Posts from — February 2010

This weekend was a rainy weekend, best spent with loved ones in front of the TV. I spent it accidentally away from home, as has happened more than once lately. I really need some sort of emergency overnight bag, because one midnight shopping run to Woolworths, George Street for emergency undies, socks and toothbrushes is really one too many midnight shopping runs.

This weekend I accidentally spent in Cammeray. My soon to be brother-in-law, Joel, had his birthday hijacked by a friend’s girlfriend…for the second year in a row. So what better way than to reclaim said celebrations than by inviting me along to gatecrash?

Cammeray is a really leafy suburb, which just so happens to look really fantastic on a rainy night, which made up, somewhat, for the really wet walk home, after a night at The Stoned Crow, in Crows Nest, home of the most delicious beef burger I have ever eaten, and for a mere $10! I don’t want to give away a trade secret, but pickles and beetroot is all I have to say about that.

The birthday celebrations had a masquerade theme. As you can see, we really fit in well with the guests of the really dressed up, intending to spend the rest of the night at a club, hello my mask is feathered and sexy persuasion. I chose making love to a hamburger with my mouth over attempting to fit in. It is a choice I do not regret, such was the awesomeness of the burger.

Party successfully crashed.

Today we headed to Chatswood, where I got a backpack from Dangerfield, for my impending return to school. It has been officially Wuz approved.

Steph and Joel are a mere five weeks away from getting married, and I had possibly ruined Joel’s birthday night by crashing at their place, so I decided to give the kids some space and return home to the love of my life, The Wuzinator, aka The Furry Seal.

In 2005, a doctor [who once mistook me for my older sister and advanced at me with what I thought was a needle, but which was actually a thermometre, but still!] told me that there were a few things he’d never recommend anyone do all at once.  A few of them were things I was about to do, like move and hand in my thesis. In the last two months, I’ve done pretty much everything on the list, all at once.

I am still [relatively] sane, though at this stage, if there was a way to pump the filling of Cadbury Creme Eggs intravenously into my blood system, I would probably give it a shot. I have survived with chocolate and I’m assuming withdrawals aren’t going to be pretty. Shakes, zooming noises every time I move my eyes, aggressive behaviour, chasing people through Surry Hills with broken bottles…awkward! Seriously, with the Sydney rental market the way it is, I now more than ever understand the old nonna in my street who smokes cigarettes she finds in the gutter and steals everyone’s junk mail, the man who walks everywhere backwards, the man who talks in a baby voice and the elderly couple who champ at the bit every week to wash out their garbage bins the moment they are emptied. Renting in Sydney makes you crazy.

The point being, party people, that I have been approved for a unit in the ‘ville. I am moving two blocks and I finally, after a good eight weeks of horror and a week of feeling like someone was sitting on my chest, I feel ok. Broke, but ok. Tired, but ok. Suffering from a gland problem according to this morning’s checkout chick at Woolies, and in need of Gatorade, but ok.

Now to find a housemate and adjust to wearing pants around the house. Unless I can find a pro-no pants housemate, which in Sydney, shouldn’t be too much of a hassle. Additional selling point, that I just remembered today, were the exceptionally attractive men from one of the other units who helped me in to check the unit out on Saturday.

So anyone who knows anyone looking for a flat, who likes cats, the ‘ville and exceptionally attractive men, send em my way.