Newtown, new home

So this weekend was full of random antics which lead to a quite flu-y Monday. First off, I moved from my sterile, grey, immigrant housing compound to the beautiful, colourful land of Newtown. Newtown is what I would consider a brighter version of SF's Haight and Ashbury district. It is a wonderful dichotomy between artsy bo-ho folks, young families, and gay and transgendered people of every shape, size and type. I love my new neighbourhood and my cozy little terrace. It dates back to the 1800's and is built like a fortress. It has the comforting old house feel where the walls just seem to wrap themselves around you and you are surrounded by warmth as soon as you walk in the door. It may also be that it's a rather small place with no central cooling system. I lugged all my belongings across town in two trips and one back pack. I then rushed to get ready to go out and see my Newtown. I met up with my work friends for one of their birthdays. We were at your basic Aussie pub where the bouncers have too much power and the police patrol the scene regularly. No wonder Aussies get so obliterated when they go abroad, they aren't allowed even appear to be drunk when they are at home. Your scene was basic with tons of sausage and not very many buns milling around the joint. After they closed the bar at around 11:30 (wtf?) we walked over the road to a much more colourful scene. It was amazing! Upon approaching the bar I was tag teamed by two guys I would have sworn were gay had they not been rubbing their hands all over me, but on the other hand I have been more molested at gay bars than straight bars, so the questions still stands. They were ooing and ahhing over my height, Lady Gaga hair and of course my red lips which they "loooooooved". After being accosted, or appreciated (still not sure) we jumped on the dance floor for some spastic action. The dj was fair and the crowd was all over it. I stopped for a second and looked around at the diversity of this place. There were body builder straight guys in the corner, a couple of 50+ queens flirting it out on the dance floor, a hot rocker lesbian couple putting on a show of heavy petting near the dj booth and everything in between. The night ended with sore feet and a bag of chicken flavoured chips. Needless to say it was a fun night. I think I'm going to love my Newtown.

קיסיז!

Georgia peaches and karaoke

I love this city. Things just unfold at your feet and before you know it you are singing karaoke with old and new friends you never thought you would see again. Last night was one of those randomly fun nights that started with a twilight beer and ended in a starry walk home. I went out to meet my friend from Georgia whom I met several months ago when I arrived up in Brisbane. He's a peach in every sense of the word, well maybe not in the fact that he is completely ripped. But personality wise he is a doll. I met his friend from home and as we were talking another Brisbane mate walked up. A little English pixie, she's such a doll and so much fun to be around. We caught up and swapped stories and I got really excited to go travelling when my partner in crime gets here in April. One drink turned into several, as it always does, and we wandered around Darling Harbour until we stumbled upon a lack lustre karaoke night. There was a group of barely 20 year old guys awkwardly rocking out away from the dance floor but once we jumped on it the party started. Karaoke is terrible 99% of the time. I personally hate it and even though I lived in Asia for a year and half I only got coaxed into going twice; and that was for leaving parties. We were drunk enough to enjoy the out of tune love ballads and white guys singing reggae. I love those random nights that you could have never planned and even if you had wouldn't have been nearly as fun. After the rim of my wine glass was effectively coated in red lipstick and my stomach was floating in red wine I hauled my heavy bag and heels home. I'm so glad its Friday!

пацалункі!

Australia Day!

