Oh God, how I love living here.  Kings Cross is such a fantastic, notorious, brightly-lit, amazing, fantastic place.  I'm in love, I really am.  Did you know the neon signs over some of the strip clubs are heritage-listed?  Did you know that my new local bar (50 metres from my new place, assuming I my rental application is approved) was the haunt of one of Australia's most notorious gangsters, who owned many of the nightclubs and strip clubs in the 60's?  A hotel down the road from me had Frank Sinatra stay there, and he famously called a female journalist a "two dollar whore" there in the 60's.  Tourists are everywhere.  Hookers stand on the street.  There's always filming going on for various ads, tv shows and movies all around.  It's just.. fucking.. awesome.  Nothing else like it in Australia.  AND Kings Cross is the most populated locality (it's not really a suburb) in Australia - 1.7kms big with 20,000 residents.  AND there's a huge neon Coca-Cola sign that's a very famous landmark, and it's totally near my house.  It's kind of like a little New York, I like to imagine.  Definitely the biggest, brightest, scariest, most wonderful city in Australia and I am IN. LOVE.

Heh.

What's been happening?  Oh God, lots of things.  Last night Ken and I went to karaoke at Stonewall - and I won!  $100, thanks very much.  Made some new friends, saw Stevie (the first guy I met when I moved to Sydney) who invited me, Ken and Aslam to his Halloween party.

I'm still job searching, but I've found an apartment I like.  I'm applying for it this week.  It's on the main street of Potts Point, just as the street turns into Darlinghurst Road (I think that's what it's called) which is basically the main strip of Kings Cross.  Pubs, restaurants, adult stores, strip clubs, nightclubs EVERYWHERE.  Internet cafes, hostels, 24 hour convenience stores, 24 hour McDonalds, and the train station all within 1km of my house!  Haha... God... I'm never going to want to live in a small city again.

We went out straight clubbing the other week... I hooked up with a guy who fed me speed and weed and who ended up being a drug dealer.  But a NICE drug dealer.  Haha.  I'm not going there again, but it was a fun adventure.  As Ken and I are each other's safety gurus I texted Ken this guy's name, number and address before I went home with him, and Ken called me and had a chat to him.  LOL we are sluts, but we're not stupid.  No way I'm going to a stranger's house in a new city without someone knowing exactly where I am.

Aslam and I walked into the city (about a 40 minute walk) to see the movie Up on Sunday.  It's a beautiful movie.  And God 3D has come a long way since I was a kid!  No more red/blue flimsy paper glasses... we had cute almost trendy polarised glasses with black frames.  I recommend you see Up if you like Pixar.. it's quite a beautiful story.  And the golden retriever/labrador in it has the mannerisms of a goldie down *perfectly* - reminded me so much of my dog, Escher, that I nearly had a tear.

I've also been having a lot of lazy down time, being the jobless hobo that I am.  I applied for a bunch of jobs tonight, and hopefully I'll be employed within the next 2-3 weeks.  Then I'll have my own little studio apartment, a job, and a couple of good mates.  And hopefully more good mates soon - I really like Stevie, and there's another guy I talk to at Stonewall named David, I think he and I could be good friends.  He's an older guy, in his 40's, and he's fascinating - from London originally, and he's an interpreter - he did a lot of interpreting for the German chancellor after the 9-11 attacks, and he also speaks French and Italian.  

Um... I have to go now, but just wanted to record some things for posterity.

Fiji - July 15th Fly Air Pacific from Brisbane-Fiji (roughly $250 with tax included)

Aquarius hostel, Nadi Bay. Roughly $22 AUD per night ($110 dollars for 5 nights)

Plus food, drinks and sight-seeing of roughly $750 for 5 nights.

Fiji = $1110

Then to Tonga - Fiji to Tonga on Air Pacific (roughly $220 with tax included)

Alibabas Guest House, Tongatapu. Roughly $24 AUD per nights ($120 dollars for 5 nights)

Plus food, drinks and sight-seeing of roughly $750 for 5 nights.

Tonga = $1090

Then to Samoa - Tonga to Samoa on Air Pacific (again roughly $220 with tax included)

Beach Fales (open to the air, really cheap) $20 AUD per night ($100 dollars for 5 nights)

Plus food, drinks and sight-seeing of roughly $750 for 5 nights.

