Bon Scott and Whatnot

Well, on Monday I went with my cousins out to Freemantle to find Bon Scott’s grave. Not being the best planner, I knew that his grave was out there, but didn’t know exactly where it was. Supposedly one of the friends did, but it turns out she *didn’t* and sent us on a wild goose chase. Or Bon Scott chase, as the case may be. We finally found his grave, it was a very modest headstone in a rose garden. Thank god there was a guy who *did* print off stuff from the internet that we could follow around to figure out where we were going.

The next day was another trip out to Freemantle with a friend’s friend, which included a visit to the old jail, the Nautical Museum, and the once insane asylum, now Art Centre. I wondered if the latter was a comment on the lives of artists. Being somewhat crazily inclined, I’m glad that I didn’t live 100 years ago, as I probably would have inhabited a crazy house with the rest of them. We also went up to the war memorial, which was the best view of the area I’ve seen so far.

Last night I went to the Arts and Fashion Graduate Show from Curtin Tech with two of my other cousins; the show was interesting. It showcased both jewellry and fashion: the fashion, for the most part, was very boring, save for some excellent Madmax-inspired airline stewardess hats made from leather and some ripped/torn men’s garments worn by beautiful boys attempting capoeria (sp?). The jewellry presentation was odd, as the women who wore the jewellry wore black lycra suits only, and the necklace/bracelets they were showcasing. I understand why they wouldn’t want to combine the fashion with jewellry, but the black lyrcra was wayyyy to Robert Palmer for my liking.

Today was a fine day in Perth – another warmish day cooled by ocean breezes. I wandered into the city to find some information about tours up north, and subsequently booked one going to the Pinnacles, and doing some dolphin thing. That leaves on the 1st of Dec. I then actually found the tourist info centre, and then made it back to the cuz’s on my own, and a return to sender tag around my throat wasn’t even necessary.

This weekend I’ll be hanging out with the cousins again on Saturday, doing some music “sharing”, then wandering to Freo again to go to a bar. Sunday will be another slow day, with my other cousin’s birthday BBQ happening in the ‘arvo’. Next week will be slow until Wednesday, when I go to the city, crash at other cousin’s, then leave for the north in the morning of the 1st. The 5th we are going down south for five days to Margaret River, which I hear is wonderful: they have the best wineries, the best restaurants and heaps of surfing. I come back on the 10th, then have a week to get in a few more touristy things, then bugger off back to Syndey on the 17th. It’s weird that all this time is collapsing on itself.

Needless to say, my Nanowrimo has gone by the way-side, as I’ve not really been too busy, but I’m not in the same headspace as I was in Auckland, and am thus finding it difficult to write and continue the same story that I was. I’m 10,000 words into the story, with no clear plot, but a lot of swearing. Not really sure where to go with that. I want to write about the aridness of my surroundings, but it doesn’t fit in with the moldyness of my previous ones. I think separate short stories is a cop-out, but I’m also sure that there is nothing in the rules against splitting things up. And I mean really, I’m not doing anything between now and the 30th, really, so why not? (har har)


32 Degrees and Melty

Well, it is officially summer here. Warm warm warm. Today I went shopping in the suburb right by my cousin’s place. The weather here is bizarre, it will be 32 degrees, but then at around 2pm a beautiful breeze will come in off the water and cool everything down.

Today I bought new runners. I haven’t had a pair in YEARS. I need something to walk around in because my other sandals are giving me perpetual blisters.

There is this awesome festival in Fremantle over the next two weeks, then the rellies and I are going south to “Margaret River” which is supposedly good wine country. Also, as I just found out from a google search, Bon Scott is buried in the Fremantle Cemetary. I must go and visit on behalf of my bogan-Canadian friends.

I want to dance as if my life has no limits
or as if the limits are perched
just over my shoulder

I want the pink chiffon silk of my skirt
to pirouette in a never-ending swirl
spinning off beams of colour
indistinguisable from their cloth sisters

I want to laugh so hard that I nearly throw-up
And to smile so wide that my cheeks become charlie horsed
and the white of my teeth blind all those within bleaching distance

I want to feel the eternal thump of a bass
while it takes my pulse by the hand
finding points where they compliment each other so well
that they cancel each other out in silence

I want to close my eyes and feel
the rythym of drums pounding, a backdrop
for the blocks and ribbons of red, yellow and purple
that play in my blackened field of vision

I want to feel eternally energetic
a nuclear reactor bubbling on
atoms splitting and rejoining
controlled and powerful
headspace to bodyspace
realigning my bloodforce
allowing me to channel the music
so I can keep dancing forever

Perthy Perth and the Perthy Bunch

Well, I’m in Western Australia now. Its hard for me to believe to be honest.

My last exam finished on the 12th of November at 5:30pm. My flight left the next day for Sydney, and I had booked a spot to stay near the Airport so I could fly out to Perth the next day. So, I needed to clean up my room, pack all of my life into three (or four 🙂 suitcases, and get ready to go for 9:00am. All worked out pretty well, with my room getting pretty much cleaned, me only drinking one bottle of wine (two would have been prohibitive) and getting all of my crap into four bags.

Now for all of you that have a good sense of humour like I do, you’ll get a laugh out of this. I met a really great guy a week before I left Auckland. Nice, huh? We had a week long fling, he drove me out to the airport, and said the whole cheesy, cliched goodbye. We knew getting into things that would be the case, but ah, you know how that happens sometimes. We think we are a bit stronger than we are. So, here I am in Perth feeling like a stupid girl.

