18 February 2007


... what a weekend! Top stuff!

Feeling a little blurred by the action of a Sydney blitz. All the best bits, which somehow simultaneously remind me of why I enjoy visiting + not actually living there! Is that a complete contradiction?

I got to see Steve + Kenan finally. Love those guys. Love the way they insist on treating me to a night at a ritzy restaurant every time I visit them. Loved the food + cocktails at Lotus + was awed, as usual, by the eastern suburbs crowd. Cashed to the hilt. Princess girls with impeccable, tiny outfits + stilt-like stilettos. Boys in the kind of crappy fluro boardshorts + tennis shoes I would've worn to a primary-school sports carnival in 1988. The first of many moments of feeling old. Wanting to shake them + say c'mon guys, make an effort.

Brekky on Saturday with gorgeous Bec + Joel, + the attention-grabbing Tyra. (How much energy can one little staffy contain? I think Tyra could power her own electricity sub-station.) Chorizo, haloumi, brioche, sour cherries + honeycomb butter... spoilt by all the choice that the Gong can't seem to provide.

Next... on to Good Vibrations! The glitz, the glamour, the 80s-style excess. It was nutso! About a zillion people, according to my dubious powers of estimation, in various states of undress + intoxication. Some amazing music, with Beasties + Cassius being my major highlights. Some of my sweetheart mates. It was great to hang out with Nat + Scott, + - eventually, after hours of chasing - Mat, Sarah + crew. I never did find Sal, which was a bummer. Dancing. Vodka + pineapple juice. Sore legs. Cool kids. I had so so much fun.

It was funny, driving home + thinking back over the last week or so. I felt so happy in the brain-space-bubble of my little car. But I'm in a rubber-band stage right now, bouncing between generic malaise + a sense of great happiness. I had no idea those two states could sit so close to each other but it seems that they can. I'm still recognising that I'm at the aforementioned midway-point, I guess. Wondering what comes next or if anything actually needs to formally Come Next. What a strange time + place we're in, we gen-x, gen-y. So little satisfaction when there is so much to be satisfied about. The new Bloc Party album was speaking to me on the drive. (Patchy as it is, it's still growing on me.) Some of the lyrics from 'Uniform' seemed to sum up the Sydney kids, + by extension, me.

...All the young people looked the same
Wearing their maks of cool + indifference
Commerce dressed up as rebellion

Cos we're so handsome and we're so bored
So entertain us, tell me a joke
Make it long, make it last
Make it cruel, just make me laugh
We can't be hurt, we can't be hurt

Drink to forget your blues on the weekend
Think about more things to buy
The tv taught me how to sulk + love nothing
And how to grow my hair long

You can be happy
Just play dumb

I want to relinquish my spot in the throw-away generation + find more ways to relish what I've got. I mean, seriously, how good is my life!?! Pretty bloody good. Toni gave me a brilliant piece of advice last week + I'm going to adopt it as my new motto. So short but so very sweet...