Samoa = $1070

Total = 3270




 

The sun is staying out.  It's coming earlier and getting lower.  The day heats up; the chill in the morning patches of dappled shadows melts away to be replaced by warm air, warm sun, warm everything.

The sky gets bluer - richer, more gorgeous.  I look forlornly out the window and think: "beach day, not work day!"

My street continues to be dodgy and fascinating - so many in-between shelters, the homeless coughing and hacking through their morning cigarettes, their morning bourbon, their morning crack pipe.  Rich bastards 50 metres up the road in fancy terrace houses and fancy Audis and BMWs, gliding their air-conditioned latte-sipping classical-FM-arses to work past the hobos in their mismatched outfits.

I walk between the two worlds, not fitting into either.  Glad about not fitting into either.

There's still yelling and fighting on my street from time to time.  I've lost count of the times I've been screamed at in the street - always by old drunken men, always about sex.   The main streets of the city I live in are full of yelling, drunken people on the weekends.  I weave in and out of groups of people.  Some ignore me, some look at me, some say things, sometimes it's harmless and quite adorable (like a drunken, "YOUR EARRINGS ARE SHINY!" or "GOODNESS YOUR BREASTS ARE BIG!") and more often unsettling date-rapey comments or fat chick comments or just drunken babble.

Men like my breasts.  So do lesbians.

Since I've hurt my knee, one thing I really miss is wandering aimlessly through my streets, through the beautiful, bogan streets of my wonderful, flawed town.  After about half a kilometre my knee starts to ache.  It's getting better, but sooo slowly.  My right knee feels like it is made of raw spaghetti - it's holding, but ready to snap.

Weekends since I hurt my knee have been a time to curl up, protectively, at home.  My housemates and I splay ourselves all over the lounge room, leaving empty bottles and vast amounts of food-related mess for our sober selves to clean up in the morning.  We play board games.  We play Buzz! on playstation.  We laugh at ourselves and each other.  We put CDs on and dance around the house like idiots, singing into wooden spoons and egg whisks like they're microphones.  We watch bad reality TV and judge people harshly or love them obsessively.  Tim and I flirt.  Aslam and I flirt like good, kind, true friends and he tries to forget I am desperately in love with him and I try to forget that I am desperately in love with him and neither of us truly ever forgets, especially me, whose heart it has shredded so completely and unexpectedly and unfairly.  Jafar and I hang out with the good grace and familarity of a dear, gentle old married couple who never have sex and who really love each other so damn much it's ridiculous.

Friends visit - many of them crash overnight, because our tiny little house is that sort of house.  People sleep in my bed; I welcome it.  My bed has always been communal.  Not in the sex way, just in the ... sleep way.

I crush on people I shouldn't, I have sex with people who are fun and harmless, while secretly wishing they were just a little bit harmful.  I wish I was a lesbian so I could marry Savannah.  I wish I looked different.  I wish I were thin, just to see how differently those who love me would look at me. 

I miss my cat and want him in the unit with me, but that's never going to happen.  I long for pets.  A rat.  Fish, even.

I plan travel before I go to sleep, and I plan it when I wake up.  I spent hours at work planning my various stops.  From drinking Kansan beer with a newly rediscovered friend, to kidnapping Layla and making her come to Fiji with me, as both a wonderful holiday and the realisation of a fantastic private joke we've had for years.  I am looking forward to travelling, to getting away from my gorgeous Brisbane friends, only because I sometimes catch myself defining myself and how good a person I am by how much my friends love me and how much attention they give me. 

I want for nothing, really.  Compared to most of the world my life is lush and gorgeous.  But you know... always wanting more.  I want the summer here.  Bring on the heat, because this year, I can take it.

A guy I knew from my old job who was married facebook-mailed me this morning.  He has now broken up with his wife and would like to go out with me sometime.

Another guy I met while out a few months ago who had a girlfriend now does not have a girlfriend and we are having coffee this Wednesday.

Another guy I've been flirting with online is becoming quite a good mate (weirdly with Jafar as much as if not more) and he's... freaking awesome.  Crazy Asian architect, is how I'd refer to him.  Craziatect. 

A fourth guy and I are getting together next Monday for an old-fashioned date with dinner and candles and plentiful alcohol (what? that's romantic!).

It's bizarre... is it springtime already?  Mating season!

