January 2008

I'm cold, I'm wet and I'm just plain scared!

Actually, I wasn't cold. It was quite warm, really. To be honest, I was scared either. That just leaves wet. Yes, that's it. I was wet.

From the moment we touched down in Lismore to the moment we flew out again, it rained. When it wasn't raining, it was pouring. If it wasn't raining or pouring it monsooned. I guess what I'm trying to get across here is that there was a great deal of precipitation for the entire time that we were there.

Just because Jimi and I were locked up
in a concrete cell together doesn't mean
we went completely stir crazy.
. . . much.

It didn't dampen our sprits though. The spirit is an esoteric concept and as such is incapable of absorbing moisture. And that's a good thing. Because it bucketed down.

Jimi, Greig and I were staying in a lead lined concrete bunker in the centre of town. As such it had no ventilation and even less mobile phone reception. That wouldn't normally matter so much except that we were stuck there quite a bit. We did get to watch one of the worst films I've ever seen on TV though - Snakes on a Plane.

But you don't want to hear about what happened in a motel room. You want to hear what happened at the Tropical Fruits New Years Eve Party.

Well, it rained.

It's a good thing these party things are held indoors. Water from the sky is less of an issue. It did manage to slow to a mild drizzle for the fireworks at midnight though, which was good. Unfortunately, I managed to lose all of my friends just before midnight so I missed out on the traditional new years snog-fest. Which was bad. I managed to find them shortly afterwards though. Which was good.

The party, as expected, was fun. I bumped into a few familiar faces but made no new friends. Greig and I managed to last until the bitter end, only to discover that we would have to queue outside for about half an hour for a taxi. Have I mentioned the rain?

Dodgy phone camera pic of
all the boys going ooh and ahhh
at the fireworks.

Once we got back to our concrete box, we dried off and rested. The Pool Party was due to start at 10am. For some reason however, going to the pool and jumping in the water when it was raining just didn't appeal. It's completely illogical, I know. God knows, we weren't gonna get much more wet than we already were! Non-the-less, we chose to remain in bed instead.

Jimi was restless. Apparently he couldn't sleep. He just kept wandering around proclaiming that he was bored. We despatched him to sit in the hall outside and read a book. I mean if he was that bored, why didn't he go to the Pool Party?

I did drag myself out of bed at 6pm to get ready for the Recovery Party. Greig chose to sit this one out so Jimi and I headed in nice and early, in time for the pre party BBQ. Bizarrely, despite having not eaten anything for over 24 hours, Jimi wasn't hungry. I ate his share.

But then, something strange happened. Something wondrous. Something that made us all reflect on our place on this planet. It stopped raining. Not only did it stop raining, but the clouds parted and the sun came out. It was bright. It was sunny. It was warm. It was beautiful. It was short lived.

Once the music started, Jimi and I headed straight for the dance floor. Oddly enough, despite no sleep and no food he still seemed to be full of energy and needed to dance. At this stage there were about six of us on the dance floor. Everyone else was outside staring at the strange bright glowy thing in the sky. Soon afterwards everyone else came running it, shaking the wet from their clothes.

I must admit, I enjoyed the recovery party more than the main party the previous night. The music and general vibe was just more to my liking. Jimi disappeared with a new friend leaving me to fend for myself.

Having been stung by the long wait for a cab in the rain the previous night, I left the party about half an hour before official close. By the time I got home I was ready to crash, and crash I did. For most of the day.

We flew out of Lismore the following day, just as the bad weather was starting to roll in for earnest. A few days after arriving home, the Northern Rivers region was declared a disaster area from flooding.

In other news . . .

Apart from New Years, there was plenty on this month. Soon after arriving back in Sydney, we wandered into town for the Sydney Festival launch. It seems the rain followed us from Lismore, but it wasn't too bad. Martin Place was packed with wide eyed teenagers (literally) jumping up and down on the spot to the sounds of Plump DJ's. There was nothing else that we could than jump up and down on the spot with them.

There were a LOT of people in Martin Place for the Sydney Festival launch.

Rod and Daisy held their annual Summer Party in the back yard of their St Peters home. Greig had been out at Retro Night at fARQ the previous evening so he bailed and stayed at home sleeping. Jimi and I went along and waved the flag on behalf of The Shed. A very popular and very drunken affair.

Speaking of Jimi, he flew back to Paris late in the month. He never did manage to get his student visa. Apparently the French don't like it when a guy who is legally married to one of their citizens try to live in the country with their partner. He's now intending to finish the application for his Polish passport so that he can at least be a citizen on Europe.

Other fun things were seeing the stage show of Billy Elliot at the Capitol Theatre. There was a small group of us, Bailey, Sam & Chris and Greig & myself. We started out with a couple of drinks and then found ourselves a restaurant in Chinatown. Unfortunately we couldn't eat at our first choice after some unpleasantness between Bailey and the waiter. We immediately disallowed Bailey from talking to staff and managed to negotiate a table at another restaurant.

The show itself displayed brilliant staging, excellent singing. good acting but only half the orchestra that he score really required. A sequencer and a few sound modules simply don't cut it for a show of this scale. It became very obvious when they also inserted pieces of pre-recorded music. Still, well worth a look.

The evening was finished off with drinks at The Shift. Probably too many drinks, really.

January, of course, is my birthday. Greig and Jimi organised a fun night out at a restaurant in Darlinghurst. It was a fairly rowdy affair with a group of about 8 at our table, eating, drinking and being stupid. We then retired to a local pub where the stupidity continued. The highlight in stupidity would probably be Sam giving me pointers on how to appear to be an "aggressive straight yob". The barman nearest us actually looked worried for a while there.

Luckily he didn't call a bouncer and get us thrown out for fighting in the bar.