i spent valentines day drinking an espresso and eating free heartshaped chocolates at badde manors cafe, a long standing 'true' cafe in trendy restaurant shitcatcher-pant boutique neighbourhood glebe, with a sixty year old, sydneyborn, gay musician called steven. he had in front of him a spanish made easy book which caught my eye and my lighter prompted him to ask me if he could buy a smoke. i couldn't offer him a cigarette but i asked him about his interest in spanish and we got to talking.
we talked about elizabeth taylor, pisceans, chile and a lesbian falling off a third-storey balcony at a particularily wild party. and after we discussed tailormades versus rollies, we chatted about the curtness and coldness of youth, his past future-wife and his inevitable life of loneliness, and where to explore in sydney.
i realized after an hour or two that i hadn't explored glebe at all 'cause i was so set on having a coffee before anything else. so it was time to go. i walked up and down glebe point road, got a free yoga class pamphlet, found an identical skirt to one i had borrowed from alicia two days before in a vinnie's but couldn't squeeze my hips into a size 8 and tried on some ugly shoes instead. i found out about a few good weekend markets from the lady behind the counter who had greasy pigtails and three shirts on and wandered back towards central station.
haaaaaaa - last weekend i found v-club downtown. probably the swankiest place i've been in my life, what with its velvet chairs and round glass tables with monitors installed underneith and sneaky keyboards. in the fruity lobby they were playing the shittest top 40 i've heard since hot fm in the braz' babes sample hut and the blonde-bobbed lesbian behind the counter's noncommital enthusiasm made me want to vomit. in my attempt to find free activites in sydney for the backpacking type (i haven't exactly backpacked yet) i came across v-club, a five star gym in the sassy heart of the sydney cbd. i was meant to meet lauititi for a consultation but there was no mauri in sight so i met this german guy who walked me through a membership introduction and through my medical history. the zumba class i wanted to go to (props to sierra and liz scully, muff and susi-q mills, and me) was in 5 minutes so i got changed and joined forty overforty asian ladies, a few young dog owning celibates, some preteens with obviously rich ass moms, and two awkward men in a dance studio called 'hero'. a psycho bounded up to the front elastically, tightened the ponytail on top of her head, cranked the latin dancehall, brightened her underbitten smile and yanked up her pink trackies. she was white as and totes a ghetto babealicious chica. the next two hours i won't describe. if you've ever been to a zumba class you'll know what it's like!
yesterday was wickkeeddd, i met up with theo, a german who lived with me for half a year five years ago. theo plays soccer but has no left foot, he's travelling the world: vancouver/sanfran/cali/lasvegas/grandcanyon/fijiislands/nz/oz and off to hong kong today, his english has improved tenfold, he looks the same as before which is not a bad thing, and he has a black string bracelet that i like. my favourite memory is when he first arrived in canada he asked my brother 'why do you don't not drive?' which became a long running joke in the hobruecker-thompson household. we got tallboys and sat in hyde park drinking brews and reminiscing a bit and sharing stories of our travels. he just spent a couple weeks driving down to melbourne and back and was just in sydney for a day, fucker!, so we had a few hours to talk about five years and five countries. we'll meet up again in another five, probably in berlin we decided.
saturday night i had the biggest night haha aieaieee. i had a lot a lot a lot of pent up energy that couldn't be released in esperance, not that i really wanted to let it out there anyway. i had dinner and drinks at home with alicia and daniel and snotface and then met up with daniel's colleagues (he's headchef at sepia) at sanctuary for some beers. before they got off work i met some italian, spanish and french backpackers, most memorable of whom was marta, a cute little brune from madrid. i met jason and andrew and after a few beers--jason and i watched man utd vs. man city and andrew watched rugby-- we went to oxford street and hit da clubz. oxford art factory! sick spot, you should go. it's got two rooms: one had a djs and free tunes and the other had a show that you had to pay to get in to. they were spinning classic dance mash up sample sing along fun. i remember ice cube, stevie wonderous, mickey avalon aaaaaand some outkast, despite dancing there for like sixty hours. so yeah! had a massive dance party with a bunch of cool strangers and had some more beers and got bliiiind.
at one point in the night i realized that my red stripe bottle pendant had fallen off my necklace and i sobered up for about ten straight devastating minutes. i was empty without my empty little bottle, how ironic. somehow i had a search party of about five people all looking for my necklace. i told this one guy curtis that i would sleep with his friend whose twentieth birthday it was that night if he found my necklace. curtis found the necklace. i was sewwwwww happepepiieiyeyeye he got probably the biggest hug i've given anyone in the past four months but i didn't sleep with his friend sowwie. jason andrew and i went next door where there was an electronic hip hop dub step show and where i continued to dance my face off and ruined my favourite new t-shirt by lying back on the stage and chillin with the 5'2" black as night rapper. (class.) it was so good to hear the bassssssssss it's been so long. once it was light enough out and we were ready for our walk of shame we went out onto oxford street and hung out till the trains started running again. since stanmore station was closed for maintenance i had to take a bus from central and since i missed my stop it seemed suitable to alight there and walk back home. best part of my hour long walk home was asking for directions from a bakery 'cause of course at that hour shops were opening up and people were starting their sundays. long story short got home at 8:30 slept till 4. oops sorry sunday.
ok i have a miserable pterodactyl to walk around the neighbourhood for a couple hours, determined to complain until her mummy comes home and sings her i like pie, i like cake, i like anything you make. for now, isobel's longhaired inadequate replacement will have to do. please dear baby god let this child sleep in her pram i am begging you.
lovenatalov.
dude you're a swell writer
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