I don't do this very often, and this is probably the least appropriate time to do it, but I have to recommend a movie. Go see shortbus. It's probably out of the theaters up in the states by now, and if you haven't seen it, then there's probably a reason. Maybe you heard that it's one of the first cinema movies ever made to have real sex in it. And maybe you heard just how much sex there was in it. There is a LOT. So much so, that we walked in 5 minutes late, and the first sight we were greeted with was a 30 foot wang in front of us. So it's not for everybody. It's not really for anybody. It's for people that can put aside their inhibitions for one night, and watch a movie that's a celebration of human interaction. It really should be classified as a porno, and be taken out of theaters. But it wasn't.
Why? It is SO well made. I can't describe. It had some of the best dialogue I have ever heard in a movie, and you could tell the makers of the movie knew that not everyone would be comfortable with the sex, so they throw in jokes in the middle of the sex scenes. Like the part where the three gay guys are daisy chaining each other and one starts singing the national anthem into another guys ass. I shit you not. It's absolutely vile and disgusting and far beyond the furthest stretches of my mind, but I was almost rolling on the floor laughing. The whole movie is filled with this humor, but it's when people are fully dressed that the movie really begins to shine, and the ending is so uplifting you can't help but leave the theater smiling from ear to ear.
I saw it with three of my friends and we all left, mouths agape, chuckling all the way home. It makes you so giddy, and not just for the fact that you just got away with watching a hardcore porno with 50 other people. We felt so good in fact that we skipped town. On a tuesday night. We packed up our stuff and drove up to Surfer's Paradise and hit the clubs. We danced all night and slept in the grass on the side of a river. We got up with the sun and still made it back with plenty of time before our 10 o'clock class.
I'm still pretty tired from the whole thing, so this post really sucks and doesn't come close to describing the entire night, but I don't think I could ever really find the words to describe how refreshing the entire experience was. It felt like I was finally really living my life without any worries. And I still got everything done. Absolutely awesome night.
My god. Listen to the shit rolling off my hands. I'm going to bed.
Jan 31, 2007
Jan 28, 2007
Recipe For Disaster
I don't know if this is technically correct to say, but this weekend was really cliched. It's like I did everything that I was expected to do. Don't get me wrong, it was totally kickass, but with very few surprises.
It started off with a sort of final at school, and while everyone was freaking out, I really wasn't that worried. It was multiple choice, which I've done too many times, so I looked over my notes a couple times the day before and I got a 91%. I was also the third person to finish. Not to brag, but that's how easy this test was, and you only needed a 50% to pass. No shit.
So it was obvious that we were all going to celebrate the end of the test, but it just so happened that Australia Day was the day after the test. Australia Day is basically St. Patrick's Day but for down here. On the one day, everyone in Australia becomes an Australian. So my friend Matt offered to drive Melisa and I up to Brisbane for the night so we could go to his friend's barbecue up there. We got there around noon, and there was a blistering heat. The second we sat down, we already had a beer to our lips to quench the mighty thirsts that we had, and we never really looked back. The heat even got bad enough that a make-shift slip-and-slide was built even though Australians can't use hoses because of the draught here, so we had to bucket in water every couple of minutes.
So the day continued like that. Eat, drink, slip, slide and when someone suggested we play wheel of goon, I started to get scared. Now there's two things you might need explaining here. "Goon" is Australian slang for boxed wine, which is the cheapest alcohol you can buy here. There isn't any PBR or Keystone Light. It's also interesting to know that goon contains fish, egg and soy products, which is one of the main reasons that I stick to my slightly more expensive beer. Then, "Wheel of Goon" is a game where you take the bag of wine out of the box that it comes in, and attach it to a clothes line that spins around in a circle, and whoever it lands on has to drink it straight out of the bag for 10 seconds. I jumped in, and when the bag never stopped on me, but they made me drink the last 4 seconds of someone elses turn because they couldn't finish. Right when I fisnished drinking, the only words that came to mind were "fish", "egg" and "soy". I immediately felt queezy, which might've just been the alcohol in it, but I went and laid down for five minutes, but I felt it coming back up so I ran and chucked it up in the grass. I got a cheer as the first person to throw up. Yay for me! Even though I felt better, I was really tired, so I went upstairs and told Melisa to wake me up in 10 minutes. That was about 5:30.
I woke up on my own at 7:00 or so. I felt good, even though everything was still a blur. I went downstairs and everyone was getting ready to head out to town. I really wasn't ready to pack it in for the night so early, so I put on my all-stars and went out with them. We found a really nice bar in the city with a good band and just hung out there for the night. Like I said before, there weren't really any surprises here. We talked and we drank. A gay guy hit on me. The band was pretty good. I guess the only real surprise here was that I actually danced. Even though the band was playing music which is pretty much impossible to dance to, we thought that swing dancing was the most appropriate, so we got out there and I tried my best to remember my couple of dancing lessons with Sara Petty back in the States, and I think I did a pretty damn good job. At least no girls turned me down for a dance.
So the night started wrapping up and we grabbed some KFC before we got home. We talked politics while we ate. We got a cab home because our legs were absolutely wrecked from the days activities, and we all went to bed quietly. Oh what a good sleep.
