Ahh, life
If home is where the heart is, I feel as though I’m out on the street at the moment.
It could just be a case of the old end-of-holiday blues. It could be in part returning to the reminder that the house is still in limbo, still shared, the point of closure not yet reached, too easy a distraction from getting on with life. It could be a side effect of feeling tired from trying to keep the next illness at bay, it could be something else.
However, thankfully, that feeling is gently receding. I’m glad I’m able to get over things quickly nowadays, it’s fantastic.
But let me not be distracted by minor thoughts of what isn’t happy. Let me instead dwell upon what has captured a part of my heart in such a way that’s absolutely beautiful, a dawning of my own new age of discovery.
Melbourne.
Wow. Just wow. I never expected it’d resonate with me in such a way. I have been to Brisbane, the Gold Coast, and Sydney, but they did little for me (Mind, I was different then, and also being with someone who prefers to do things a different way makes it a little harder). Melbourne however, there was something about it.
I was definitely in the right state of mind - Extremely excited to be going over there, the first time ever I’ve broken out of my comfort zone and travelled somewhere by myself (Though that didn’t end up being the case, though in a way a good thing, my friend was an extremely handy guide in giving me a run down on the city. Next time though ;P). I was grinning in the airport, I was smiling on the flight. I was ecstatic on the touchdown, and the grin returned the moment I stepped out the door into the brisk wind, scarf gently aflutter in anticipation.
I fear the day I become a seasoned traveller who fails to see the joy of touching down at an airport, cannot muster a grin at entering a new city, or even a less travelled one. Even the aforementioned locations still gave me a thrill upon arrival.
Skipping the boring trip in, we finally arrived in the city. By the gods, I was awestruck. I felt like a country bumpkin making his first visit to the big smoke, and must have looked like a royal twat, grinning madly, eyes wide open and darting around trying to drink in every detail. It’s funny, I’ve been to Jakarta (Though only briefly), and whilst I was in awe of its endless sprawl, it was just that - sprawl. Nothing truly pleasing to the eye, just building after same building, appearing out of the smoke, then disappearing back into it, punctuated by the twinned and tripleted exclamations of tall hotels. Plus, I viewed the world with a different eye back then.
Anyway. Firstly a little trekking up one of the main roads, trying to take in the overwhelming (To a simple person like myself) amount of different shops, enjoying the busy pavement, basking in the feeling of something that can’t really be easily described. Then, off to an alley full of little cafes for some breakfast.
Stone me blue. Love had begun. Off from a dark little side street, into a smaller darker alleyway, there did joy await me. A number of cafes, a wall of delicious aroma, whetting my appetite and making my heart race. For once, the prospect of feeding my hunger did not excite me. It was the feel. It felt so unique compared to what I was used to, so comforting, like somewhere that I was meant to be. Upon finally choosing one and going in, that feeling was only amplified. The tasteful interior, the small space with really high ceilings, I felt like I was coming home for a proper breakfast at long last.
After a delicious feed, more trekking, a walk past the casino, a visit to the aquarium, more taking in the immense size compared to Perth, and then finally giving in to the temptation of “It’s a working day, I’m not working, it’s before lunch, lets visit a pub”. Picked a pub, went in, and thus went a number of hours. Moved venue, met my friendly host, and went back to his place. Then out again, onto a night of heavy consumption of large amounts of alcohol. Oh cheap jugs, how I love thee. And much to my amazement, I was talking to many various people, introducing myself, chatting about this and that. It was fantastic!
By golly, not just my mind has strengthened recently. My liver has undergone a metamorphosis too. In the past, drinking more than one type of drink would typically result in some form of hangover of unpleasantry. Not anymore it seems (My white > red > white wine tonight will let me know though ;)). First cider at the pub, then one type of beer at the house, then another at the pub we trekked to. In this case, “another” being a monstrous amount. Ahh, $10 jugs, how I love thee.
Digression. This is where a bit of fun starts.
