This is a blog about travel, culture and the observation of human behaviour.
Once upon a time, a city girl decided to leave little P town for London city but then somehow ended up in Ireland, and then to the other side of Australia.....
The unofficial party rules as said by E. with side comments by me.
1) You need to invite 2x as many people are you want to come and half of them will drop out or not reply 2) You can't charge them (or there must be a free option) - ask them to bring something if you want, if you want nice stuff for your party, you just have to sub it yourself if the brings aren't good enough 3) You need to vet and assess the guest list - invite people in groups of friends to assure they all show up. If you have a lot of girls, then a lot of boys come. 4) You need to manage numbers - if you have a peak attendance of 20 say, then you will only have four at the beginning and maybe 8 towards the end. The beginning could be really boring, so you have to make sure those four don't leave and undermine your peak headcount 5) There needs to be food, but it shouldn't take focus of the party planning unless its a dinner party (This in IMO is country dependant - more true to England rather than somewhere like Singapore.) 6) You need phases to the evening, meet and greet, eat, dancing 7) It is must be easy to get to and get home (More so in public transport dependant cities such as London and New York) 8) You must not run out of drink 9) There must be music, mood/background to begin with, then something to dance to later.
There are four types of people when it comes to parties: 1) The friends who show up/attend regardless of the venue, who is attending or type of party/function. They attend because of YOU. Friends like these are like gold dust and should never be taken for granted. 2) Friends who require incentives ie: whether it be the type of music, venue or food. 3) Friends who come by association. They only come if "so-and-so" attends. 4) "Friends" who say they're coming with no intention of ever attending.
It's no secret that I don't want children. Being realistic with my possible "career change" and desire not to be some billion miles away from the city, stuck in the 'burbs with three screaming kids complete with hair curlers in my hair, having children is just not a realistic option. I don't earn enough to support the lifestyle I want AND have kids. Plus, with everybody ignoring the elephant in the room when it comes to global warming, (ie: our earth is going to shit because we humans are over-populating a planet that cannot continue to sustain our exponentially growing population), somebody has to step in and make the ultimate sacrifice. Hopefully one day this sacrifice will be counted as a valid tax deduction. I think people should be taxed more if they have more children - it's additional carbon footprint, after all. I'm also annoyed with the fact that my tax payer's money is being used to support people who are financially incapable of independently providing for their children. Why should I be the one paying for somebody else's stupidity and inability to manage themselves? Having children is a privilege, not an entitlement. But then, that's another story......
So where does that leave me? Over the past month, I've started to become more acutely aware that I'm about to lose a whole bevy of friends in the next few years to coupling and children..... Mothers with babies tend to all of a sudden inherit a whole new group of friends (ie: more mothers and babies,) and if you're not a part of that club, you tend to end up being left out in the cold, so to speak. I'm sure there are exceptions to the rule, but I think this rings true for the majority. It's not that I'm blaming anyone or saying that it's intentional. Children are all consuming, and unless you're extremely extremely important and your friend makes a conscious effort, friendships don't really stand a chance. Being unattached becomes a social problem as you grow older. It's the dilemma of every smug couple - trying to fit in a single person into their dinner party. It's awkward to have an odd number so the single person inevitably ends up being paired with whatever loser the smug couple so happens to find. (Omg, Bridget Jones was right.) A good friend recently told me of his narrow dinner party escape - couples with children plus one couple trying (to have children). He panicked and made up a lame excuse not to go at the very last minute, narrowly escaping an evening of baby talk complete with couple (who had no kids) breaking down and crying, because they were the only ones who didn't have kids. God help us all.
I use to be critical of guys in their early thirties hanging out with people in their early twenties. "Shouldn't they be hanging out with people their own age?" were my thoughts. Now I've come to realise that it's a classic case of arrested development. Friends of their age had probably moved own with coupling and children, leaving them no choice but to hang out with younger people who have not reached that stage.
Maybe I should try and join the bandwagon. Being coupled up will be the minimum, but then the issue is trying to find someone. Many girls have told me, "Nobody is perfect," but then, I'm not after perfection. The problem is trying to find that intense connection and attraction. There's also an expectation of intimacy somewhere down the line. Not sure how people do it, or whether they just compromise. Will keep you posted.
In true tradition, Christmases in Perth are hot, with an even hotter Breakfest on boxing day.
Typical Perthian festival wear: shorts, singlets, thongs and big wrap around shades.
While the more daring (read: slutty) girls wear bikini tops and teeeny tiny hot pants, for me, it's a vintage sundress, heart shaped sunglasses and cool looking fake eyelashes.
Add illegal bubble blowing to the mix and some friends of old, you've got yourself a 10 year Breakfest reunion.
The Highlights: - A cracking set from Soul of Man
- That time of day when the sun starts to set, and that cool breeze starts blowing through the amphitheatre. - Catching up with old friends Worst Pick-Up Line Leading to the Quickest Get Away - "This is my wife, she's into girls". (He was unattractive and she wasn't much better, so I left.)
The Low Lights - Freestylers so-so set. - Plump DJ's forgettable set - Freq Nasty's even more appalling set that had the same dub-step beat in practically every song.
As a whole, there wasn't a lot of break and the music tended to lean towards electro. Not my cup of tea, so perhaps this marks an end of an era and an end of a tradition.
And they said I couldn't write. Poetic prose, Closetblonde age 14. Even then I was trying to escape from camping...... I remember this moment well. It was the first and last time I've ever felt free.