So I have a list of the top ten parties in world and my goal is to go to all of them before I turn 35. They are all over the world so I thought I would give myself a good amount of time to get them all under my belt. Australia Day just so happens to be on the list and I got to tick that one off yesterday. It is very similar to fourth of July right down to the patriotic colors, I think the only main difference are in the holidays' origins and the continent shaped hamburgers they have down here. I spent the day with patriotic colors on my cheeks, lips and chest smooching and schmoozing with the locals and internationals alike. We ran around Darling Harbor in the ozone layer-free sun, talking to people and making new friends. As the day went on and our dehydration was quenched by more C₄H₉OH and we meandered through the city over to The Rocks. If you are not familiar with Sydney The Rocks is the "historic" old part of town, home to "traditional Australian" pubs and cafes where signs entice you to meet the locals. I have yet to meet a local there rubbing shoulders amongst the tourist but it's an absolutely charming part of town. The streets are cobble stone and the buildings date back to the 1800's. The whole neighborhood is surrounded by rock cliffs and flanked by the diamond waters of Sydney Harbor. The Rocks always puts on a good show at the weekends and on special occasions. Sheltered by the shadows of the Harbor Bridge we walked around and observed the scene. Bands were playing every few yards, the outdoor market was bustling and there were drunk people clad in the Aussie flag EVERYWHERE. Face painted, partially clothed and stumbling in and out of bars at 3pm, we had a blast. Just after the sky turned navy blue we headed back to Darling Harbor to get a spot to see the fireworks. They were stellar, much better than New Years Eve. If you come to Australia bypass NYE and come for Australia Day, it's a much better time. All night we were rolling deep with blondies and after a few beers there was some talking and flirting and one of us lovely ladies exchanged numbers with one of Australia's finest...while he was on duty :-) The walk home was just as entertaining as the days events. We stopped on the corner to watch one of the best street bands I have ever seen. They were a soulful folk group from the US and NZ. They were so enchanting that anyone walking by was mesmerized by their performance. I think it was the Orlando Bloom-esk Violin player with his bare feet and pony tail. After they were done we put a gold coin in their case we bought a little face time with the singer and found they play every Sunday in Kings Cross. I wish I remembered their name but I will definitely be checking them out this weekend. Until then these red lips will have to sing to a different tune.

Busu!

I Courtney Loved Big Day Out

Big Day Out was nothing less than stellar. I love anything that brings sweaty, half naked people together with music and beer. The day started out with sniffer dogs and near strip searches to get through the gates but after that it was smooth sailing. All of the bands put on spectacular performances. We caught the tail end of Kasabian in the main theatre then I raced off from the group to go see Girl Talk at the recommendation of a very music savvy friend of mine. This was probably the best move I made all day, that and the beers I downed just before entering the "Boiler Room" where they were playing. The venue was a dark murky pit of sweaty, barely clothed people with a giant Ferris Wheel with carriages made out of shopping carts as its center piece. I got distracted by the lights for a moment, then the music started playing and I legged it for the front. I ditched my bag in the corner and joined the masses. Being alone was awesome as I would have surely lost my partners in crime in that mess of bodies. After their first song I knew I found my newest love. They were absolutely phenomenal and I have never seen someone rock out so hard while “playing” his laptop. The crowd was awesome, the guy with the leaf blower/toilet roll contraption was fun and the highlight was probably the moon sized balloons filled with tie-dyed confetti. Every song and person in the venue dared you to stand still. After about an hour of constant moving, sweating and sliding against strangers the show was over and the cattle were herded out the gate. It was a surreal Woodstock moment as we left the sticky dark arena and entered a giant summer shower. Everyone started yelling and cheering and chanting “whomp there it is” in sync (I have no idea why). I dodged wet hippies and ecstatic teenagers rolling around in the mud to go meet my friends at the statue of a metallic pelvis with two rotating spinal chords coming out of its top. We were all thoroughly soaked but welcomed the much needed rain. Sydney’s weather got us again, when I went into the Boiler Room only one hour earlier it was well over 100 degrees and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The storm did have its downfall as it transformed me from Gwen Stefani to Courtney Love. Make-up trashed and hair even worse, I looked like a fallen diva by 4pm. Oh well. We went on to see The Mars Volta, Lilly Allen, Decembrists, Powderfinger, the Jagermister DJs, Muse and Groove Armada. The storm cleared and more beer was drunk and we danced until we were dry again. Muse was amazing, as they usually are, and we were so excited we managed to clear a circle around us big enough for some seriously spastic dancing. I don’t know if it was our enthusiasm or our clumsy, flailing limbs but people kept their distance. The night ended with an electric performance from English sensation, Groove Armada. It was an amazing way to end the night with smoke, mirrors and sparkles galore. At the end everyone headed out of Olympic park exhausted but elated. All smiles and sunburns on the way home as people made fast friends on the overcrowded train. At the final stop I kissed my new friends goodbye, leaving crimson characters on their cheeks, and carried my tired bones home. I can’t say yet if this will be my best Aussie experience but I am sure it will be in the top 3.

kisss!