So the jugs are going down nicely, and I’m becoming quite friendly. Without realising it, there’re these two extras on the table, a guy and a girl, who appear to be annoying everyone else. Me being me, I start chatting to them. The girl ain’t so bad, but the guy is gay and is letting everyone get him down. So I give him a solid wall of good words (Hey, I’ve just been broken up with by my wife, and I’m taking it fantastically - ‘sif I’m going to pass up the chance to pass on some of the strength on to help someone who’s worried about everyone else’s views on their identity), and they finally leave (Though the girl kept on insisting something about cutting my hair a particular way). Everyone else at the table cheers, and congratulates me.
However, I turn around twenty minutes later, and notice them hanging around further up the street, obviously having done a disappearing/reappearing act. In the way that you do, I turned to everyone else, and let them know that they were back. Upon this notification, one of the guys breaks away and dashes over to them. I just shrugged, and turned back to the important task of drinking and socialising. Time passes, I glance over in that direction, and… They’re not there. Hmmm, weird. Shrug again, look away. A bit more later (I have no idea about what sort of time passed, things were a bit of a blur at that point. Yeah, a blur >_>), I check again, and there’s no sign of them. I become a little concerned, imagining some kidney robbing action to be taking place, so I pop up, and dash off to check down the alleys. First alley, nothing. Second alley, nothing. Oh crap. Head back, and tell everyone. They’re not worried. I down another. Then I pop up again, head back up, and notice, finally, on the other side of the street, there they are!
I turn about to announce the discovery, but already the rest of our group is on their way (Apparently it was stumps at the bar - what timing!). And then… We went back with these two people back to the guy’s house. Hmmm. Buuuuut… I was toasted. And in the mood for adventure.
And what adventure! Into a dingy house, into a dodgy room. People took their places, music was put on, an instrument picked up and a tune added to the beat. Around was shared a gooner, then out came the dodgy smokables.
I didn’t mention it, but a little earlier, my friend, who I’ve never seen drunk before (Especially not this off chop) made me smoke a cigarette. At first I treated it like a cigar and bummed it (I like savouring the flavour), but he pushed at my susceptibility and made me give in, and I smoked a cigarette, deep into my lungs, without coughing them up. Hell not proud about that, bad bloody things!
So there we are. That old particular that has never affected me (Kid you not) is on offer, and all but that particular guy & girl are partaking. Thanks to the drink, I don’t have much luck in breathing much in, but that’s more than likely for the better. However, my friend took a massive hit, because not too long after, the drink & smoke hits him. Always in the past I’ve been the Cadbury kid, and everyone else the ones who can take their drink. But this night, my friend was really well done in by the alcohol, whereas I got pissed early, and stayed at that level the entire night. Anyhow. It hit him. And he started tripping absolute paranoid balls.
I’d gone to the toilet. When I returned, he dashed out of the room, grabbed hold of me, and told me “We have to get out of here, we really have to, they slipped me something, something is wrong, I know it’s wrong, we have to go”. Well, let me tell you, whatever it is that kicked in, I wish I could do it by reflex. I dumped half the blur and immediately went into “Shit ain’t right” mode. Instead of freaking, I spoke calmly. So calmly, that I honestly wish that there was someone who would speak like that to me (There’ve been many situations in my life where the voice I employed would’ve done me good, but alas).
He looked ready to puke, the odd looking housemate looks worried about vomit in the house (But used to people coming in/doing what was done/tripping balls), so I took him out. We made it four steps out, and then he just kinda flopped, half on the walk, half in the garden, muttering all the while paranoid worries. I’m not much for talking myself up, but I was dead calm, and deadly reassuring. I was drinking in every single detail, the speed of his breath, the colour of his skin (Even in the very dim light), reactions, speech. First aid training was racing back, ready to be employed, my mind set on seeing him through it.
