"Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a serious lack of imagination" - Oscar Wilde

Developments are afoot in Matty boy's search for gainful employment and (oh why) a place to stay (make my day).

I have an interview on Monday to be a Public Information Officer (that's a press officer to you and me) for the New South Wales Fire Brigade in Central Sydney. This came a bit out of the blue, I was putting the job hunting on hold until the house hunting was over, but one e-mail to a specialist communications agency resulted in an instant phone call inviting me to meet them the next day. After a ten minute interview they lined me up with this interview. Sweet Jesus, if I do get this job it will have involved the minimum of effort. Looking at the job spec, I'm qualified for it, so there is every reason to be confident. It sounds interesting - particularly the crisis media management in the event of major disasters like bush fires - and I decide to dedicate my entire Sunday to swotting up on the interview. This does mean non attendance at the Sydney Cricket Ground as a resurgent England look to clinch the one-day series against the Aussies, but the only tickets left are expensive and it is forecast to rain. An entire day drinking before an interview is probably not that good an idea either.

The house hunting has now become decision time making. I've seen five places, all in different places with different kinds of people from different age groups. And I can't decide. Fucking typical. The places are either with the right people in the wrong place, vice versa and so on. So, in an attempt to help me decide as much as anything else, herewith are my options:

Potential flat mate: Tony, 39, actor and waiter Location: 11th floor apartment, Double Bay (Eastern Suburbs) Plus points: Very nice flat, only place with a bed I've seen, great views of the harbour, decent location Down sides: Potential flat mate sees rent boys, is ten years older and will probably try to bum me. Apartment block is mainly frequented by retired people, as is the area itself. I'm also not allowed to bring one night stands back to the apartment Gut feeling? Not for me

Potential flat mate: Matt, 23, not really sure what he does Location: Potts Point (walking distance from the city and gay scene) Plus points: Location, location, location. Very nice flat Down sides: No bed

Gut feeling? Gorgeous flat within touching distance of everything, but will it work out?

Potential flat mate: Gavin, 36, works in film production Location: Coogee Beach Plus points: Nice flat, two minutes' walk to beach, very sound potential flat mate. Reasonable rent. Down sides: It was pissing it down with rain when I saw this place, so I didn't really get to see the benefits of beach side living. It took me ages to get there and back on the bus. No bed. Gut feeling? I fucking hate buses

Potential flat mates: Mark, 31, and Graham, 26. Both work in IT and are a couple Location: Woollstonecraft (North Sydney) Plus points: Decent sized room with en suite, cheap rent, only 10-15 minutes train ride to the city Down sides: Potential flat mates never go out and seem quite boring. They have a dog. The home is next to a train track. No bed Gut feeling? Can't see this one working, but there is nothing that 'wrong' with the place. Am I being too fussy?

Potential flat mates: Josh, 26, and Joel, 24. A couple. Both told me what they do but I've forgotten Location: Chatswood, deepest North Sydney Plus points: Very nice house, backs onto a nature reserve. Large room, wireless internet. Potential flat mates are by far the easiest to get on with that I have seen. Both like a drink Down sides: Whilst getting into the City would take less than 30 minutes (including ten minute walk to station), this is a very isolated place. I'm practically in the countryside Gut feeling? The best option in terms of people, but do I want to live this far away from the centre?

There's only one way to get that moment of clarity I need on this Saturday night - on the lash. It certainly won't happen in front of the tele here. My God, the standard of the media here in Australia is APPALLING. I have been very willing to give the Aussies credit for everything that is great about living here, but the state of the newspapers and tv stations is about as impressive as a runny dog turd. Hacks can't write for toffee and repeats of Some Mothers Do Have 'Em on Saturday night tele? Strewth...

'Come and see my show. We have boys and girls upstairs!'

I move out of the hotel I've been staying in on Monday, and head towards a cheaper option - $20 a night cheaper - in the King's Cross area of Sydney.

There must be something about the name of the place, as this is renowned for being the favourite area for hookers and drug pushers in the city. As I come out of the train station, a rather hagged looking bird offers me some weed, which I politely decline.

My hotel is more basic than the last place, but that's life. Until I find somewhere to call home I'm going to have to cut my cloth, tighten my belt and so on.

The hotel is actually fine. And although the area does have more than its fair share of sex parlours, it's nothing like Soho. In fact, apart from one line of dodgy looking places, it's actually a nice part of town with good restaurants and bars. It's also quieter than where I was before (Chinatown).

My hunt for a room to live in hots up, so to speak, as I arrange to see two people about spare places going. The first guy I meet - a 23 year-old American called Matt - cuts short our meeting as he has to go the police station to report his former flat mate, who he had evicted, for stealing his IKEA sofa and some bottles of wine he bought from a festival in Adelaide.

