Sydney's own fest of funnies is back with a truckload of comedians to see. If you don't know where to start, we don't blame you, and we're here to help. Our top tip is to check out one of the festival's fabulous galas or showcases – that way you'll get to see a bunch of acts in one go.
Sydney – what a gal! She’s a complex beauty, whose magic can take your breath away one minute, and make you feel detached and alone the next.
I was born and raised here, but despite having family and friends dotted throughout this vast contradiction of a city, it can often still feel like I don’t fit. It’s a tough place to be single when a dual income is the only way to get ahead in housing, and using the T3 lane is the only way to get ahead in traffic. Being a ‘party of one’ doesn’t always feel like a party.
He’s an absolute smooch machine. A goofy little garbage guts. A thicc boy with a heart full of love.
And living on your own in a pandemic lockdown? Proper Cast Away vibes. I mean, I didn’t have a volleyball, I’m not that sporty. But the beard had really come in thick.
After the lockdowns lifted and I could finally get in to see my therapist again, she explained the numbness and disconnection I was feeling may have been ‘oxytocin depletion’. Oxytocin is that hormone you hear a lot about with mothers and babies. The bonding hormone. But all mammals have it throughout their lives, and we all need it. It is released when we physically connect with each other, and it is a positive loop hormone, meaning the more you hug, the more you release, so the more you want to hug. It’s also vital in maintaining healthy trust and social function in humans.
But if you haven’t had healthy levels of oxytocin for an extended period, the receptors in your brain that receive and distribute oxytocin around your body start to atrophy. So when you go to hug again, the sweet feels aren’t even there. Tragic!
My therapist said there are two choices at this point of depletion – go on medication, or get a pet.
Photograph: Supplied/Nikki Britton
Now I’m all for meds if they are what you need, but I was pretty puppy clucky at the time, so I took this prescription very seriously and (after months of an exhaustive pet adoption process) I brought Mal home 18 months ago – a handsome three-year-old (?) red cattle dog/british bulldog (?). His pet rescue profile described him as a stray who had “been abandoned, but just needed a cuddle”. He’s an absolute smooch machine. A goofy little garbage guts. A thicc boy with a heart full of love.
He’s absolutely changed my life. I won’t go as far as to say ‘I didn’t rescue him, he rescued me’. Because the vet bills would suggest I definitely rescued him. But I will say my life has become exponentially better since bringing a pooch home to live with me in this formidable city, and here are some of the reasons why:
Training my dog gave me the hobby I needed
I’ve never had hobbies. Before I got Mal I had started listing ‘witchcraft’ under the ‘hobbies’ section on a dating app, just for a laugh. (How am I single though?) But since having him, a whole new world of interests and passions have opened up to me. Training a dog has been genuinely rewarding, and such a sweet bonding experience. Also, the accessories you can justify buying in order to train, so fun! I’ve traded the spell books for a tennis ball launcher and honestly, it’s for the best.
I'm exploring more of the city with my new sidekick
Ok, we are not at the US or Europe’s level of dog acceptance in public places, but there are still some very cool places you can take your dog. Obviously there are a stack of breweries, cafés and pubs that have embraced the dog friendly lifestyle – but did you know all ferries in Sydney will accept dogs on board? How cute! Take your pooch pal on a harbour cruise! Or take them for a walk across the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Or book a pet friendly hotel for the night. Or my favourite is to blatantly people-watch while my dog sniffs a tree. Just stare with my tongue out and get the absolute juice on someone’s public drama in the park. “Don’t mind me I’m just waiting for my dog to wee, now could you speak up? I didn’t quite catch what he said when he walked out?”
Photograph: Supplied/Nikki Britton
I'm getting more fresh air
The reality of living in Sydney is it is so expensive that you are forced to live in a place the size of half a wardrobe. The sunshine is kept elsewhere and the idea of having your own patch of grass is a pipedream. It forces you out into our gorgeous outdoor spaces. A dog’s nose is the best guide to the tucked away treasures of this city. Magnificent vistas and quiet little oases I never would have traipsed through a bush to find on my own. And if you are lucky enough to rescue a particularly uninhibited pooch, you might find yourself in various fancy backyards, enjoying other people’s patches of grass for no cost at all (as long as you can run faster than they can).
I've found community at the dog park
I don’t know who these people are who are smooth enough to flirt with a bag of warm shit in their hand, but go off king/queen/your eminence! The people I have met have not been romantically inclined, but have always been very supportive. Mostly because my dog is a menace at a dog park and other lovely people are comforting me with a kind “he’s a dog, they just do that” as he tears around with his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, putting his head between another dog’s back legs and flipping them upside-down like he’s in the cast of Jackass. It’s a kind community.
I get to see the joy on people’s faces
My friends with kids have always said one of the loveliest parts of parenthood is watching the people you love, fall in love with your child. This works for dogs too. Maybe more! Because it’s people you love, but also strangers on the street (which I reckon you probably don’t really want falling in love with your baby). Every person who walks towards Mal can’t help but smile, and he can’t help but wiggle his little bum on approach to them. Then you watch this adorable momentary love affair happen. It’s the cutest thing.
Photograph: Supplied/Nikki Britton
I've unlocked 'rescue dog smugness'
There aren’t many occasions in life where you get to feel properly smug for doing the bare minimum. And of course, basing your self-esteem on being “better” than other people is deeply flawed. But I don’t care, because my dog is a rescue. He’s a RESCUE! Did you hear? I’m better than you. Sorry, what? Your doodle floodle is from a breeder? Yeah, I figured. Well I saved A LIFE! Has it meant that I have had to spend heaps more on training? Sure! Am I constantly having to deal with him eating street snacks that give him diarrhea? You bet. Is he triggered by stuff I can’t even anticipate? All. The. Time. But when people ask “what breed is he?” Do I get to gently shrug like an angel, cast my saviour eyes downwards, and say, “we’re not really sure. He’s a rescue”? As he tries to disembowel a bush turkey? Every single day.
I've re-connected with my horse gals!
Speaking of training, I have done a thorough assessment of a variety of dog trainers now and they all have one thing in common – they are ex horse girls! Great to see them making their passion for animals work in the big city. You remember that girl at school who went to horse camp every holidays? Never shut up about pony club? I always thought “Yeah babe, you can get the same feeling grinding on a firm pillow”. But it turns out they were learning all sorts of husbandry as well as discovering the new sensations that came with puberty. Now I LOVE animals, but these gals are next level. I’ve seen them produce liver treats at the speed of light to diffuse a situation. I don’t know where they keep them. They are half human, half tennis ball dispenser. It’s wild. Anyway, it’s been great to hang out again Stacey. See you Wednesday!
Nikki Britton is performing at the 2023 Sydney Comedy Festival. You can see her new show Getting Out in Front of It at the Factory Theatre, Marrickville, from May 18-21. Tickets are $29-$35. Find out more and secure your seats over here.