You need to realise, even though I’ve lived with people who’ve done drugs a hell of a lot more regularly, I’d never seen them hit a state of complete freaking out. A minor amount, which’d led me to drunken search for hidden video cameras/microphones (or maybe I created that idea in myself - Alcohol is drug enough for me), but nothing had prepared me for this.
So I was ready to call an ambo if need be. Mind completely on the job, when the guy of the duo came out, claimed he was fine, then was pushing for me to come back inside. I didn’t like that one bit. I do not respect someone if they try to push someone else away from caring for another person, unless that person is a trained professional who can see that the care would do more harm than good. And this guy was definitely not trained. Thankfully, one of the other guys came out, passed me his phone, and told me to call a taxi. Heh, that was interesting. I had no idea where we were. My only choice was to ask the downed one, and whilst I was getting babble, the girl on the other end sounded somewhat disbelieving. But, I think the waver in my voice made it solid, I got the address, and a taxi turned up. Kudos to Melbourne taxi’s on early Thursday mornings, they stick around for many minutes.
Eventually got him up, and into the car. Then he started freaking out more, claiming there really was something mysterious slipped to him, and that we needed to get to the hospital, urgently needed to get to the hospital, right now, right now. The car started moving. Luckily, the host of I came out just before the taxi hit the event horizon, shouted out, and we didn’t disappear off to an embarrassing situation. He jumped in, appraised the downed one, and claimed it was nothing to worry about. Thankfully, I knew I could trust this guy (Trust me, I knew I could), so back to his place.
Then the impressive moment came. He was fucked. Motor control shot. But when the need to vomit came up, he spun up from hugging me (People who need comfort _need_ it, that’s my philosophy), tackled the taxi door, opened it with ease, leaned out, and upped his guts. I was right behind him, and had a firm hold on his shoulders as so to prevent him from toppling out of a moving taxi to facepalm the ground. Kudos to the driver, who just looked a bit uncomfortable. Kinda like someone who expects an occupant to pull a knife actually… Haha. Anyway, other guy pulls his camera, tries to take photos, but fails miserably (Somehow activated video mode, and it was a shit short video :P)
Get back, get him on the couch, a bucket, some water. Bit more upchuck, made him drink a bit of water in small sips, then let him crash. Though I let my training kick in, and put him in the recovery position. Just because I could :P
And that led onto really delicious BLT’s at 2am Thursday morning. Yum!
Thursday. Rockclimbing was intended. Climbing partner was too tender for anything. So it ended up being a bit of a wander, then a pub lunch. Oh dear god, the price of the food and the quality, I want to cry at the memory. Buggerit, I deserve to squeeze out a tear for it. Ahh, there we go. Sooo goooood.
Delicious lunch and a few ciders later, we trot over to the venue that we were going to visit the night following. Nice place. Have another couple of drinks. The tender princess is unable to touch anything alcoholic, whereas I’m tucking in again. By golly did I impress myself. Then it’s time for me to dash off and train it to my friend’s place to catch up with him and meet his lovely fiancée. It was a train trip of constant smiling, viewing the beautiful architecture, so much federation style housing, and all the interesting graffiti along the way. That was a really nice night, he’s a top guy. Lotta good conversation, then a long sleep.
Friday. Head back to where I was staying. Shit, shower & shave, and become human. It’s the exciting day. For that night, I get to meet many of the names that I only knew across the internet, including the person who rightfully claims the title of being my second oldest friend. Anyway, finished a second breakfast, and heading into the CBD. Did I mention I love the Melbourne CBD? I do. Wandered around a bit, visited the famed Minotaur, was severely unimpressed by the lack of roleplaying gear (I wanted special Melbourne dice so I could hopefully roll some freaking better numbers, dammit! Now I either have to wait until I return there, or make my own!), let myself be hooked in by a really cute girl trying to fundraise for some really big animal shelter, chatted to her, admitted I couldn’t donate anything at the current time, but maybe in a few months. Anyway, got a phonecall, another friend was in town, time to meet up for drinks.