The next prospective flat mate I meet with is a 39-year-old called Tony, who has a very nice 11th floor apartment over-looking the harbour in Double Bay. The place ticks all the boxes - lovely flat with a good sized room, wireless internet, decent price with bills included. The complex even has a pool and he seems like a nice enough bloke too, but I am a bit uneasy about the idea of moving in. I have reservations about how much we have in common, his apartment is in a part of Sydney where most people retire to, and I'm not sure if the dynamics are right for a house share. He said there are only two house rules - no drugs or one night stands. Fair enough, it's his house. But he then went on to admitting using a male escort about once a month to - and I quote - "sort the plumbing out". So, let's re-cap that one again. Meet somebody in a bar and want to take them home? No way. Prostitutes? Come on down.

Oh, maybe I'm being harsh. He is obviously a nice guy and is very intelligent (an actor, model manager), but I'm uncomfortable with the idea. Better find somewhere soon though...

I am what I am etc etc

Enough of all this butch sports watching and laddish lager swilling - it's time to put the Bacardi Breezers in the fridge, get out the whistle and go to the grand opening of the 2007 Sydney Mardi Gras.

The actual event and party is a month away but today (Sat 3rd Feb) is the start of a month long period of activity. You know the sorts of things I mean - lesbian book reading nights and the screening of porn films masquerading as some kind of art concept. That sort of stuff.

The organisers of Mardi Gras decided to keep details of where the launch would be a secret. Instead, a series of clues as to the location were posted on the official web site. This struck me as odd until some people I know (and who knew the venue) informed me that Mardi Gras was to be officially opened by Matt Lucas and David Walliams. Makes sense to avoid attracting people who only want to see them, I suppose.

In time honoured tradition I am late for the launch, which does have the silver lining of meaning I missed the 'congaline' from the Sydney Opera House to Customs House on Circular Quay, where it is to take place. Yes, that's right. All attendees were made to conga a considerable distance to where the launch was.

I arrive in time to hear some of the very worthy - but largely predictable - speeches. Australia does not have a particularly good record in comparison to other countries when it comes to gay rights, and I can imagine that in most parts of the country it would be extremely difficult to come out. Far more difficult than in England, not least because Sydney is the only place in the country with a large gay scene, and in a country as big as Australia it isn't somewhere you can just hop on a train to for a Saturday night out. So Mardi Gras - now in its 29th year - is seen as being a very important event for political as well as social reasons.

I support the concept of events like Mardi Gras (obviously, I was at the launch) but sometimes wonder to myself if they can be counter productive in some ways. Having a very visible celebration of gay/lesbian culture does make a very bold statement - it says that we will not hide, we will not accept second class treatment and so on. But when I heard one speaker at the launch say that Mardi Gras say the event advances the cause of gay rights, I have to admit I did doubt to myself whether or not the sight of a few hundred queens doing the conga by the Sydney Opera House really does that much for the cause. For example, I doubt whether or not a straight man who has been homophobic all his life is suddenly going to have his mindset altered favourably by this.

"Jeez sport, I used to hate those fags. But I was down by the harbour on Saturday and this big old bloke was doing the conga in the most fantastic drag outfit, and now they're ok in my book."

I guess what I'm trying to say is that, in my opinion, most people's attitudes towards gay people are changed by personal experience. If a family member, or a close friend, comes out it demonstrates that homosexuality is not kind of minority perversion. It brings home that people from all walks of life can be gay and that this is not some kind of lifestyle choice, but something people are as people.

It therefore needs to be asked: is a closeted young gay male, who is deeply worried about coming out and is uncomfortable with his sexuality, going to be encouraged by seeing a load of old queens doing the conga? Or is he more likely to suppress his feelings and remain in denial?

I'm just making the point, really. I recognise that the people who become active in Mardi Gras do far more than just dance around in loud clothes, and that many are active in the support networks that do so much for young gay people. I should admit that I have done, frankly, fuck all for gay rights in my entire life. Unless you count bouncing around dance tents twatted at the London Pride after-parties as a contribution.

Matt Lucas and David Walliams officially declare the 2007 Sydney Mardi Gras open to a rapturous welcome. It's nice to see them, even if they are on stage for less than two minutes. Lucas appears as Daffyd (god knows if I've spelt that corectly) and Walliams as his drag character Emily.

After the launch, I head on to a few bars on Oxford Street with a few people. We spend the rest of the afternoon/evening getting ratted and have a thoroughly good time. It's really good to have met some decent people in my first week who are great fun and company. Over the course of many conversations covering may subjects, something which is at first surprising becomes clear - Australians, well at least Australian gay men, really like Tony Blair. From a gay perspective, they compare and contrast the equality measures Labour have brought in with their own rather right wing government. I guess back home it is easy to always look at things from the glass being half empty perspective, and to forget how different the situation is elsewhere.

Poor old Tone, eh. He should just pack it in now and go somewhere else to top up his tan.