Your my holiday!

It's the end of the work week and I have the best weekend to look forward to. BIG DAY OUT is tomorrow and I can't wait. Sleeping tonight is going to be like waiting for Santa. Muse is headlining and I have wanted to see them live for years. I have my hippie hat on and my sarong ready for some serious twirling. Now the only problem is how to smuggle libations into the venue. I feel another "I love Lucy" moment coming on....
целувки!

100 dolla bills yo!

So today was payday and by 10am I was spending money like a horny 18 year-old at a strip club. I have been beyond broke for the past few weeks, since I had to choose between buying my concert ticket and eating. My new "diet" is awesome. As per usual, I managed to run out of absolutely everything at exactly the same time. My house is like a post apocolyptic wasteland. I'm squeezing and shaking the remainders of all of my toiletries out of their containers, have no clean clothes and only have a half serving of Speciak K and soymilk in my fridge. I feel like a dude. But now I don't have to ration my goods and live like I am camping. I can eat full servings of meals, lather up properly and drink liquids other than water. Maybe I will even buy myself a new lipstick...Life is good.
Csókok!

Femme Fatale Fall

photo credit: http://kenoath.files.wordpress.com

Every morning I rush around getting ready for work. Shower, hair, makeup and food, if there is time. When I finally collect myself in the elevator is when I take the time to put on my lipstick. The five floor journey gives me enough time to line my lips, fill them in with a succulent rouge pigment and fluff my hair a bit before walking out the door. I usually have one last look and blow myself a kiss before the doors shut. I then strut off to work with the confidence and shimmy of a femme fatale. I bop my head and shake a little as I walk along to the beat of my life soundtrack, courtesy of my iPod. Everything is within my reach, I imagine what the people are saying as I walk by. I can't hear them and I live in a neighborhood where 90% of the occupants don't speak English, so I am sure they are all words of praise. The man yelling at me is asking me to marry him, rather than warn me that I almost walked in front of an oncoming bus and the feisty old woman pushing me out of her way with her huge shopping stroller is merely trying to touch greatness. I am cool, calm and collected as I part the crowd on the sidewalk....and then I fall. Drunk, sober, stilettos, flats, it doesn't matter. I fall all the time. Today was no exception. I flew off the curb and onto the trolley tracks, with a force so great it dislodged one of my headphones. Since I fall so often I recovery very easily, like a tricky dance move, I totally meant to do that. I jammed my headphone back into my ear before I could hear the chuckles from the people who had patiently waited to cross at the green light instead of trying to bolt on red like I did. I'm very tall and very blond and tend to scream when I fall, surely I attracted the attention of every person within earshot. Oh well, maybe one of these days I will get this diva thing right.

Kyss!

Bollywood Nights

Yet again, Sydney has succeeded in impressing me with its enthusiasm and culturally diverse range of entertainment. In light of Sydney Festival, there was another spectacular performance held out in the Western Suburbs this weekend. A.R. Rahman, infamous composer for Slumdog Millionaire, held an amazing free concert out in Parramatta Park. I, along with 80,000 other adoring fans, made the trek out to the suburbs to see this spectacular performance. And what a performance it was. There were saris swirling and bright colours flashing all night. Bollywood singers and dancers adorned the stage in heavily ornamented costumes, and belted their hearts out, making the crowd go crazy. I had no idea there was such a large Indian community in Sydney. It was amazing! Young Indian men were dancing along with local hippie grandmas to music that forebode you to stand still. Sarong twirling is one of my favourite festival pastimes since an episode with a Swede in Bali. Needless to say my spastic dancing and twirling of my sparkly scarf were in full effect. Throughout the night there was some drinking and some dancing and several new friends. One in particular happened to have a television camera pointed in my face through our entire conversation. I was tricked into an interview by a cheeky young reporter. I don't particularly like being interviewed on the street, you never know what will be asked and usually only the clips that make people sound like idiots are aired. My friend sitting next to me was interviewed and referred to the concert as being "better than a kick in the nuts" we all laughed and as my head was thrown back the camera shot to me "and what do you think miss?" Crap. Lights, camera and red lipstick "blah, blah, blah insert politically correct American BS here". and it was over. Phew, I just hope no one recognizes me. However, That wasn't the worst part of the night. After a group effort so smuggle in some wine, we had ourselves a nice little picnic in the park. After drinking my something-th cup of wine I looked down and noticed something at the bottom of the glass. We are rich and classy folks and only indulge in the finest of boxed wines at out door events so there is no way that this mystery object was sediment. I dumped it out and my heart stood still. Australia is home to about 90% of the worlds most dangerous animals and four of the ten world’s deadliest spiders. What do you think was at the bottom of my glass? Let's hope it was one of the friendly ones.
puthjet!

