fresh from the cocoon, wings still damp, the creature examines its new form

Well, another week has passed into the past.

On Friday evening, Mr Ryan B very kindly took me to a play, being performed at Chapel Off Chapel. Of course it was wonderful to see him again, and the performance was extraordinary (see my review, below). It was also an evening for running into faces from the past. Mr Nick V from Uni was there (he seems to pop up everywhere!) filming the event, a new enterprise he has going. Then, who should sit next to me, but chemistry teacher cum school-play make-up artist extraordinaire, Mr Greg J. It took him a minute to recognise who I was, but once he mentally subtracted the glasses, the stubble and a few kilos, and added a blazer, tie and a few inches of pony-tail, he remembered the schoolboy I used to be. After the play, Mr Ryan B and I coffeed and chinwagged into the wee small hours, before Oli and I drove him home to Northcote *very-willing-chauffeur munkey*.

Saturday was the long-awaited housewarming of Ms Snazzles, Madame Mu, Ms Em and Mr Jez at their glorious new abode. Munkey trundled to my family home to help patermunkey bring his BBQ (the new residents don't have one) from the Hills of Endeavour, to the Hill of Clifton for the occasion. It was great to see all the friends and families-of-friends again, many of whom I've not caught up with for far too long... and to meet a few new people too. A good deal of booze was ingested, and a good deal of hilarity consequently ensued, before I split a cab home with one Ms Holly, who happens to live close by. O the joy of living a less-than-$15 taxi trip from my bestest friends! *taking-full-advantage-of-inner-suburbs-life munkey*

Sunday was a day of rest and recovery from my hangover, although I wasn't too unwell, thanks to the fool-proof 'Litre of water and two Panadols before bed' method. Then I made the best of my RDO on Monday (yay for RDOs!) doing the domesticky things such as washing, dishes, cleaning, etc which had been building up for some time. Mr Chris Mac dropped in for pizza and chat that evening, and seemed to heartily approve of my new domain. That night, I shed a quiet tear for my ability to sleep in, as i re-set my alarm clock. I lay me down to sleep, ready for a delightfully short working week, and a delightfully busy social week.

Mr Adrian popped in to check out the pad on Tuesday eve, before we headed off for a fine dinner at Grandma Funk's, and then to DT's for a fundraiser in aid of the Melbourne Rainbow Band. The MRB is a queer-friendly concert band, consisting mostly of gay and lesbian musicians, with whom Mr Adrian plays saxophone. It was great to meet all the people I've heard so much about... in particular Adrian's former student Dr Andrew: a 26 year-old, highly charismatic, tall, dark and dashing doctor (sorry gals, he's gay ~ sorry bois, he's spoken-for). The highlight of the evening was seeing Adrian and Andrew perform three duets for saxophone together... and of course, the shy, weedy, cute boy with glasses, whose name I think is David. Very easy on the eye. *look-but-don't-talk munkey*

Which brings us to Wednesday. After a false start on the weekend, I at last got to meet Mr Ryan Mac. Yes, another Ryan... but hey it's a lovely name, so who's complaining? We met at the Swan, and trundled down to Wild Oscar's, where Blair / Stuart from Big Brother / Neighbours was sitting with some other good-looking people, pretending to be ordinary. While I enjoyed a chicken focaccia, and Ryan a Caesar Salad (why is it that whenever I have a meal with someone, they eat Caesar Salad? Do I psychically attract Caesar Salad lovers, for some obscure reason?) I tried to keep my jaw from dropping at the tangled web of remarkable experiences which has made up Mr Ryan Mac's tender 20 years. *own-life-seeming-dull-by-comparison munkey* I don't know who has the rights to 'Ryan Mac: The Telemovie', but I want them!

We then braved the walk down Chapel St ("the asshole of Melbourne" as Mr Ryan so articulately put it) as he had double vouchers to Gold Class at the Jam Factory. So we lazed in our electronic recliners, gobbled Maltesers and watched Will Smith being improbably charming in Hitch. Now, we all know that munkey is a film-snob (Ryan had been duly warned) and we all know that romantic comedy is among my least favourite genres, but it wasn't too bad. It followed a pretty standard formula, had some very overdone physical "comedy" and had an extremely protracted third act (what's going on in Hollywood? doesn't anyone know how to do a snappy ending anymore?), but it had some strong characters, insightfully witty dialogue and a few genuinely romantic moments, so it wasn't too shabby.

Thus, munkey has been up late, and then awake again at 6am, for three nights running now... and it doesn't end there. Tonight I'm meeting Dr Goo and heading to Q & A at the Builders' Arms. Yes, lovers and dreamers, after not setting a toe inside a gay-themed place for several years, I am now going out on the "scene" twice in a week! Before you know it, I'll be popping pills, dancing like a dickhead, and screwing a different boy-with-no-personality every weekend. Well, perhaps not. If I make it through the next twelve hours without succumbing to exhaustion, I think I shall enjoy a nice relaxing Easter weekend. So don't fear, you won't be seeing me in a tight tee-shirt (or worse still: no shirt!) bopping along to Kylie at The Market any time soon. *slightly-disparaging-of-certain-segments-of-the-gay-community munkey*

Mr 13 update: As I was coming down the stairs to go out the other day, Mr 13 was standing just outside the front door, smoking either a self-rolled ciggy or a joint, with his eyes screwed shut and his hands pressed firmly over his ears. As I came past, he opened his eyes, smiled ever-so-slightly and said a meek, "gidday". Such a strange poppet.

Fare thee well, friends. I hope your grin is hanging from your ear-lobes, and all the world seems a ray of juicy sunshine.

~~~~~~~