In other news, I hate Aslam. (again)

Basically, boys are stupid

My nan recently had a stroke.  After a battle, she passed away this morning.  She would have been 84 in September.  I travelled down to say goodbye, and I got to, and for that I'll always be thankful.  I'm going to the funeral next Thursday.

That's pretty much what I've got to say here. 

This morning a painter was at our front door, painting it.  The body corporate is getting the halls & doors painted.  We all had to leave for work this morning, and he was still there when we left.
We didn't have a choice, apparently.  There's a notice at the front of our apartments stating that the painter needs access to the house.
If anything's missing when I get home, I am going to hit the roof.

I have glandular fever, and have had it for the last month.  I will be back to full energy in about a fortnight.
REALLY explains why I've been so bloody exhausted on-and-off these last few weeks.
So... no fun entries about crazy drunken shenanigans for a few weeks, as all I'll be doing is working, going to the gym for gentle exercises, then coming home and watching DVDs.  YAWN.

In other news... there is no other news.  Seriously.  Boring.  Jafar had a date!  I approve of his date, he's my workmate's housemate.  Nice guy, stylish, knows to woo the hag along with the fag. 

GOD I'm bored.

1. I had Britney Spears' "Hot as Ice" stuck in my head all morning.  Luckily my brain has since replaced it with "Galvanise" by the Chemical Brothers.  Mmm, sweet sweet sound.

2. My friend Rik is giving me a CD full of samples he's done in the studio of dancey-underground-industrial sorts of songs.  My job is to create melodies and/or lyrics to go with the music and then possibly record.  Oooooooh!

3. Yesterday I spent HOURS stuck in traffic.  It was a nightmare.  Plus, a woman hit my car with her car.  Luckily it was just a tap and there's barely a scratch, but it gave me a bit of a shock and my body was shaking afterwards.  I wasn't afraid or upset, but my body just shook anyway.  Funny how sometimes you have no control over things.  I imagine it was adrenalin dissipating or some such thing.

4. The singing lesson was good.  I started learning a song from the Mikado which my teacher says suits me down to the ground.  She also noted that it is a very good audition song for musical theatre societies.  I love how she's preparing me for auditions - it's exactly what I wanted.

5. I'm really sick of talking to people on the phone and they say, "What's your name again?" and I say "Angelique" and they say either: "Andalee?" or "Angeline?" or "Angalee?" or "Wow, what a pretty name!"  It's ANNOYING!  Haha. So repetitive.  It's given me great sympathy for all customer service people, though, so that I always try to say something different to them if I'm on the phone or being served by them, la la. 

6. Nope, bloody "Hot as Ice" is back in my head again. DAMN IT, BRITNEY!

7. I asked the twins for ideas of things to Wikipedia at work today.  They came up with "shrinking heads" and "Paris Hilton".  HAHA.  Do YOU have any ideas, readers?

8. Will & Grace marathon this weekend, woo!

9. Gym appointment this afternoon... I'm ascaired.

10. http://icanhascheezburger.com is HILARIOUS.

Jafar and I began the night badly by getting KFC for dinner.  I didn't eat as much of it as I could have... but yeah, still bad!  We felt really sick afterward and sat there moaning for about an hour.  NEVER AGAIN. REMIND ME.  You know, I didn't even want it, but the more he talked about it, the more appealing it sounded.  He's usually really good at cooking me healthy foods and encouraging me to eat healthily, though, so that's not too bad.

Aslam came home soon after, a glowing picture of health from the 3-hour-a-day workouts he's doing at Zen Zen Zo.  He offered to take us down to the park and do some exercises with us, so we got changed, I put on my washing, then we walked down to the park. 

He took us through some really tough exercises, and we jogged and bounced and did sit ups for about half an hour, which was exhausting but oh so good.   I am at a very, very basic level of fitness - that sucks, but the only way is up, right?

Then we walked down to the wharf and took a ferry ride across the river, just for the hell of it (ohhh, how I love where I live!).  The fresh air blew on our faces and the water sparkled in the moonlight.

It was one of those brilliant evenings that happen without any planning whatsoever.  We bickered and enjoyed each other's company, and got some fresh air.  We ended up walking home, too, so it was a total of about 45-50 minutes exercise for me, which helps make me feel less defeated about the fatty dinner.

Tonight I'm going out with Martin... I told you about him a few weeks ago.  He's a boy, he's cute, I have no idea what's going on, but whatever.