The next day, for some odd reason, we were awake at 8:00, and after some breakfast, the three of us amigos drove down to the Gold Coast where we spent the day looking at the ground and sitting on the beach in the sun. We were all so tired. We couldn't even wake up enough to truly have fun, so we just called it a day and drove home, vowing to go back some other weekend when we can have lots of fun with lots of stories to tell. Ooohh ooo! Wait a minute. One good story. I went into Red Rooster (which is like chick-fil-a) and the guy that took my order looked exactly like the mad hatter from Alice in Wonderland. His hair was dyed black and blonde, and it was pouring out from underneath his work hat from all directions. He had wide crazy eyes and bucked teeth sticking out from underneath his lips. Uncanny, really.
So I hope everyone else enjoyed their Australia Day. I'll be waiting to hear all the great stories from up north.
It started off with a sort of final at school, and while everyone was freaking out, I really wasn't that worried. It was multiple choice, which I've done too many times, so I looked over my notes a couple times the day before and I got a 91%. I was also the third person to finish. Not to brag, but that's how easy this test was, and you only needed a 50% to pass. No shit.
So it was obvious that we were all going to celebrate the end of the test, but it just so happened that Australia Day was the day after the test. Australia Day is basically St. Patrick's Day but for down here. On the one day, everyone in Australia becomes an Australian. So my friend Matt offered to drive Melisa and I up to Brisbane for the night so we could go to his friend's barbecue up there. We got there around noon, and there was a blistering heat. The second we sat down, we already had a beer to our lips to quench the mighty thirsts that we had, and we never really looked back. The heat even got bad enough that a make-shift slip-and-slide was built even though Australians can't use hoses because of the draught here, so we had to bucket in water every couple of minutes.
So the day continued like that. Eat, drink, slip, slide and when someone suggested we play wheel of goon, I started to get scared. Now there's two things you might need explaining here. "Goon" is Australian slang for boxed wine, which is the cheapest alcohol you can buy here. There isn't any PBR or Keystone Light. It's also interesting to know that goon contains fish, egg and soy products, which is one of the main reasons that I stick to my slightly more expensive beer. Then, "Wheel of Goon" is a game where you take the bag of wine out of the box that it comes in, and attach it to a clothes line that spins around in a circle, and whoever it lands on has to drink it straight out of the bag for 10 seconds. I jumped in, and when the bag never stopped on me, but they made me drink the last 4 seconds of someone elses turn because they couldn't finish. Right when I fisnished drinking, the only words that came to mind were "fish", "egg" and "soy". I immediately felt queezy, which might've just been the alcohol in it, but I went and laid down for five minutes, but I felt it coming back up so I ran and chucked it up in the grass. I got a cheer as the first person to throw up. Yay for me! Even though I felt better, I was really tired, so I went upstairs and told Melisa to wake me up in 10 minutes. That was about 5:30.
I woke up on my own at 7:00 or so. I felt good, even though everything was still a blur. I went downstairs and everyone was getting ready to head out to town. I really wasn't ready to pack it in for the night so early, so I put on my all-stars and went out with them. We found a really nice bar in the city with a good band and just hung out there for the night. Like I said before, there weren't really any surprises here. We talked and we drank. A gay guy hit on me. The band was pretty good. I guess the only real surprise here was that I actually danced. Even though the band was playing music which is pretty much impossible to dance to, we thought that swing dancing was the most appropriate, so we got out there and I tried my best to remember my couple of dancing lessons with Sara Petty back in the States, and I think I did a pretty damn good job. At least no girls turned me down for a dance.
So the night started wrapping up and we grabbed some KFC before we got home. We talked politics while we ate. We got a cab home because our legs were absolutely wrecked from the days activities, and we all went to bed quietly. Oh what a good sleep.
The next day, for some odd reason, we were awake at 8:00, and after some breakfast, the three of us amigos drove down to the Gold Coast where we spent the day looking at the ground and sitting on the beach in the sun. We were all so tired. We couldn't even wake up enough to truly have fun, so we just called it a day and drove home, vowing to go back some other weekend when we can have lots of fun with lots of stories to tell. Ooohh ooo! Wait a minute. One good story. I went into Red Rooster (which is like chick-fil-a) and the guy that took my order looked exactly like the mad hatter from Alice in Wonderland. His hair was dyed black and blonde, and it was pouring out from underneath his work hat from all directions. He had wide crazy eyes and bucked teeth sticking out from underneath his lips. Uncanny, really.
So I hope everyone else enjoyed their Australia Day. I'll be waiting to hear all the great stories from up north.
Jan 22, 2007
In your dreams
I've always been pretty fascinated with dreams. For the most part, it seems like I'm more in touch with my dreams than a lot of people. I have a lot of lucid dreams where I can control what I do, and I have a lot of dreams where I'm dying, and I wake up short of breath, sweating and clutching my chest... or punching walls.
In return, I also have a lot of stupid dreams. Last night I woke up probably 10-15 times imagining that there were bugs on me. Sometimes I was dreaming that they were coming after me, and sometimes I felt in real life like there was something itching my leg. Being Australia, the latter could be more true (especially the spot on my arm that started searing with pain and itchiness).
I was sick and tired of the dreams, and I was grumpy that we have to go to class early this morning, so I went downstairs and grabbed some orange juice, walked around and went back to bed.
When I did so, I remember having the most vivid dream. It's especially odd since it was the first thing I dreamt after going back to bed, and those are usually either gone in the morning or are about random things from the day before. This dream I had, it wasn't anything exciting, but it had me walking down a staircase at my old elementary school, both sides lined with people from my past. Many of the people I saw, I couldn't remember their names, but their faces were so clear to me. I would walk up to each person in turn and look them right in the eyes. I would look at the freckles on their cheeks. I would look at and feel their hair. It was as if I was looking at an exact photograph of them 10 or so years ago, with every single detail intact.
