Saturday, 9th July '05
U-Brow, I-Brow, Everyone a Brow-Brow!
Um. Hopeless title there, I know.
Well... so the past few days have come and gone pretty quickly and our time in Sydney is soon expiring. Sigh. Will be quite sad to leave Babs again... and somehow the trip has made me feel even more nostalgic about home. See this is the longest I've ever been away from home on an unplanned and un-chaperoned trip that involves looking after ones own transport and food and budgeting all by myself. And living with Limin and her friends and visiting Siao Charn thus far has given me quite a bit more insight into the life of a not-so-rich overseas student alone abroad. A sort of mini-taster for my life about to come as I leave for exchange in August. A bit exciting, a bit worrying... oh, I don't know!
But serious musings aside, Thursday was a day for half-bumming. Andre scooted off back to Singapore and Limin went to send him off. Bert declared this same day his Alone Day which effectively declared it an Alone Day for yours truly as well. Not that I minded, seeing as being an only child has tends to have the consequence of making one very reluctant to share extensive periods of time with even one's best friends.
First thing I did in the morning was to go a little crazy at Paddy's Markets, thumbing through all the art and craft stuff in sight, harassing the earing-sellers (all my 401 gang, look out! You get market earings! Yay! ) and taking altogether too many pictures. And then I waltzed into a few factory outlets and got a fleece sweater for Mich. Hope the size is right.
And I had actually taken out my (Damn Friggin' Heavy) Hannibal Lecter omnibus for some bumming and people watching from what I assumed was going to be Gloria Jean's, and ended up in an Internet Cafe (where I wrote that last "Stupid Asians") entry. Ah well. That just meant I had to carry the whole book all the way to the Olympic Park.
So right, the Olympic Park. I always think of the 2000 Sydney Olmpics with a little more fondness than usual because it was in my O-level year and all us 401-ers were a little bit high on Olympic Fever. I remember having all those "No Hoogie! No Thorpe!" debates with various people and watching the gymnastics events when I really should have been studying for the prelims. So although no one here with me in Sydney really cared about it otherwise, I had to go trekking around the place. And I had quite a time soaking in the atmosphere, thinking about the sweat and tears and blood that had been shed around that place; the passion and the discipine that had brought those athletes to the pinacle of their respective sports; remembering the exhilaration I felt watching and cheering on those games. It was a good time to spend by myself (Limin and housemate Pinky shot off to some sale somewhere), although my pictures now have a dearth of, well, me, seeing as I couldn't quite photograph myself at the same time.
I poked around the Torch (it looks like a spaceship, really), spent too long crawling around on the patch of ground where they emboss all the medal winners' names looking for my favourites, and then it was time for Hillsong.
As my everlasting good fortune would have it, even though Limin and I got into the Public Access queue half an hour before time, immensely popular evagelist guy Reinhard Bonke (he's a bit wonky, and yes, I intended that to rhyme) ensured that a good at least ten thousand people were queuing up before us. Grr. So to cut a long story short, we didn't get into the 5:30pm service.
But presumably it would have been the work of the Devil if we were all to give up a go home, so we decided (all at least ten thousand of us who failed to get into the first service) to stick around, much overpriced hotdogs and shiver in the cold to get into the next event - MICHEAL W. SMITH. Hah. The good thing is that I was never really interested in Bonke in the first place and just wanted to come that night to see Smith.
And THEN, it started to RAIN.
There we all were, hopping in the cold for about an hour and then it rains. Geez. Now if you can imagine the queue for Americal Idol sitting out at Superdome praying for the silly raindrops to stop falling on our heads so that our eyes wouldn't soon be turning red, you can imagine it was a pretty powerful thing. The rain stopped, just as I was having a little conversation with God (telling Him that He was a pretty sneaky bugger sometimes). At least He took the hint.
Well it was all worth it coz Smith put up a great show - my first live concert! Woohoo! - and was really good about reminding him the concert wasn't about him at all, but really about prasing the Lord. Nice.
And then we took the train home to find Bert armed with little presents for us. Coles Lemondade for Babs and an avocado for me. AWWWWWW.
Friday morning. Bert and I get out of bed (leaving Limin there) to go to Bondi Beach. I seem to be very unlucky as far as beaches are concerned because what was supposed to be swarming with people sunbathing (in winter! yeah!) and surfing was rather empty. Bleugh. Just my luck. So Bert and I contented ourselves with taking silly shots, U-Brow had an excellent time havocing around, and I got some New Kids on the Block-esque poses with the grafitti. Haha. I wish Wenz and JnJ were around for that. Bert just didn't know the retro thing enough to catch the feel.
You guys HAVE to see U-Brow's pictures. He's adorable. We really just ran amok U-Browing everything, much to Limin's chargrin. Evil girl never brings her toys out for any fun!
Oh, and we found Cheap Cakes Deluxe! *grin with mouthful of pastry and orange liquer cream* Heavenly cakes!
And in the evening we returned home to be informed by an amused Cyrus (other housemate) that Limin had woken up at 4pm and just left the house. Sigh. When she got back we had a humongous dinner at the Dixon Food Court, and returned home to watch the MTV Movie Awards with Pinky and her almost-there-sort-of-boyfriend, Jarett. Typical Aussie dude, that fella, and I'm quite impressed in a in a kind of horrified way that he has watched every single dumb movie on the planet - Dude Where's My Car, Deuce Bigalow, Meet the Fockers, Dogdeball - I can't even begin to list them all. Gee whiz. And he can QUOTE from them.
Then Limin and I jogged off to supper with Chris and the Churchies (that refers to the rest of his church friends, don't ask me why it sounds like a 70's pop band). Suffice to say that Pancakes on the Rocks is just that. It ROCKS. Limin and I had Blueberry Heaven. Shiok city.
And because, like my GP essays, I have again failed to budget my time, let's just end of we me telling you Bert and I played Bball at University of New South Wales with some of Siao Charn's friends, I took too many pictures of the Aussie guys playing Bball (there was one that looked a bit like and Abercrombie and Fitch model should look, haha), and then pranced off to discover that the Rocks Market was severely overpriced.
Alright really got to run now, bye!
[1 photograph developed.]
can i stress that i did not wake up at 4pm?I woke up at 1pm to watch days of our lives then i had a nap TILL 4 pm