So, three of us hooked up, and we trotted off to have a really fucking flash burger. Grill’d. Jesus. Burger of instant orgasm++. Why oh why does there have to be so many tasty places in Melbourne? Following that, off we wandered to the casino (Such a freaking long walk I forgot, I still feel so guilty for dragging them so far!), to catch up with more of my friends (I’m so glad I caught up with who I did, it really made the holiday :)). A number of drinks later, it was time to head to the Spleen to setup shop in waiting for the coming evening.
I won’t go into too much detail, bar that I drank a lot, a _hell_ of a lot, and that it was a freaking great night, meeting new faces, old friends, chatting to random people and finding out many of them had moved over from Perth themselves, somehow making myself up to a really classy bar and quaffing a really nice German banana beer, returning, the group heading off to Gaylord’s for dinner (Haha Gaylord), making a mess, returning to the spleen, getting a man-pash (And the look on the random girl’s face was golden!), getting random people up to dance, myself dancing like a crazy spaz, leaving, following others to a random nightclub thingy, entering, leaving, something something I think, back to my host’s place for 6am tacos which were really really freaking tasty. Then it was crash time.
Woke up later, went out and bought my host a carton of Stone’s ginger beer for his generosity of putting me up, especially considering we’d never talked online, never met, didn’t really know each other. Honestly, he was a really fucking great guy, I’m damn stoked I got to surf his couch. Cracked a couple, and then I headed out for the last time, feeling a bit toasted. Into town, caught up with another friend, more drinks, another friend joined us, off to another bar, a really awesome little downstairs place, art along all the walls, decked out with lots of couches, awesome music, just another reason for me to love Melbourne.
Then it was time for me to dash and catch up with one last friend, who showed me to a most amazingly awesome little hidden away bar (I can see myself returning there in future visits :)), then off to a little restaurant where she was meeting friends, where we waited in the bar area for a bit, then went down to the eating area. Then, it was time for me to take my leave, and make my way back to the airport.
Uneventful trip to the airport, uneventful wait (Two beers and a sandwich), uneventful flight. Back home I got, my lift was waiting, and then back to the house I was returned. And thus, back home I am.
I dunno. The unease of being home is definitely improving. But… there’s still a large part of me that hasn’t returned. It’s either fallen in love with travelling, or it’s fallen in love with Melbourne.
By the gods, were there some amazingly beautiful females over there. As corny as it sounds, sometimes when I see/meet someone who really makes me melt, I picture myself falling onto a bed with my arms and legs straight out, and then rolling around with the blankets forming a cocoon around me. Bizarre, but me. And that emotion was touched many a time. Oh how much it cheered my heart to have a brief chat, to catch their eye, to make them smile from afar. Ahh, I think I’m a terrible romantic at heart nowadays, as there’s so many who I’d love to wine & dine, instead of jump & dump. I want to get to know many more people, and I felt so comfortable doing so over there :)
It’s funny really. I’ve had a couple of silly little reasons to be tied to Melbourne over the years, really silly really little reasons. The first was the shirt. A horrible aqua colour with MELBOURNE written across it in pink letters. When I went on a camping trip for school one year, I accidentally only packed that one, and had the royal shit pulled out of me for it, which sucked and upset the heck out of me. Then, years later, in informal footy tipping at school, one day it was Freo vs Melbourne, and my form teacher was a staunch Freo supporter, so to stir her up, I vocally went for Melbourne, the worst team at that time. And of course, they won.
I dunno. Sometimes I read into the minute details too much. But, it does add to the value of my life, so I don’t think I really worry that much.
I want to visit the other capitals now, Sydney, Adelaide, Canberra, Darwin, possibly Brisbane again. After that, jump over to Tasmania for some camping action, then stretch over to New Zealand for a few weeks to learn the beauty that it holds, and then who knows, from there, I might gain the bravery to leave the country, travel to other English speaking lands, and then face the areas where I can’t understand anyone and they can’t understand me. Oh, if only my damn Finnish citizenship would hurry the heck up!