Then whenever I walked up to someone whose name I had forgotten, but now remembered their face, when I looked into their eyes, I would see in them all of the things that we used to do together. Most of them were in elementary school, just playing on the playground, but each person had something new that I had forgotten about with them.
I don't really know what the dream means, but it just baffles me that something like that can happen. I'm not saying I'm some sort of super genius, but if we DO usually only use 10% of our brains, and most of your brain mass is used for storing information and memories, then is your brain really just retaining every tiny bit of information you ever come across just incase?
And is it possible, via dreams or drugs or machines to tap into that part of the brain and either have the person recall it in an awake or dream state? Or can machines even learn to read the information, and create an exponentially large database of everything in the world, and thus take us over and kill us all like almost every science fiction movie ever made predicts?
Even with the grim possibilities of a total mecha-android takeover, I still offer this challenge: $25 to any man/woman/monkey that can build me a machine that can either a) let me delve into the depths of my mind every single night to recall vivid dreams of times past (instead of damn spiders) or b) let me record my dreams. I think the cash reward should be plenty, seems how I'm giving you the idea (which I actually came up with many many years ago) for free since I could never find enough money to patent it myself. If said work is done, comment back on this here blog with your contact information. Once photos of prototypes and schematics are exchanged, and successful test results mapped out on a willing human being, the $25 will be sent to you in a plain white envelope marked "MONEY".
Now, go out there and do your best, and let me know what you come up with. And remember: Keep dreaming.
In return, I also have a lot of stupid dreams. Last night I woke up probably 10-15 times imagining that there were bugs on me. Sometimes I was dreaming that they were coming after me, and sometimes I felt in real life like there was something itching my leg. Being Australia, the latter could be more true (especially the spot on my arm that started searing with pain and itchiness).
I was sick and tired of the dreams, and I was grumpy that we have to go to class early this morning, so I went downstairs and grabbed some orange juice, walked around and went back to bed.
When I did so, I remember having the most vivid dream. It's especially odd since it was the first thing I dreamt after going back to bed, and those are usually either gone in the morning or are about random things from the day before. This dream I had, it wasn't anything exciting, but it had me walking down a staircase at my old elementary school, both sides lined with people from my past. Many of the people I saw, I couldn't remember their names, but their faces were so clear to me. I would walk up to each person in turn and look them right in the eyes. I would look at the freckles on their cheeks. I would look at and feel their hair. It was as if I was looking at an exact photograph of them 10 or so years ago, with every single detail intact.
Then whenever I walked up to someone whose name I had forgotten, but now remembered their face, when I looked into their eyes, I would see in them all of the things that we used to do together. Most of them were in elementary school, just playing on the playground, but each person had something new that I had forgotten about with them.
I don't really know what the dream means, but it just baffles me that something like that can happen. I'm not saying I'm some sort of super genius, but if we DO usually only use 10% of our brains, and most of your brain mass is used for storing information and memories, then is your brain really just retaining every tiny bit of information you ever come across just incase?
And is it possible, via dreams or drugs or machines to tap into that part of the brain and either have the person recall it in an awake or dream state? Or can machines even learn to read the information, and create an exponentially large database of everything in the world, and thus take us over and kill us all like almost every science fiction movie ever made predicts?
Even with the grim possibilities of a total mecha-android takeover, I still offer this challenge: $25 to any man/woman/monkey that can build me a machine that can either a) let me delve into the depths of my mind every single night to recall vivid dreams of times past (instead of damn spiders) or b) let me record my dreams. I think the cash reward should be plenty, seems how I'm giving you the idea (which I actually came up with many many years ago) for free since I could never find enough money to patent it myself. If said work is done, comment back on this here blog with your contact information. Once photos of prototypes and schematics are exchanged, and successful test results mapped out on a willing human being, the $25 will be sent to you in a plain white envelope marked "MONEY".
Now, go out there and do your best, and let me know what you come up with. And remember: Keep dreaming.
Jan 19, 2007
McNaught's Comet
Just a little something here that all of you northern-hemispherers might've missed out on.
This is McNaught's Comet and it's been around for the last couple of days. It's really amazing to see, especially since you can only see it around sunset, so the sky paints a nice colorful background for it. Supposedly though, this was supposed to be the brightest comet anyone has seen in the past 40 years (and a lot brighter than Haley's Comet in 1986) at least, and probably longer. If it did pass across the northern hemisphere and you got to see it, then I'm glad, cause it was really something to see down here.
This is McNaught's Comet and it's been around for the last couple of days. It's really amazing to see, especially since you can only see it around sunset, so the sky paints a nice colorful background for it. Supposedly though, this was supposed to be the brightest comet anyone has seen in the past 40 years (and a lot brighter than Haley's Comet in 1986) at least, and probably longer. If it did pass across the northern hemisphere and you got to see it, then I'm glad, cause it was really something to see down here.
