Festival of Gay
Blog is late. Well past my Monday deadline. I have always promised myself – and I guess you as well – blog Monday, Wednesday at the latest, and here I am on Wednesday typing away furiously. I worry that doing it on Wednesdays it might be dreadful. Hump day and all that. Or, if you’ve had a particularly large Saturday, Weepy Wednesday. Or Suicide Wednesday.
I had a very large weekend. I went to the 2006 Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras. They have rules about how you have to say it, like you can’t call the Logies, ‘The Logies,’ you have to call them the TV Week Logie Awards – well, you don’t have to, it’s not the law, you won’t end up in hot tv prison with Wentworth Miller and Dominic Purcell, more’s the pity. If you’re working for them, however, you really are obliged to do what they say, so when you’re hosting the media room and introducing winners to the press, you have to say “the winner of the 2006 TV Week Logie Award for Best New Talent, please welcome someone you won’t remember in six months.” (It was Natalie Blair, if you were wondering, she was on Neighbours. I played My Charader with her one week on Rove Live, then I saw her in Sydney with Bec Cartwright’s ex-Beau Brady – don’t get me started on Bec Cartwright… that is a story I am wringing out for my show – Fabulous Adam Richard at the Comedy Festival – tickets on sale now).
Mardi Gras was great fun. I was filming a segment for ‘9am with David and Kim,’ where I normally contribute gossip on a Tuesday morning. I was running up and down the parade route, wearing a hot pink PVC rhinestone studded cowboy outfit. I looked like Elvis auditioning for Brokeback Mountain. At one point, Ian “Molly” Meldrum worked out that it was me inside the gigantic magenta cowboy, and fell to the ground in hysterics. I looked so outrageous, I ended up getting my photo taken from a hundred million tourists who clearly thought I was some kind of mardi gras spokesperson, or mascot. Speaking of mascots, here’s one to add to the pashmonster annals – I pashed a man dressed as a Kangaroo. So sordid.
Ended up having a demented random night out at several different pubs on Saturday, before and after filming, with friends. Bumped into a trillion people I knew, and about a trillion more who knew me. Paying for it now, however. What with the madness in Sydney, and the late night watching Oscars on Monday, my sleeping patterns have been thrown into jetlag like disarray. Last night I fell asleep at 6pm. Like a toddler. I was even grumpy and crying a little. Although a little sook and a wail when you are tired is incredibly cathartic. Just start it, like you did when you were a kid, you won’t be able to stop it once it starts. It sometimes even turns into a giggle, it sounds so silly. You’ll be right as rain in minutes.
Okay, mamma’s got work to do, and then off to Adelaide. If you’re in the ‘Laide, you may see me at a late show at the Rhino Room this weekend. Nothing definite, but pop down anyway. Just in case. And see Justin Hamilton while you’re at it. He’s ace.
Be good, and don’t break anything.