But, on other news, I got to hang out in my fancy hotel room near the airport in Sydney, which all made up for the sappy goodbye. I got in about 5pm on Sunday, ordered room service and watched some TV. I bought some sparkling wine and some chocolate from the mini-bar. I then proceeded to have a bubble bath, and sat in the tub for an unreal amount of time. To say I was prune-y was a bit of an understatement. I was oblivious to many things, included a bomb threat which happened at the hotel supposedly. I only found out about it when I was getting ready to leave the airport the next day, and an American staying there said “Did you hear all the commotion last night?”. That reminds me of the time I slept through the firealarm at University: I’m glad that it was a false alarm (as was this bomb threat) or it could have been messy. Honestly, I’m not sure if I’d have known of the bomb threat if I would have left the hotel. I was really enjoying my bath.

Then I wandered to the airport, hopped on my plane for Perth. I had a great seat, the one that is in the front of a bank of seats, so I had a heap of leg room. Problem is with those seats that they have a dinky little tray on the side, which caused me to spill red wine on myself. Luckily, my shirt was a very similiar colour, and you couldn’t even tell there was anything that had been spilled. Then the lady beside me was a right beeeatch – I don’t expect someone to be best friends with me, but it just isn’t fun spending four hours of a flight with someone fighting over the armrests with you.

I had ordered a gluten-free meal, and it was bad. They actually were so strapped for ideas they included rice cakes. Blech.

The flight was very uneventful other than lame gluten-free crap and armchair stealing woman. I was met at the airport by my cousins Bruce, Gael and Pat. They drove me to Gael’s house and I re-met my Great Aunt Connie, who is now (funnily enough) considerably shorter from when I remembered meeting her last. But then again, I was 10, and she was about 20 years younger than she is now. We had a great dinner – a BBQ – and then I got to sleep relatively early.

Today was my first day in the city and we went to Cottlestoe Beach. My big joke is that I”m going to get eaten by a shark, because they are lazy hunters and would rather have a good feast”. So I asked Gael about this beach, and supposedly someone died from a shark attack there a few years ago, but she assured me that there weren’t that many, and it was a perfectly safe place to swim. We were at a cafe overlooking the water, and this woman came over to Gael and asked if the sharks were out today. Gael looked at me and then her and said “Don’t say *that*, she’s Canadian”, to which the woman replied, “Well, they don’t tend to stay up here, they tend to be more down south anyhow”. Well, funnily enough, I am going with the family down south in the beginning of December. So Gael spoke up and said, “Well, don’t say that *either* because we are going there in December”. To which the lady said “Oh, well, I hear the wine tours down there are nice”.

SO, my theory is that there are about 100000 people that die every year from shark attacks in Perth, but *no one talks about them*. Instead of Fight Club, its Shark Club. After the exchange above, Gael said, “Well, there may be a few sharks, but they don’t tend to feed in the afternoon. So as long as you go swimming later in the day, you should be fine”. I just had to laugh. Either it was the truth, it was a secret shark society, or it was a cunning ploy for the locals to keep tourists out of the water.

Later on in the day today we went shopping to the “ethnic” parts of town, and had some lunch at an Indian restaurant. We wandered around a bit, and the Christmas decorations are now up, and today is the first warm day they’ve had for the last while, meaning it is about 30 degrees. So, tinsel and warm sun. A blinding combination.

That is all for now, I’ve taken some odd pics but no access via laptop to upload them, so will do that later on. –

Bomb Threat!

Nah, Just kidding. At least, there was no real bomb . It was only a hoax. But supposedly last night at my hotel near the Sydney Airport, a young Iranian man who wanted to be deported phoned in a fake bomb threat. This happened on the fourth floor. I was on the seventh.

I’m hoping that they just didn’t take it too seriously, because I didn’t hear anything about it until I was talking with a woman from the US. “Did you hear all the commotion last night?”. “Ah, er, no” I replied. She told me the story. I imagine around the time that this happened I was in my bath with my sparkling wine and listening to my music. In other words, I’m not sure I would have moved even if I would have known.

I’m thinking about how I should broach this with my mother. She is kind of freaked out by these things. Should I not bother telling her, and risk that she finds out about this via the internet; or should I tell her and risk her being worried about me even more than she is??

***********edit – the terminal at Sydney Airport wouldn’t let me write “bomb” in an email. Funny that. Maybe not the smartest thing to write out considering the recent arrest of 15 potential terrorists, eh?******************

I’m Alive and, well, drunk.

My flight today was wonderful. I was driven to the airport by the lovely alasatyr and after convincing the airport folks that they can send unaccompanied baggage, having a bite to eat, we said our fond fairwells and I wandered to the flight. It was very uneventful, except when the guy whom I was sharing the aisle with sat down beside me. I’m pretty sure he was a guy that stood me up on a blind date I was supposed to go on. He didn’t recognize me, but from the stats he threw out, it did seem like he was the same guy. It made me kind of glad to leave Auckland, where everyone is two degrees separated from everyone else. This guy turned out to be relatively nice, but it took all I had to not tell him to fuck off, or to freak him out with information that I knew about him.

I got to Sydney – it was about 25 degrees when I landed. Went to my hotel. Checked in. Got to my room, dumped my stuff and crashed. Then ordered some food, bought a bottle of sparkling wine, and took said bottle with me into the bathroom, drew a nice bubble bath and proceeded to drink. Getting out was kind of a chore.

Now, I’m just trying to fall asleep, but I think I’m too excited about going to Perth tomorrow. I guess I can sleep on the plane. 🙂

I Can’t Sleep

Not that this is a causal link, but I think I burnt my eye tonight when I was cooking chicken.

And before you think I cook chicken funny, a smattering of olive oil bubbled up, and I think a renegage drop jumped in my eyeball. My eye is now slightly red and slightly sore.

And I’ve got a motherfuckload of shite to do before I leave on Sunday, and I’m not at all motivated to do any of it.

I don’t wanna.