Jan 14, 2007
Part 4:The Cross
Before I get into this last post here, I'd like to throw this in here: In today's world, where there's social networking all over the internet and in every facet of people's lives, it becomes so much easier to run across people from your past, which in most occasions is a good thing, but in most cases it reminds me more and more of how compared to so many people that I see, getting married, having kids, getting good jobs and growing up, it makes me reflect more on what I'm doing with my life, whereas a couple years ago, I never would've looked back. It kinda reminds me of Weezer's song where they sing: The world has turned and left me here; Just where I was before you appeared, and in your place an empty space has filled the void behind my face. I know I have nothing to be ashamed of in my life, but sometimes the light of reality can be harsh and bright.
The subject of people coming and going leads well into the last part of the story from my trip to Sydney. I had spent most of the trip just taking everything in. Sydney is one of the most beautiful cities I've ever seen. It's amazing what can happen when a government spends it's money on beautification instead of destruction. That's not a political statement as much as it is a fact. If you want to see what I mean, just come down to Sydney. There's hundreds of zoos and aquariums for education of their unique land, and the entire harbour area is strewn with art and water works where parents can bring their kids to play. There's large expanses of grass in the middle of it all with plenty of trees for shade where anyone can kick back and spend the entire day reading a book, watching people bustle about by the water. Absolutely gorgeous.
For the next two days, I didn't really do anything. I walked around town, sitting in cafes and watching people. Most of the time I might even call it boring, and maybe it was just the fact that I was out on my own in a new place, but a wave of happiness swelled over me. It had been forever since I had felt so awake and alert. I had a permanent smile on my face.
On the last night that I had there, I was completely content with just taking it easy, so I jumped into bed and listened to music, starting to drift off, when the door opened. One of the girls that was staying in the room peeked her head in and we both said hi. I still hadn't said a single word to these girls. We sat there in silence as I listened to my music, but as she kept looking around the room with a bored face, I felt like being social and started up talking to her. Her english was a little broken, but it didn't really matter because I could still see how absolutely beautiful she was. I was already kicking myself for not talking to her sooner. She was really nice and reached into a bag she had and offered me a wine cooler. Surely.
It turns out that all three of the girls were getting really bored in the town and were looking for a fun night out. Apparently they thought I was going to help them out with that, so I thought I'd give it a try. It really isn't hard to find something to do in our part of town: Kings Cross.
It used to be a nice part of town, evidenced by the Ferrari and Maserati dealerships right next to our hostel, but in recent years, it's become known as the red light district throughout Sydney. You walk up the main street from our hostel and not more than 200 yards away, you hit the gigantic Coca-Cola sign, a pre-requisite for any large city in the world. If you turn right, that's the gay district. Not what I said, it's basically advertised as such. Even if you just walk down the street, it's pretty much assumed that you're gay, something I found out from all the glances I got. If you turn left at the big sign, that's where you find the strip clubs, hookers, sex shops and a really good fruit and yogurt stand.
The girls wanted to go dancing so we found a nice club and settled in and started having a few drinks. We were talking and laughing and having an awesome time. I could tell that one of the girls kinda liked me, so when they wanted to get up and dance, even though every past experience in my life was telling me "no", the look on her face said "yes". I got up and we started dacing around like idiots, or at least I looked like an idiot, and they looked like idiots because they were with me, but after a few songs, the girl that seemed to like me (her name is Frida by the way) and I started dancing together and after a while, we were making out like a couple of little kids getting their first kiss (though I hope it was a lot more graceful).
For the rest of the night, we were inseperable. After we left the club, and were walking back, we were talking shit and everything each of us said always seemed to make the other laugh hysterically. We all got a snack and walked back to the hostel, and while the other girls went inside to go to bed and talk to guys in the common room, Frida and I stayed outside and watched the hookers as they came back from their night out. They looked exhausted and spent, yet even right in front of our eyes, more guys would pick them up. It was disgusting and embarassing and funny as hell. We sat there outside until the sun came up (which wasn't really that long at all) and then went in to bed.
The next morning, we had to be checked out by 10, so we didn't get much sleep. My mind was still gone, and I was slightly tipsy from the night before, but I still had a huge smile on my face. Frida's whole family also had to be checked out that morning to go to another hotel in town, and since my flight left late that night, they were nice enough to let me hang out with them for the day. I can't explain how much fun it was, especially with their father's extremely broken english: "I will move you". When it came time to leave, I was just sick and tired of goodbyes. I'd said too many of them on the trip, and I never wanted to say it to any of the people I'd met, but I guess I had to get back to Byron and get on with it.
The subject of people coming and going leads well into the last part of the story from my trip to Sydney. I had spent most of the trip just taking everything in. Sydney is one of the most beautiful cities I've ever seen. It's amazing what can happen when a government spends it's money on beautification instead of destruction. That's not a political statement as much as it is a fact. If you want to see what I mean, just come down to Sydney. There's hundreds of zoos and aquariums for education of their unique land, and the entire harbour area is strewn with art and water works where parents can bring their kids to play. There's large expanses of grass in the middle of it all with plenty of trees for shade where anyone can kick back and spend the entire day reading a book, watching people bustle about by the water. Absolutely gorgeous.
For the next two days, I didn't really do anything. I walked around town, sitting in cafes and watching people. Most of the time I might even call it boring, and maybe it was just the fact that I was out on my own in a new place, but a wave of happiness swelled over me. It had been forever since I had felt so awake and alert. I had a permanent smile on my face.