There was something deliciously exciting and perhaps a little devilish about clumsily groping within the darkness to hurriedly bundle a soft, warm sleeping bag to a manageable size so it could fit under one arm. We desperately tried to control the violent urges of sweet sounding laughter surging and bubbling upwards to our mouths, like a fizzy drink that had been haphazardly shaken. We waited for the sounds of feet upon the red dusty coloured pebbles, along with the voices of the OTHERS, and the sharp bright glares of numerous torches swinging carelessly like lighthouses that were malfunctioning, to pass our cottage. After the moment had passed, we let out involuntary sighs of relief, gratefully gulping the cool, sweet night air to replenish the vital supply of oxygen to our momentarily deprived cells. Tonight was Skit Night. It was the chance for the OTHERS, the vain, pretentious and obnoxious fools with ample amounts of self confidence, to boast, bluster and display their so called abilities. It was their night.
Our night began tentatively within the darkness of the room by whispers from lips to ears. Our plans were like talks of mutiny among sailors of past times, of how to successfullly avoid the watchful eagle eyes of the camp leaders. After agreeing upon a considerably flawed plan, we gingerly crept out of the cottage, grimacing at every squeak and creak the worn wood of the vernada made due to the weight of our bodies. We shuddered at every pebbling crunching, rolling and rattling beneath every step, and ignored the seething dull blunt pain that bruised our soft, fair and un-calloused feet. We crouched concealing ourselves among the wild gum trees with sudden apprehension, expecting some authoritative person to foil our plan of escape. With the unexpected anticlimax dissipating our uneasiness and cautiousness into the atmosphere, we broke out in tremendous audacity to fearlessly run onto the damp, luscious field of grass, defiantly running out of our boundaries and restricitons. Sprinting with our adrenaline pumping and our muscles working at top speed, our minds focus upon the beach ahead. Aches and breathlessness could not spoilt the uppermost feeling of euphoria. Even the abrasive stoned steps leading ot the beach, that cruelly stung soles used to the softest socks, could not prevent us from feeling that the highest form of freedom and happiness was ours to keep. Our laughter, pure blissfulness, sounded gold and silver, and reverberated around us in perfect harmony. It was like a precious gift to the gods above in thanks and gratitude that the beach was in the proximinty of the camp, and that we had escaped the OTHERS.
The beach was serene, tranquil and untouched by the inhabitnats of the day. Its natural beauty enabled it to look wild, uninhabited and yet so quiet and inviting, making the place ours in that instant. We ran without retrains like light-hearted children so unaware of the dangers of the world, kicking the grains of powdery white sand, moving further away from the camp. Deeply breathing in the sharp and tangy smells of the sea and the beach, we flopped upon the cool, soft powder like sand and cover our bodies with the warm sleeping bag. The sun had almost set, changing the clear cloudless sky to rich colours from dark blue to rich burgundy orange, and a hint of cornflower blue so small, that it almost went unnoticed. The last of the sun's light altered the pale blue waters to become iridescent. The inevitable moment appeared when the last of the perfectly circular golden rim of the sun suspended upon the sky, fought to prevent itself from disappearing behind the hills far away. The magic of that instant occured simultaneously in one sensusous display, as the sun disappeared from the world. More beauty was to be unveiled and unfolded before our eyes. The city lights across the translucent waters twinkled mischievously before our astonishment. The sky darkened to a deep navy to slowly reveal the first stars of the night, and a cool breeze playfully blew our glossy sun-streaked hair away from our faces. This morphing effect distinguishing the world from day and night left us exhilirated and satisfied, as we slowly lay down upon the soft bed of pure white sand.
Listening to the waves peacefully bubble upon the smooth wet sand enchanted us like nothing before. The crisp fresh smell of the evening air made us forget all our troubles, worries and anxieties, allowing us to focus on the beauty of the night. The luminous sky dotted with thousands of sparkling stars showed us how it twinkled in the past, travelling at the speed of light to our present. Most of all, the sky portrayed the look of a ceiling wall of paper that was alive to inspire us. The surrounding beauty broke down all barriers, bringing the bond between us to a different level that ran deeper than blood. Pure unrestrained fantasies of our ambitions and inspirations bubbled from our lips to form the most delightful conversations. Comments overflowed from our minds with ease were never so witty, sharp and humorous, and it was as if we were possessed with some special power, like a gift from the gods living among the stars. We languidly lay upon the sand that was warmed by our bodies. It speckled silver grains of crystal when reflected by milky yellow ribbons of moon beams. The moon, perfectly round and opaque allowed its beams to dance silver and diamond above the small bobbing waves. Time itself had stopped. We had eternity and yet so sadly, eternity was only ours for a limited time.
Amidst our talk and laughter, we felt the presence of good natured ghosts, ghouls and fairies shyly creeping closer to sit upon the silken sand, to listen and enjoy the warmth of our conversation. One may have been able to hear a faint chuckle of a fairy travelling through the wind like the melodious sounds of wind chimes, but this was not to be. A silhouette loomed over our faces before the sight of a shadow brandishing a blazing torch blinded us with the light. All the fairy folk, enigma and enchantment of the early hours of the morning fled from the beach, leaving the world seeming absurd and frivolous, and a stern camp leader berating and chastising us for our visit to the beach.
This one is for D. Thanks for tagging along with me.
.....on the overland train, towards Heathrow zone four, There's a fascinating land to explore. There's bric-a-brac stores and no glossy malls, and this land is known as Southall. You can go the the pub, buy a beer with rupees, Or exchange your taka, it's easy you see.
There's sticky jalabi for you and me, And another store selling STD's. Your local cinema is Bollywood and Hindi There's no Odeon as far as you can see. And in this land you can almost forget, That one is in London and not close to Tibet.