Colour me Friday

Photo credit: earsucker.com

Beyond exhausted, cant focus, the only thing of color on my entire body is these obnoxious red lips and now I am going to go treat them to some much needed Merlot.
póga!

Bummer, it's still hump day

So today I woke up incredibly excited that the weekend was just around the corner. I hopped out of bed and got ready, dreading going to work but also relieved that there were only two days left until I was free to lounge on the beach all weekend. I have a limited supply of clothing down here since a.) I am "travelling" and b.) I left 80% of my luggage up in Brisbane in some hostel locker. Therefore, I try to space the few work appropriate outfits out over the week so I don’t wear the same thing to the same class two weeks in a row. I pulled on a dress after my shower only to have the strap break immediately. That's two dresses I have destroyed this week! I then picked another dress I wore last week, thinking I was going to be teaching my second class. I came into the office armed with a Red Bull and red lipstick and set about grading papers and planning my lesson. I took the folder for my other class and gave my co-teacher a re-cap of what I had already taught this week. Mid ramble I was stopped only to be told that today was in fact Wednesday and not Thursday and we were not switching classes. My earth shattered. All day I was floating on the optimism that the weekend was just 48 hours away only to have my tiny bubble burst after one sentence. I grumbled to myself and switched gears back into Wednesday mode.
Suudlused!

Manic Monday...and Tuesday

Today was just another day of trying to trick my students into being educated. Unfortunately, my tricks were not so clever and they were having none of the learning I was trying to force upon them. However, I did have a rather interesting start to my morning. Big Day Out is what I would consider Australia's biggest music festival. It is held in celebration of Australia day and this year it is on January 22nd and 23rd in Sydney. Undoubtedly it has been sold out for some time now but, where there is a will there is the Internet, and where there is the Internet there is a way and it came in the form of a nice young man we will call Frank. Frank had a friend. Frank's friend was a flak. Frank now had an extra ticket for $140, making this lady very happy. It was part drug deal, part blind date; "meet me at 8:30 (am) at platform 23, I will be wearing grey trousers and a white business shirt. I have black hair. I'll call you when I'm close." I felt like a spaz as I roller out of bed, threw on the nearest thing (a bight melon shirt and a black linen skirt) threw my hair in a bun and slapped on some red lipstick to go meet this mystery man/saint. It was your usual rush hour hustle in the station with young professionals competing for walking space around students and street performers who couldn't be less inclined to make way. I never take the train, so ticket machine protocol is not my forte. As I pumped endless amounts of change into a machine for a ride I was never going to take the woman behind me approached in a bit of a fluster. "Do you need help?" she asked what she was really saying was "you are taking forever and I have someplace more important to be". Since I was taking forever and wasn't actually going anywhere I let her go ahead. After I bought my fake ticket I headed up to meet my mystery man. As soon as I got to platform 23 I saw him in the distance, wearing exactly what he had described and looking a little lost without me. He had a bit of a halo around him and I knew immediately he was my angel in disguise. I went up to him and introduced myself. Like any first date we made small talk about how lucky I was to have him in my life and what bands we both preferred, blah blah, blah. Then, like any drug deal there was the exchange of currency. I gave him several bits of brightly colored paper for one. After the bill was settled and we parted ways with a friendly smile, a firm handshake, and an open-ended suggestion of a rendezvous at the event. All in all it was the prefect first date. It only cost me $140 and I don't have to worry if he will call again.
Ciuman!