On the last night that I had there, I was completely content with just taking it easy, so I jumped into bed and listened to music, starting to drift off, when the door opened. One of the girls that was staying in the room peeked her head in and we both said hi. I still hadn't said a single word to these girls. We sat there in silence as I listened to my music, but as she kept looking around the room with a bored face, I felt like being social and started up talking to her. Her english was a little broken, but it didn't really matter because I could still see how absolutely beautiful she was. I was already kicking myself for not talking to her sooner. She was really nice and reached into a bag she had and offered me a wine cooler. Surely.
It turns out that all three of the girls were getting really bored in the town and were looking for a fun night out. Apparently they thought I was going to help them out with that, so I thought I'd give it a try. It really isn't hard to find something to do in our part of town: Kings Cross.
It used to be a nice part of town, evidenced by the Ferrari and Maserati dealerships right next to our hostel, but in recent years, it's become known as the red light district throughout Sydney. You walk up the main street from our hostel and not more than 200 yards away, you hit the gigantic Coca-Cola sign, a pre-requisite for any large city in the world. If you turn right, that's the gay district. Not what I said, it's basically advertised as such. Even if you just walk down the street, it's pretty much assumed that you're gay, something I found out from all the glances I got. If you turn left at the big sign, that's where you find the strip clubs, hookers, sex shops and a really good fruit and yogurt stand.
The girls wanted to go dancing so we found a nice club and settled in and started having a few drinks. We were talking and laughing and having an awesome time. I could tell that one of the girls kinda liked me, so when they wanted to get up and dance, even though every past experience in my life was telling me "no", the look on her face said "yes". I got up and we started dacing around like idiots, or at least I looked like an idiot, and they looked like idiots because they were with me, but after a few songs, the girl that seemed to like me (her name is Frida by the way) and I started dancing together and after a while, we were making out like a couple of little kids getting their first kiss (though I hope it was a lot more graceful).
For the rest of the night, we were inseperable. After we left the club, and were walking back, we were talking shit and everything each of us said always seemed to make the other laugh hysterically. We all got a snack and walked back to the hostel, and while the other girls went inside to go to bed and talk to guys in the common room, Frida and I stayed outside and watched the hookers as they came back from their night out. They looked exhausted and spent, yet even right in front of our eyes, more guys would pick them up. It was disgusting and embarassing and funny as hell. We sat there outside until the sun came up (which wasn't really that long at all) and then went in to bed.
The next morning, we had to be checked out by 10, so we didn't get much sleep. My mind was still gone, and I was slightly tipsy from the night before, but I still had a huge smile on my face. Frida's whole family also had to be checked out that morning to go to another hotel in town, and since my flight left late that night, they were nice enough to let me hang out with them for the day. I can't explain how much fun it was, especially with their father's extremely broken english: "I will move you". When it came time to leave, I was just sick and tired of goodbyes. I'd said too many of them on the trip, and I never wanted to say it to any of the people I'd met, but I guess I had to get back to Byron and get on with it.
Jan 8, 2007
Part 3: Boxing Day and the Move Across Town
Since I put up part 2, I've been sleeplessly spending the last couple days trying to figure out what Boxing Day is, only to find out that it has nothing to do with underwear, sports, dogs OR kangaroos. But it did herald in the arrival of Dylan, after his long journey home; through the mountains of Colorado, over the Pass of Eisengard, battling against orcs all the way, and back home to Sydney. It was a triumphant return, and we celebrated by drinking a lot, again, and having a barbecue, the first proper one that I had had since I got to Australia. All the relatives from Christmas Eve were there again, so I chatted with them a lot, especially his aunt that hardly speaks a word of english, but they were trying to get me to talk to her in German once they found out that I "could". I talked to her for about 5 minutes straight in German, then collapsed on the floor in a heap. It was probably the most continuous German I've ever spoken, even after staying in Germany for a month straight.
We spent the rest of the day kicking back and watching cricket (and I snuck in some american football to blow their minds), then once all the relatives had left we opened presents and started watching Lost from season 1, episode 1, so now I have to see the rest. Damn them.
Then, the next morning, it was time for me to ove across town to my backpackers hostel. They kept insisting that I could stay there for the rest of the trip, but I figured it'd be best to break out and see the city more, even though I'll probably get back and visit them in the future. I hopped a bus into the city and got to my hostel around midday, then immediately set back out. I figured the most logical place to go was the Sydney Opera House, so I walked over that way. This place is beautiful, by the way, if you've never seen it, which kinda surprised me that there wasn't more tourists packed in around there.
I took a couple laps around it, and went inside, but I was too cheap to pay for the tour just to see the concert hall. Instead I spent my money on a nice cold beer at a cafe by the opera house and sat there, taking in the sight of the opera house and the harbour bridge.
Once again feeling slightly disappointed that beer doesn't affect me here, I sauntered off to the botanical gardens to wander through the shade on a hot hot day. The botanical gardens were big and beautiful. Hundreds of plants and flowers from all over the world line both sides of the path, and there's lots of wildlife living in there too. Especially bats. The only thing that really comes to mind is Batman Begins, when he goes into the cave and all the bats circle around him. Of course that didn't happen, but I'd guess there was probably about twice that many bats in the Gardens. There was also a skywriter flying far overhead who wrote SAGEM in the sky. I don't know what it meant really, but I suddenly had the urge to pull down my pants some.
