Plodding along

Not much to report. One (Andrew...) might ask why I am bothering to write this, but am stuck at home in the flat (cant even sunbathe on the roof as it is overcast) as I have $0.00 with which to do anything.

Yes, the fantastic combination of the UK and Australian banking systems which promised a maximum of 4 working days for the transfer has lied to me. And Kirk got up too early for me to beg cash off him this morning. It is a strange feeling having no access to money at all...even my credit cards have failed me. I think this may be a sign. However, as the local area specialises in wedding dress shops I dont have too much temptation. Although it would be nice to afford to buy some food for breakfast/lunch... ah well, there is beer. That counts as nutrition right?

First official Aussie barbeque on Sunday at Balmoral beach. Sea = warm, bikini = forgotten due to crushing hangover. Met an incredibly ugly dog (yes, even worse than Captain Sparky who holds pride of place as my official photo at the moment).

Hopefully seeing a very old and lovely friend this evening (if I can scrounge some cash). She has lucked out and is living seconds from Bondi. Reports of Hugh Jackman there every day abound. I may have to move there and live in a tent or a dustbin.

Amanda has pointed out to me the local brothel. It is surprisingly full every morning. Not quite that desperate for cash yet...

Email me with news/randomness. Cashless beth is lonely! (erm this last comment only applies to my actual friends as opposed to the random people in Germany/US that google informs me are reading this blog...)

 

Ode to a lost love

I lie in bed,
Consumed by waves of nausea,
Pondering that most important of questions,
Whether it is worth running to the bathroom to vomit,
Or whether to just end it all to escape this feeling.

For how does one survive a hangover,
With no access to Berocca?

Oh why have you forsaken me?
I definitely packed you in my suitcase,
Traitor. Treacherous scum.
Bathroom it is then...

And so it begins

Hi Kids!

So... I have started a blog so I can tell you all what I'm doing. This will be incredibly dull after the first few sentences so feel free to tune out! Sadly, I am no journalist in the style of our Ms Buchdahl so what will appear will be a random collection of thoughts, observations and feelings. hahaha got you there - feelings? NEVAIR!!!

The flight started out well - pretty much all the Disney films on demand - best way to keep me happy. The second half from Dubai to Sydney went rather downhill. After about 3 hrs of freezing my ass off I suddenly became incredibly overheated and dizzy and started blacking out. For any of you who haven't ever witnessed one of my little 'episodes' - they are caused by v low bloodpressure, look very silly and last a very short amount of time. My overwhelming feeling is one of embarrasment.

However on an airplane they have to take things seriously apparently. Cue manhandling by stewards to get me on the floor (diggidy...) with my legs elevated (and again). I favoured the chair as a method of elevating the legs. No, it had to be the incredibly young and adorably cute air stewards shoulders apparently. Protocol etc. Hahaha I'm not sure who was more embarassed, me or him! Luckily I had an oxygen mask to hide my giggles!

So no harm done and arrived in one piece! Have hooked myself up with a bus pass (ooooo) and a bank account (currently still empty...) The bus journeys into the city mostly involve me giggling at things. Such as men in Ugg boots. And crocs. Yet with no sense of irony about it. Mad surely? Have also identified my local tattoo parlour, appropriately named 'House of Pain'. Don't think I will become a regular there.

Off out now for drinks, big love to all

Bxx