Sunday Sunburn

Sunday was too nice of a day to sit at a computer, so I opted for some skin damage on the beach instead. After a long night celebrating Sydney's fabulousness and Al Green's lack of enthusiasm I pulled my messy self out of bed and coordinated my swimsuit (and later, skin color) with my lipstick. I felt a bit silly being one of those girls who obviously put some effort into an activity which essentially requires laying in the dirt all day but I got over it after in about 15 minutes. The weather was lovey and the scenery was even better. I love summer and the bare cinnamon skin it brings with it. Nothing better than manorexic men strutting around in their Euro-speedos and faux-hawks. God bless Australia!
Bues!

Let's stay together

Photo credit: liveguide.com.au, Swissotel Sydney

Today was the first day it has actually felt like summer in Sydney. It was such a beautiful day in the city. Darling harbour was as adorable as ever with its waterfront restaurants and confused tourists everywhere. The Rocks was a bit less crowded than usual despite its wonderful market being alive and well (www.therocks.com). Today is the first day of the Sydney Festival and the festivities started at around 2pm . Tonight is the big event with various concerts spread out all over the Central Business District and the mighty Al Green as the headliner. I can't wait! I even bought a new dress for the occasion since most of my luggage is still in storage up in Brisbane. Sydney was supposed to be a "weekend trip" about two months ago, oops! I decided to embrace Australia's love for loud, tacky clothing with this purchase. It is beyond ridiculous. A little baby doll dress covered in faded fluorescent pink and purple leopard print. Yes I love it, yes I will wear it shamelessly and yes I will wear it with red lipstick.
Beijos!

Finally Friday!

The first work week of the new year has finally come to an end. 8 days into the new year and my resolution is holding strong. I forget about it until I eat, drink or wipe my face, which all result in a mess and a trip to the powder room. I am now one of those disgusting people who has lipstick stained water bottles and glass rims. At least I'll undoubtedly know which glass is mine for the rest of the year. Eating is also more challenging. My sandwich today looked like a shark attack victim with crimson lipstick was smeared all over my baguette. I have ingested more red pigment in the last week than I care to think about. This weekend is the Sydney Festival. The whole city lights up as the streets are closed down and stages litter the parks and throughways. There is a lot of live music, art and outdoor markets. There are month long celebrations in January to celebrate Australia's existence finally commencing with Australia day at the end of the month. Yet again, Australians know how to do things right, they have a month of festivities just to celebrate their own awesomeness. I can’t wait!
Kus Kus!

Berry Buzz

I am so lucky to wake to the sound of transformers outside my window and the smell of my roommates' second hand smoke filtering in under the door every morning. Living with foreigners sucks! Ok, no, I take that back. Living with multiple pack a day smokers who turn your living room in to a smoking den and never open the window sucks. But cancer aside, today started off just fine. I finally got some of my Christmas cards in the mail and my last present from my mom, a much needed pair of iPod head phones. Mine were starting to sound like a CB radio from the 1970's. On my way to work I stopped by my bank to withdrawal the massive amount of rent I'm paying for my healthy abode, only to discover that my job decided not to pay me! I took this up with the sturdy Eastern European woman in charge of payroll. One word about not being paid and she was on the phone with HR immediately. I gave her a cherry red smile and went about my day, assured that she would make my world right again. She's definitely my new favorite person in the office. Half way through the day and all the way through my sandwich I went to the bathroom to check the damage that had been done to my lip wear. I stared into the mirror and was shocked at what I saw. Not only had my lipstick stained my chin from stuffing a sandwich in my mouth but it had also turned a ghastly shade of late 80's pink! I immediately scrubbed my face and re-applied the ruby pigment, sans the light pink lip gloss, which I think was the culprit. But despite these unfortunate setbacks it was otherwise a great day. Can't wait for tomorrow, it's Friday!
Bacio!