After the Gardens had worn thin on me, I skipped across town to the Queen Victoria Building to do some shopping. Really, though, the 5-story tall QVB is just one part of this gigantic shopping center, that then goes underground and connect to other buildings and food courts, which will take you halfway across town. Shopping is one thing that Sydney got right. I eventually even found my way over to Chinatown where I found some dirt cheap clothes (which ironically enough were probably made in China by underpaid workers... does anyone see the problem with that?) and went down the main restaurant strip. I absolutely love chinese food, so my tastebuds were jumping as I walked through, smelling the smells. I steeles down to eat outside and ordered some BBQ duck. Mmmm... exquisite. They really know how to make chinese food in Chinatown. And you can quote me on that.
I started walking back to my hostel, and realized that I had done all that, and it was still only 7 o'clock. I had a little time to kill, so as I was walking back, I saw a table set up outside of a grocery store. I walked straight past it, but as I glanced back a little, I saw that it was Scientologists, giving people free stress tests. I don't know how there wasn't a wait... it's free, people! but I thought I'd have a little fun, so I went and sat down and introduced myself. The guy hands me two metal cylinders, which look like pop cans without any labels.
"Alright, Paul, I'm gonna ask you some questions, and you can take a while to answer, but these will give me a readout of how you're feeling about what I ask." Simple enough. "Do you have a girlfriend?" BAM! This guy doesn't mess around. I lift my ass up and fix my shorts, and the meter jumps. "Whoa! That's stress right there!" I settle in, and answer his questions, and for the next 5 minutes, the needle doesn't move at all. He keeps asking me more questions about girls, trying to invoke a response, but nothing. Then I start to get a little bored, and I start to move the little cans further apart, then closer to each other, trying not to let them hit, and the needle starts jumping with my rhythm. Now I get it.
So in the end, he tells me I don't have very much stress (though he somehow predicted I had an IQ of 125), but if I'd like, I could still buy the book Dianetics for just $16. I was actually kinda tempted just because it was the cheapest book that I'd seen since coming to Australia, but in the end, I declined and walked away.
I swung by the hostel to take a quick shower, then went and saw Babel. It was pretty good, and if I haven't said it before, Australian movie theaters beat the hell out of American ones. I got back to the hostel late, and found three beautiful girls sleeping in the beds around me...
We spent the rest of the day kicking back and watching cricket (and I snuck in some american football to blow their minds), then once all the relatives had left we opened presents and started watching Lost from season 1, episode 1, so now I have to see the rest. Damn them.
Then, the next morning, it was time for me to ove across town to my backpackers hostel. They kept insisting that I could stay there for the rest of the trip, but I figured it'd be best to break out and see the city more, even though I'll probably get back and visit them in the future. I hopped a bus into the city and got to my hostel around midday, then immediately set back out. I figured the most logical place to go was the Sydney Opera House, so I walked over that way. This place is beautiful, by the way, if you've never seen it, which kinda surprised me that there wasn't more tourists packed in around there.
I took a couple laps around it, and went inside, but I was too cheap to pay for the tour just to see the concert hall. Instead I spent my money on a nice cold beer at a cafe by the opera house and sat there, taking in the sight of the opera house and the harbour bridge.
Once again feeling slightly disappointed that beer doesn't affect me here, I sauntered off to the botanical gardens to wander through the shade on a hot hot day. The botanical gardens were big and beautiful. Hundreds of plants and flowers from all over the world line both sides of the path, and there's lots of wildlife living in there too. Especially bats. The only thing that really comes to mind is Batman Begins, when he goes into the cave and all the bats circle around him. Of course that didn't happen, but I'd guess there was probably about twice that many bats in the Gardens. There was also a skywriter flying far overhead who wrote SAGEM in the sky. I don't know what it meant really, but I suddenly had the urge to pull down my pants some.
After the Gardens had worn thin on me, I skipped across town to the Queen Victoria Building to do some shopping. Really, though, the 5-story tall QVB is just one part of this gigantic shopping center, that then goes underground and connect to other buildings and food courts, which will take you halfway across town. Shopping is one thing that Sydney got right. I eventually even found my way over to Chinatown where I found some dirt cheap clothes (which ironically enough were probably made in China by underpaid workers... does anyone see the problem with that?) and went down the main restaurant strip. I absolutely love chinese food, so my tastebuds were jumping as I walked through, smelling the smells. I steeles down to eat outside and ordered some BBQ duck. Mmmm... exquisite. They really know how to make chinese food in Chinatown. And you can quote me on that.
I started walking back to my hostel, and realized that I had done all that, and it was still only 7 o'clock. I had a little time to kill, so as I was walking back, I saw a table set up outside of a grocery store. I walked straight past it, but as I glanced back a little, I saw that it was Scientologists, giving people free stress tests. I don't know how there wasn't a wait... it's free, people! but I thought I'd have a little fun, so I went and sat down and introduced myself. The guy hands me two metal cylinders, which look like pop cans without any labels.
"Alright, Paul, I'm gonna ask you some questions, and you can take a while to answer, but these will give me a readout of how you're feeling about what I ask." Simple enough. "Do you have a girlfriend?" BAM! This guy doesn't mess around. I lift my ass up and fix my shorts, and the meter jumps. "Whoa! That's stress right there!" I settle in, and answer his questions, and for the next 5 minutes, the needle doesn't move at all. He keeps asking me more questions about girls, trying to invoke a response, but nothing. Then I start to get a little bored, and I start to move the little cans further apart, then closer to each other, trying not to let them hit, and the needle starts jumping with my rhythm. Now I get it.
