Being the second last night of 2004, I thought I'd do the unoriginal thing and take stock over what has been an... interesting year. Well in the Mikey context, at least.

So (escaping from the unfolding tragedy of recent days) lets take a self-focused look at the year that was. Note: this will be far from being in any coherent chronological order.


Two-thousand and four was the year of Mikey the University Student. So I started my first year of a combined Education/Science degree and it didn't turn out too badly. I was introduced to the life that is sleeping during lectures, the in-between-classes drinks at Manning Bar, cheap food (you really do get what you pay for, however) and the cute boys.

Of course, there were the long and equally terrible physics and chemistry lab sessions, unintelligible lecturers, tough assignments and exams that one would stay up all night finishing or studying for, fees, student politics, trains that fail to materialise and the dog poop that seemed to always be on Lawson Street in Redfern. Not to mention the stairs in Carslaw. Well, stairs in general all over campus. There are too many. I've come to despise them.

Fisher Library was also an experience. The place always intimidates me. I think it's the 'Be Quiet' signs that do it. I'm too scared to make a noise, a la George Costanza and the swishing business suit. It's as if a killer librarian will swing down from the book stacks, laugh an evil piratey laugh, and then stab me with a cutlass. And that's I don't get lost first. Then the other type of librarian, the Minotaur kind, might've gotten me in amongst the labyrinth that is Level 8 of Fisher Stack.

But it's all good. I like it, the uni lifestyle and all. Four years left.

Coupled with Mikey the Uni Student came Mikey the Potential Educator. I went back and spoke at the graduation of the Class of 2004 at my alma mater and that brought all home. I wasn't at school as a pupil anymore. And I'd be back, eventually as the other one, not as a student learning but as a teacher teaching. It was re-assuring that my own teachers had been through what I'm currently going through - academically at least. One teacher said to me, "they still teach Piaget ?!". [Piaget: educational psychologist]


Two-thousand and four was also the year of Mikey the Gay. I stopped trying with the whole girl thing and faced up to the fact that females, as lovely as they are, just don't get my motor running. Up until then, I'd labelled myself bisexual. At least then, there was the option of having that heterosexual life that I'd dreamt up for myself in my formative years. You know, wife and kids with a suburban family home.

But that isn't to be. I more or less exclusively worship the cock. It was tough enough coming to terms with that. There wouldn't be any carrying-on-the-family-line business. Not in the conventional sense, anyway. I knew my that my Mum, deep down inside, was looking forward to grandchildren. And that wouldn't be happening either. Which leads me to that other thing. I came out of the closet to my Mum, who isn't at all pleased and I'd say she's having a mite more trouble coming to terms with it. A part of me wishes I hadn't told her but I suppose that we're all better off if she knows.

Of the more positive coming-out experiences was when the first member of my extended family found out - my cousin Mark. It helped a lot. My thanks goes out to him.

Also pertaining to the theme of the year of gay, some 'honourable mentions': Tony, Doug, Tony (again), Mattymoo and James.


This year was also the year of Mikey the Drunk. Turning eighteen had everything to do with this. I found out that my liver is about the size of a ten cent coin. Yeah, I'm a cheap drunk. What are you going to do about it? Buy me a drink? You'd better.


Regrets? I've had a few. But then again, too few to mention. Ah, good Ol' Blue Eyes. Couldn't have said it better myself.


Listening to:
Title: Can You Be True
Artist: Elvis Costello
Album/station: North
Length: 3.45