No Doubt

I've finished up at 1 vs 100 and I've had some going away drinks at my local pub and I've started throwing out superfluous clothing I havent fit into since Merril Bainbridge was in the charts. I'm definately moving.



All the Melbournians I've told about moving to Adelaide invariably say one of three things.

1. City of Churches!! (crash bang whallop)
2. Well its not far to fly home...
3. My step-cousin/brother-in-law/ex-best-friend/former-flame lives in Adelaide, you MUST look them up.

I'm all for the cavalier calling of a tentative link... thats part of the relocation package. Launching yourself onto unsuspecting new blood. It's like blind dating. But I do know one or two people in my new home state. Like, literally one or two.

One of them is a girl I met on a travel junket I went on for Womens Day, Amy. We were the two youngest members of the Whitsundays jaunt, and formed a bond over beer beside the horizon pool listening to the Sissor Sisters cover Franz Ferdinand. 2004 in a caplet!!

She's come to Melbourne a few times and we've kept in touch - she actually works at the Adevertiser, so Im hoping she'll provide some insider shorthand about the bubbler politics. Who's slept with who in the loos of the local pub, that sort of thing. Here she is, on the right, after consuming near a bottle of wine and a six pack of Pure Blonde...



Another guy I know in the 'Laide is this bloke Jason, who works for the ABC. Jason and I were the producers of this student news program called Newsline about 5 years ago. I havent seen him since those heady, idealistic, reactionary days. I tried to find a picture of him on Google Images and this was my 'I'm Feeling Lucky' option:



I havent seen him in half a decade, but think it's quite a likeness. Jason was always very ambitous and talented and creative with a healthy journalistic sneer. I gave him a call the other day to see if I could get some dirt on SA style. He's been living there for 18 months and I think I might have caught him on a particularly realistic evening.

'Well I hope you arent coming over to party hard,' he said, deadpan, gearing up for a roll. 'There's about three passible venues in the city. You'll go there every week. And it's colder than Melbourne. And the drivers are terrible, they never let you in. And everyone hangs out with the people they went to high school with. And...'

And shit.

I sat down on the couch after hanging up from speaking to him and swallowed hard. 'Am I making the right decision?' I thought. 'How important is going out to me? Not THAT important. (ahem) But I dont mind the cold weather. (I must get a new coat) And let's be honest, Im no Jeremy Clarkson behind the wheel either.'

No sir, I'm not afraid. Im a hanging out for all the cliche's: to challenge myself, try something new, meet some fresh people, move my arse out of my mothers place before I turn into Principle Skinner. This IS the right decision. In my gut, I know it.

When my gut's not bouncing all over the place.