Gee-tar a go-go

Another day another....kiss? Well, only if you count me kissing myself in the mirror. It's the best way to start your day! Today was your average day as a dorky teacher. However, I am happy to find that my favorite street performer is back! I guess he took the holidays off but he is back in full force, strumming and balancing his guitar as usual, or rather unusual. This guy is amazing, not only is he a great guitar player but he plays perfectly while balancing another full-sized acoustic on his head! He never drops it and even manages to sway along with the music. I've never seen anything like it. I hope he is there tomorrow, my iPod headphones are broken.

Ranas!

Gypsy dancer???

So the naughty kids were back in class today, and in fine form I might add. One of my eastern European students referred to me as a gypsy. I immediately had a Borat moment flash trough my mind. While his comment was meant in jest I am sure he was referring more to my dancing in class rather than my red lips. Sydney is an interesting city. It is incredibly culturally diverse but not as eccentrically tolerant like San Francisco or New York. That being said I was incredibly surprised today when no one but me seemed to notice the white, mid-forties, male, with short stature and average build, walking down the street this evening. This man was obviously dressed for a special occasion. He had a painted on pink tank top, which exposed the better part of his torso, paired with an ever so tight pair of jean cutoffs that put Jessica Simpsons Daisy Dukes to shame. These shorts were so short had his manhood not been pressed so firmly against the inside of his front zipper I'm sure it would have fallen out. He tromped across the cross-walk, arms folded over his chest, and as pouty as a sullen teenage girl who was denied entry to a Jonas Brothers concert. Something new everyday huh?

küssen!

Lucille Ball, polka-dots and all

Photo credit emilysgifts.com

Today was the first day back at work after ten days of letting my internal clock wake me no earlier than 10am. Needless to say I was less than thrilled to be there. So to liven my mood and go full on with this whole "classic red lips" thing I decided to sport my black and white polka-dot 50's style dress. A sweetheart had this made for my birthday last year and I relish every chance I have to wear it. I also think this was the first day I had brushed my hair since Christmas. I wore it down and straight with my Betty Page bangs slightly crooked after an encounter with the Chinese hairdresser at an unknown salon. Sydney is the windy city, I don't care what Chicago has to say about it. No less than three times today did the wind whip my platinum blond locks into my face, cementing them into my scarlet lip gloss. It was like I had walked into a spiderweb trying to get the hair detached from my face. After it was sticky and stained red with sparkly gloss the wind caught it again and stuck it to another part of my face, each time leaving very noticeable red streaks. It looked like I'd had an unfortunate run-in with an angry alley cat by the time I got home from work. Other than that not much else interesting happened today. No smart remarks from students, no accusations of prostitution not even so much as a raised eyebrow and a "huh?". I think I underestimated their politeness, but then again all of the mischievous students were absent today...
Until tomorrow
Pusspuss!

Madonna circa 1985

Photo credit

Today was a Madonna day. I'm not saying it was a good thing or a bad thing, it was just a thing. Frizzy hair, pale skin, grown out roots and obnoxiously red lipstick. My roommate kept looking at me in shock after she hadn't seen me for a few minutes and compared my "new look" to getting plastic surgery. I figured this would take some getting used to. I sported all black today and thought my glamours pout made up for the lack of effort in all other areas. Tommorrow is the first day back at work after the holday break. I am a little anxious about what my students and fellow teachers will have to say. I teach all international students so I am sure they will not be shy about making comments, regardless of their nature. I think in some parts of the world where the climate is dry and the culture is conservative red lips are a tell tale sign of a prostitute. Hopefully none of my students are from such cultures, it could make lessons a bit awkward. Hopefully my bosses won't have a problem with it, but in an office culture where jeans are acceptable attire I am pretty sure this will fly too.
Suudelma!

Rain Rain Go Away

Today was one of those lackluster days where the weather is so variant between stormy and sunny you can hardly trust it to be consistent for more than an hour. This makes destinations and outfit choices almost impossible. So instead of facing the bi-polar day I decided to hibernate indoors with a big bowl of pasta, a chick-lit and red lips (not from the tomato sauce). Needless to say I didn't change out of my PJs until it was almost time to put them on again so I spent the day prancing around my apartment in my boy shorts and tank kissing myself in the mirror every time I passed it, which was never. My impeccable charm and beauty (note sarcasm) were kept to myself today, maybe tomorrow will be more user friendly.
besos!