been while attending. And no one ever asked me directly about my disappearance... not even my parents. I was shocked at how easy it was to just not go back. And I had my weekends back! No more Sundays wasted! Quality of Life just got a promotion. The dark side was looking quite bright! But it wasn't just freedom to be at the beach or wherever I chose, it was freedom from having to believe something that didn't feel right, or think in a prescribed manner. The ability to explore my own path, in my own way.

I've been back to church from time to time - but just for weddings and christenings and the like. It feels foreign to me each time now - it feels like going back to primary school - you recognise it - and feel familiar with it - but you just don't fit in there any more. And usually when I'm there I wonder at the reason for the persisting religious intolerance to gay people, and the true lack of compassion which I felt was an essential Christian value... And why is it that people will much more readily just gloss past the issue rather than address it. Perhaps it is easier to live a life of faith rather than question things that seem, at least to me, so obviously flawed.

Life without religion, for me, is fantastic.

The dark side now seems to be labelled with a cross.

Wild Wednesday

Where do you live?

my favourite room at home - our lounge room

Last week I put it to you, the readers of Superchilled, what you might like as a challenge for wild wednesday. Tom Cat of Bondi Beach suggested we get to know a little more about where we all live - and so today I'm posting a short video of my favourite room in my home (which happens to have in it some of my favourite loved ones). I shot it tonight after a thoroughly exhausting swim squad & gym session - so it's me at my exhausted best. But you get the idea. It's a sensational place to relax and just be. In the daytime there is oceanic blue to the horizon, and you can stare at the ever changing swell rolling in.

Now it's your turn to get involved by posting a photo of your favourite room, or the place you spend most time, either on your own blog - (and link it here in the comments or email me the link) or email me a photo that I can post with whatever details you'd like about you here. It might be "Tom, New York" or something with considerably more or less detail...

Let's get to know each other.

email to superchilledtrevor@gmail.com

It's going to be a hot day here today! 34C or more... (93F) and windy too. With the bushfire season in full force already it could indeed be a wild wednesday.

What your doctor REALLY wants to say....

No you're not big framed, you're FAT.

Of course sticking a needle into you is going to hurt and especially so if you don’t stop moving about like a boxer.

Since when does ‘no contact sport’ allow for wrestling?

Sure I can give you antibiotics, I can also give you steroids, anti-inflammatories, benzodiazepines, antiarrhythmics and tricyclic antidepressants, but none of them are going to cure your cold.

You don't want to go to hospital huh? Can you make out a new will with me as beneficiary then? The odds are looking pretty good.

Yes it really IS possible for you to be pregnant.

I’m putting this IV in to HELP you, not because I like inflicting pain. I do have things I’d much rather be doing that coming here to defy Darwin’s theories. Sure it may hurt a bit, but it’s certainly not intentional. So if you threaten again to punch me if it hurts you, I’ll show you how a really bad doctor puts one in.

I know you've never been that weight since you were playing competition football aged 18. It's time you got off your fat arse and started exercising again!

Here's your medical certificate. It says "Adam is not fit to work, or suffer from any gainful employment, especially on sunny days or when the surf's up, because he has an incurable case of slackarssitis".

Sure you can go out drinking again on the weekend. Shall I book you in on Monday for that other broken leg?

If you had listened to me and actually taken my advice over the past 10 years, I wouldn't need to be calling for an ambulance while applying oxygen, anginine, aspirin and being unrealistically reassuring right now. This is your heart kicking you back. Oh and today you're paying the full fee.

No, its not that you're unlucky, you just make really really bad choices.

You've got to be kidding, you think I'm using you as a guinea pig? If I wanted to experiment with prescribed drugs on someone, it certainly wouldn't be you!