Then after that, I'm going to the pub with the girls - woo!  But I'm NOT getting drunk.  I'm not.

xoxo

I seriously have nothing to write about!  Haha. 

My job is deathly boring... on the weight-loss front, I lost just under a kilo though in a week, so that's fun.  It would have been more had I not gotten ridiculously drunk on the weekend with pre-mixed cans of vodka, which are apparently stupidly high in sugar (am changing to vodka with diet coke from now on). Jafar and I are hanging out as incessantly as usual.  Aslam feels a bit distant lately, though I know what it is: his new passion, Zen Zen Zo.   Sometimes I have to remind myself that Aslam is like a cat - he'll come and want affection and love, but in his own time and on his own schedule.  It's frustrating, but he's not Jafar and I can't make him be as dependable as Jafar.  (Who is my rock. Seriously.)

We haven't found a house yet, frankly because we haven't really looked.  There's no point as we don't have the money to move for another month or so.  Jafar will be moving in with us for a couple of weeks because his lease runs out at the end of January.  This will be good.  We all argue from time to time, but mostly we tumble about, adoring each other.  I make them hug each other, with me as a buffer.  That way I get two hugs.  MWA HA HA.

Tuesday night was fun - we went to a pub quiz.  Bronwyn & John, Chris, Rob, Heather, Scott and the twins and I were all there.  Bronwyn & John, the twins, and I formed our own team (Gladiators, Ready!) and the others formed an opposing team (Challengers, Ready!) and... WE WON!  Thanks mostly to John & Bronwyn, but still.  WE WON!  We got an $80 bar/food tab to use at the hotel.  We're going to use most of it to purchase Australia Day drinks, which is quite a nice segue...

...I'm having a massive Australia Day BBQ at New Farm Park on Saturday the 26th (Australia Day, duh).  New Farm Park is beautiful with big leafy trees, BBQs, picnic tables, green grass and the lovely river alongside.  Jafar and I are seriously going to get there at about 7am to secure an excellent spot.  We've invited pretty much everyone, and told them to bring stuff like sports equipment, food, eskies (coolers) and so on.  It's going to be an all-day event!  I'm pretty excited.  I love Australia Day.  Jafar and I bought Aussie flags the other day, and I bought an Aussie beer-bottle holder, and Jafar bought an exceptionally unfashionable Australian flag baseball cap.  SO tacky, love it.

Now, I just need to meet some straight guys. Le sigh!

Monday morning, back to the grind. 

The weekend was eventful - Saturday night Jafar and I dressed up like insane people - faux-trendy clothes, fluro 80's style shirts the kids are all wearing these days, with glowstick bracelets and fluro fake hair extensions.  We partied hard, people.  It was so much fun - ran into a bunch of mates, danced a bit, drank a LOT, and generally caused mischief.

The two bad points were: getting kicked out of a normally very laid-back gay pub for wearing glowstick bracelets (can you believe it? I'm writing angry letters.. they said glowsticks "represent a culture that we don't appreciate" (i.e. ecstasy users)), and me feeling very down at the end of the night and wanting to leave RIGHT THIS MINUTE.  I occasionally get like this once I've consumed my body weight in alcohol and am just tired, and drunk, and know I'm too drunk, and just want to be curled up in bed.

But, good night.  The next day involved much lazing about, bacon eggs mushroom and tomato, and sleep.  The twins and I watched Nightmare On Elm St 3: The Dream Warriors, which was made the year they were born, which makes me feel old, and we enjoyed it very much.  I love those old crappy low-budget horror movies... and Patricia Arquette as a teenager is adorable - the twins only know her from her housewifely Medium role, and so were quite charmed by baby Patricia.

I'm seriously writing angry letters about the glowstick incident - I understand if we're wearing something that breaks the dress code, but as far as I'm aware there are no legal restrictions on JEWELLRY one chooses to wear.  I'd like to see them disciplining their performing drag queens for wearing inappropriate clothing, or making drug-culture injokes at every opportunity.  Plus, the guy who told us to take them off started off by saying, "Hi! *grabs bracelet* Management thinks these are tacky, and so do I!"  Honestly, if "tacky" is an excuse to kick someone out of the Wickham, that place would be half-empty pretty much all of the time... 

Okay.  Going now, but love you guys!

P.S. Totally broke my calorie count for the week... must cut down on alcohol!

