It's spectacularly warm in Sydney. There is a light breeze and I feel a bit delirious from how perfect the weather is today. As Tori puts it, it's a great day for me to be reunited with my city again. You can definitely feel that the mood of Sydney-siders is UP a bit, from when I left in early November.
There are so many rolling-on-the-floor funny, happy and outrageous stories that I've gathered over the last 6 weeks so I will blog them all as soon as I get some sleep. Luckily, they are all dot-pointed in my notebook so I can't forget about them.
Here's one to begin with. At 8am on Sunday (this is a rough guess) after being awake all night, dancing my little feet off we went back home for a "breather" and a few refreshments, we called a cab because we wanted to go to Egg (club in London that opens to 11am) and one member of the group who shall remain unnamed, threatened the unlicensed cab company with their life (metaphorically) if they didn't come pick us up immediately. Not surprisingly, now, but surprisingly at the time, we couldn't figure out why they didn't come... oh dear.
I also attempted to climb into the "boys only" attic party. And I made it up. There were lots of goodies up there. It was cold though (read: heating doesn't extend to the attic). I looked on as they bench pressed a TV in each hand (?) and discussed why they needed to take a toaster up there. But then when I wanted to come down, I misjudged the distance from my foot to the ladder... basically I am too short and wouldn't have made it anyway. I now have these two ugly bruises to prove it. They are not even at that yellowish-purple stage yet and already it looks like I'm part of an abusive relationship.
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