So in the end, he tells me I don't have very much stress (though he somehow predicted I had an IQ of 125), but if I'd like, I could still buy the book Dianetics for just $16. I was actually kinda tempted just because it was the cheapest book that I'd seen since coming to Australia, but in the end, I declined and walked away.
I swung by the hostel to take a quick shower, then went and saw Babel. It was pretty good, and if I haven't said it before, Australian movie theaters beat the hell out of American ones. I got back to the hostel late, and found three beautiful girls sleeping in the beds around me...
Jan 5, 2007
Part 2: Christmas Day
I'm sorry about that last post. I tried my best, but it'd pretty much impossible to recreate the insanity of that night in writing. At least the next day was a little more calm...
Everyone got up late the next morning. It seemed that I was the only one that wasn't nursing a hangover (hahahahaha!) so everyone wanted to take it easy. Dylan's mom Julia had a plan to take me over the Bondi Beach (probably the most famous beach in Australia) and then to Waverly Cemetery. Despite pleas from Myles and his father trying to get her not to take me to the cemetery, I thought it sounded like a fine, relaxing way to spend a Christmas. Julia and I packed up some sandwiches using leftovers from the night before and set out around midday to get to Bondi.
I wasn't really sure what a beach would look like on Christmas day, but when we rounded the corner into town, the beach was absolutely crawling with backpackers, and these damn, creepy street performers dressed up as bugs.
We stood there people-watching for a good long while, talking about life, love and The Pursuit of Happyness, grabbed a cup of coffee at Segafredo and kept walking around, where we ran into an awesome graffiti wall, with hundreds of safe sex paintings, and one very cool hot dog on it. I started to realize how cool it was that Australia does this sort of stuff for their kids. It looks good and it's educational!
After we were done looking around, we drove up to the cemetery. I guess there's not really much to say except that it was absolutely MASSIVE. We walked past rows and rows of the dead. Julia tells me that as a way to give the starving artists of the city work, either the cemetery or the families of the deceased would ask the artists to carve out statues for the headstones. Some families even had huge tombs for everyone through the generations, vast caverns made of marble, each one still shining in the sun like the day it was erected.
We sat down on a bench and munched on our sandwiches, looking out on the ocean past all the headstones. Some might find it to be a creepy way to spend Christmas, but it thought it was pretty surreal, and I started to think that maybe I'd rather be there amongst the peaceful dead, than amongst the thousands of kids down below at Bondi.
Everyone got up late the next morning. It seemed that I was the only one that wasn't nursing a hangover (hahahahaha!) so everyone wanted to take it easy. Dylan's mom Julia had a plan to take me over the Bondi Beach (probably the most famous beach in Australia) and then to Waverly Cemetery. Despite pleas from Myles and his father trying to get her not to take me to the cemetery, I thought it sounded like a fine, relaxing way to spend a Christmas. Julia and I packed up some sandwiches using leftovers from the night before and set out around midday to get to Bondi.
I wasn't really sure what a beach would look like on Christmas day, but when we rounded the corner into town, the beach was absolutely crawling with backpackers, and these damn, creepy street performers dressed up as bugs.
We stood there people-watching for a good long while, talking about life, love and The Pursuit of Happyness, grabbed a cup of coffee at Segafredo and kept walking around, where we ran into an awesome graffiti wall, with hundreds of safe sex paintings, and one very cool hot dog on it. I started to realize how cool it was that Australia does this sort of stuff for their kids. It looks good and it's educational!
After we were done looking around, we drove up to the cemetery. I guess there's not really much to say except that it was absolutely MASSIVE. We walked past rows and rows of the dead. Julia tells me that as a way to give the starving artists of the city work, either the cemetery or the families of the deceased would ask the artists to carve out statues for the headstones. Some families even had huge tombs for everyone through the generations, vast caverns made of marble, each one still shining in the sun like the day it was erected.
We sat down on a bench and munched on our sandwiches, looking out on the ocean past all the headstones. Some might find it to be a creepy way to spend Christmas, but it thought it was pretty surreal, and I started to think that maybe I'd rather be there amongst the peaceful dead, than amongst the thousands of kids down below at Bondi.
Jan 4, 2007
Part 1: Christmas Eve
I have this idea that sometime in the coming week, I'll recap my entire Christmas vacation right here, but I get the feeling that I'll get about halfway through and give up. It'll probably come mid-sentence, like "so she's spinning around the pole half-naked when... man, this really sucks... I'm bored", so if that happens I'm sorry. The only reason I put such a goal forward is because I had an AWESOME Christmas vacation and so much great stuff happened that I want to share it all with you. Maybe it's best that I just begin at the beginning, with Christmas Eve, and the start of my vacation.
OK, now that I've started, it actually started much farther back. When I was still in the States, I met this guy Dylan from Australia and after some drinks and some talking, he invited me over to his house in Sydney for Christmas since I wouldn't be able to make it back to the States for Christmas. I was really stoked to have somewhere to be, but as the time got closer, Colorado didn't want Dylan to leave, and he got snowed in and couldn't fly out of Denver for a couple days. Since it was such late notice, I had already booked my flight down there, so I had to spend Christmas with Dylan's family alone, who I had never even met.