For LJers: my year's plans involve improving my fitness, improving my singing, maybe auditioning for musicals, possible auditioning for Cirque Du Soleil, and generally being happier.  "Aslam" is the name of my best friend's twin brother who is a close friend and also my house mate.  In case you were wondering.  My current job is an easy call centre contract position.

I spent a feverish hour looking over the Cirque Du Soleil website this morning at work.  I got so excited I cried a little.  I feel that there is a big part of me that needs artistic expression - I've never felt it more than at this job.  It's so dull.  It's not even that - there's only so much I can do at this job.  I can only do my job when people call, otherwise I'm waiting in stasis for people to call so I can do my job.  There's no challenge, no drive, no fire.  It's DULL.  But, but, but.  The money is good and it's mostly agreeable work.

I need the money.  And it's good, really good, money.  (Compared to other jobs I have had.)

Aslam's amazing life right now is also driving me to express myself artistically a little more.  It's inspiring to hear about his adventure-filled days with one of the leading physical theatre companies in the southern hemisphere.  I want to do that!  I want to top that!  Only, musically!  (Sidenote: Zen Zen Zo, the physical theatre company Aslam is interning for, supported the Dresden Dolls at their last performance in Brisbane.  Aslam knows people who KNOW Amanda Palmer.  I can't tell you how shivery that makes me.)

What have I been up to lately?  Last night I went out for dinner and a pub quiz with Chris, Rob and a bunch of Rob's workmates.  Chris and I had a great deal of fun, but next time we go we're forming our OWN team as the rest of them get all competitive and narky - it's a freaking pub quiz, people, why argue?  A woman at our table won $500 on the pokies (note: this is what Australians and possibly the English call slot machines) and kept buying us drinks, so my one Blue Skyy Vodka Blood Orange Grapefruit and Soda delicious drink turned into four, and I only stopped because I made myself.  Chris and I plan to come back next Tuesday night and get fantastically tipsy, name our two-person team "Team Vaginadoodle" and take the piss out of everyone.

Tonight's plans involve me going to my first meeting of Weight Watchers.  Yeah, I thought I'd give it a go.  It's a bit middle-aged housewife, but I feel I need support and I'm sure not going to get it from two naturally-thin twins who keep telling me they're craving KFC, why don't we eat KFC for dinner?  Then I'm off to see my sister and my increasingly adorable 4 month old nephew, Joshua.

Oh, funny thing that happened last night.  The guy at my local petrol station saw me come in alone to pay for petrol and said, "Where's the boy?"  I said, "Sorry?" He explained that every time I've ever seen him I've come in with a boy (Aslam).  I said, "Oh, we're not hanging out for once."  He said, "So is that a friend? Boyfriend?" I replied, "Er... he's a friend" and then the petrol station man said "Ohh, good to know."  I left, baffled.  Is he gay and into Aslam?  Straight and into me?  Curious and into neither of us?  Passing a comment on how freaking joined at the hip Aslam and I are?  Weird, the questions people ask.

In my (plentiful) spare time at work I've been reading caitriona's opendiary from the beginning - way before I knew her.  I'm reading her because I'm bored, but also because she's fun and bouncy and writes beautifully.  At the moment I'm reading about how she and Julia are poor and in London in 2002.  Aarika, Adam, Schwa and Sunil all note, which makes me so freaking nostalgic about the community we used to have here that I could just cry. 

I am finding myself craving travel, craving fitness, craving a singing career, and while I'm still not entirely sure how to go about it, I'm making some progress.  I'm eating slightly healthier.  I promised myself I'd walk to work tomorrow morning.  I have my first singing lesson tomorrow evening.  Travel?  I can't plan that in advance... right now all my money is being saved towards a rental bond for our new house that we still haven't found.

Man, writing this much is tiring.  It's been a while.

Love to all.

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Well.

Guess what I did Monday night?

I SAW THE INDIGO GIRLS.

The duo I've been wanting to see live for the past DECADE.

And they were amazing. 

Simply gorgeous.

They played "Watershed" which is my favourite IG song and one of my favourite songs of all time.

They played "Least Complicated", "Power of Two", "Galileo", "Closer to Fine", "Kid Fears", "Go", "Shame on You"... all these memories, these beautiful harmonies, those gorgeous poetic lyrics and I could see them and hear them echoing around me in the concert hall....

Just a magical, magical night.

Nothing much else has been happening, but definitely wanted that recorded for posterity. :D