I wasn't nervous, really, since I had met so many new people in the past 2 months, but I just figured it would be 2 full days of awkwardness before Dylan got back. Not so, dear reader! I had an amazing time with them, and why wouldn't I? They were all so nice and funny. His brother Myles and I are about the same age, and we had a lot in common. His parents were really accommodating and they really did help me feel at home. But no sooner had I even sat down then they started telling me about going to their relatives house that night. We all hopped in the car and started driving across town, the whole time they were trying to describe to me how disfunctional their family was.
They told me about how everyone there were pretty much alcoholics. There's the grandma who digs into the schnapps. The aunt that "molests" all the young men that Dylan and Myles bring over. The grandpa that's 90 years old, losing his hearing, but sticking in there. The Austrian relatives that have no sense of humor, and the little kids that are supposedly little hell-raisers.
But even when I got there, everyone welcomed me with open arms. I sat down and met everyone, and started having a few drinks before we started dinner. I couldn't believe it. It was sooo good. We ate and ate and drank and drank. Instead of saying grace, we popped party poppers, and scratched lotto cards. The food was all delicious, and the potato salad... oh the potato salad. They got me hooked. Then one of their neighbors brought out a couple bottles of wine. They tell me he is THE man to talk to when it comes to wine, and he starts us off with a nice mix of white and red, then after dinner he gets out the Grange. Everyone talks about this like it's the holy grail of wine, but I had never heard of it (me with my extensive wine knowledge). They pour me a little and I go through the steps. Swirl it, sniff it, take the gum out of my mouth... I finally drink it and swish it around and it's delicious. Definitely the best wine I've ever tasted. Then he tells me it's only $400 a bottle. Oh. Good on ya. So that was probably my last brush with wine that good.
After everyone was good and buzzing, we sat down in the living room and started opening presents. It was great watching everyone open their presents. Their grandpa got a cellphone (at his request), then they took the next 30 minutes trying to tell him how to use it, even though he still couldn't hear it when it rang with all the commotion. They even gave me some presents! How nice. I especially liked Dylan's friend Snoop's gift, which was a condom tied to a can of beer. It's really the gift for all occasions.
When everyone was done, the night started to wind down, and slowly people left, including us. I managed to escape with only a minor ass grab from their aunt Marion, and we made it home safely even though half the people in the car were more than a little drunk and disorderly. It was a Christmas celebration to remember for sure. It was pretty much the complete opposite of what I'm used to, but I had so much fun, I'll forgive them for disgracing the true meaning of Christmas. Just kidding. They're Australians. They're there to have fun.
More to come!
OK, now that I've started, it actually started much farther back. When I was still in the States, I met this guy Dylan from Australia and after some drinks and some talking, he invited me over to his house in Sydney for Christmas since I wouldn't be able to make it back to the States for Christmas. I was really stoked to have somewhere to be, but as the time got closer, Colorado didn't want Dylan to leave, and he got snowed in and couldn't fly out of Denver for a couple days. Since it was such late notice, I had already booked my flight down there, so I had to spend Christmas with Dylan's family alone, who I had never even met.
I wasn't nervous, really, since I had met so many new people in the past 2 months, but I just figured it would be 2 full days of awkwardness before Dylan got back. Not so, dear reader! I had an amazing time with them, and why wouldn't I? They were all so nice and funny. His brother Myles and I are about the same age, and we had a lot in common. His parents were really accommodating and they really did help me feel at home. But no sooner had I even sat down then they started telling me about going to their relatives house that night. We all hopped in the car and started driving across town, the whole time they were trying to describe to me how disfunctional their family was.
They told me about how everyone there were pretty much alcoholics. There's the grandma who digs into the schnapps. The aunt that "molests" all the young men that Dylan and Myles bring over. The grandpa that's 90 years old, losing his hearing, but sticking in there. The Austrian relatives that have no sense of humor, and the little kids that are supposedly little hell-raisers.
But even when I got there, everyone welcomed me with open arms. I sat down and met everyone, and started having a few drinks before we started dinner. I couldn't believe it. It was sooo good. We ate and ate and drank and drank. Instead of saying grace, we popped party poppers, and scratched lotto cards. The food was all delicious, and the potato salad... oh the potato salad. They got me hooked. Then one of their neighbors brought out a couple bottles of wine. They tell me he is THE man to talk to when it comes to wine, and he starts us off with a nice mix of white and red, then after dinner he gets out the Grange. Everyone talks about this like it's the holy grail of wine, but I had never heard of it (me with my extensive wine knowledge). They pour me a little and I go through the steps. Swirl it, sniff it, take the gum out of my mouth... I finally drink it and swish it around and it's delicious. Definitely the best wine I've ever tasted. Then he tells me it's only $400 a bottle. Oh. Good on ya. So that was probably my last brush with wine that good.
After everyone was good and buzzing, we sat down in the living room and started opening presents. It was great watching everyone open their presents. Their grandpa got a cellphone (at his request), then they took the next 30 minutes trying to tell him how to use it, even though he still couldn't hear it when it rang with all the commotion. They even gave me some presents! How nice. I especially liked Dylan's friend Snoop's gift, which was a condom tied to a can of beer. It's really the gift for all occasions.
When everyone was done, the night started to wind down, and slowly people left, including us. I managed to escape with only a minor ass grab from their aunt Marion, and we made it home safely even though half the people in the car were more than a little drunk and disorderly. It was a Christmas celebration to remember for sure. It was pretty much the complete opposite of what I'm used to, but I had so much fun, I'll forgive them for disgracing the true meaning of Christmas. Just kidding. They're Australians. They're there to have fun.
More to come!
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