All in all, this just continues to make me so glad about the breakup, so grateful that my life goes the way that it does, and that I’m starting to form who I want to be. It’s still a very long path, I still have a number of large issues to get over (The major one funnily enough causing itself to not be put up), but this brief trip has helped me immensely. Even though I lost a grip on the happiness for a day or so afterwards, I’ve gotten back on top of it now. It was a brief worry, and I’ll have to ponder it more, but the strengthening has been amazing.
Now. I intend to get out and socialise even more. Staying at home whilst the ex is still present does me no good whatsoever (It’s a clean breakup, we can stay friends, but that doesn’t stop it being hellishly uncomfortable with her here, and her having her “friends” coming into what will become my house). Getting out and talking to people, that does me a world of good. New sights, a different situation, it’s funny, but it’s so comforting.
Heh, and after seeing some of the brilliant layouts of houses, I’m somewhat keen to save up, then rip out the bathroom in 6~12 months time and start again, completely changing the layout and fitting more in. Can’t get over how sad the house seemed compared to where I’d stayed, and some of the other places I’d seen. And to me, that really says something.
I want to explore Perth more. I want to find what little interesting bits it has. That’ll fill the wait for heading back to Melbourne. And there, I can be reunited with part of my heart :)
I raise my now empty glass in toast to my first visit to that city, and I toast it for the many future visits I intend to do.
Ave Melbourne, to future dalliances :)
It could just be a case of the old end-of-holiday blues. It could be in part returning to the reminder that the house is still in limbo, still shared, the point of closure not yet reached, too easy a distraction from getting on with life. It could be a side effect of feeling tired from trying to keep the next illness at bay, it could be something else.
However, thankfully, that feeling is gently receding. I’m glad I’m able to get over things quickly nowadays, it’s fantastic.
But let me not be distracted by minor thoughts of what isn’t happy. Let me instead dwell upon what has captured a part of my heart in such a way that’s absolutely beautiful, a dawning of my own new age of discovery.
Melbourne.
Wow. Just wow. I never expected it’d resonate with me in such a way. I have been to Brisbane, the Gold Coast, and Sydney, but they did little for me (Mind, I was different then, and also being with someone who prefers to do things a different way makes it a little harder). Melbourne however, there was something about it.
I was definitely in the right state of mind - Extremely excited to be going over there, the first time ever I’ve broken out of my comfort zone and travelled somewhere by myself (Though that didn’t end up being the case, though in a way a good thing, my friend was an extremely handy guide in giving me a run down on the city. Next time though ;P). I was grinning in the airport, I was smiling on the flight. I was ecstatic on the touchdown, and the grin returned the moment I stepped out the door into the brisk wind, scarf gently aflutter in anticipation.
I fear the day I become a seasoned traveller who fails to see the joy of touching down at an airport, cannot muster a grin at entering a new city, or even a less travelled one. Even the aforementioned locations still gave me a thrill upon arrival.
Skipping the boring trip in, we finally arrived in the city. By the gods, I was awestruck. I felt like a country bumpkin making his first visit to the big smoke, and must have looked like a royal twat, grinning madly, eyes wide open and darting around trying to drink in every detail. It’s funny, I’ve been to Jakarta (Though only briefly), and whilst I was in awe of its endless sprawl, it was just that - sprawl. Nothing truly pleasing to the eye, just building after same building, appearing out of the smoke, then disappearing back into it, punctuated by the twinned and tripleted exclamations of tall hotels. Plus, I viewed the world with a different eye back then.
Anyway. Firstly a little trekking up one of the main roads, trying to take in the overwhelming (To a simple person like myself) amount of different shops, enjoying the busy pavement, basking in the feeling of something that can’t really be easily described. Then, off to an alley full of little cafes for some breakfast.
Stone me blue. Love had begun. Off from a dark little side street, into a smaller darker alleyway, there did joy await me. A number of cafes, a wall of delicious aroma, whetting my appetite and making my heart race. For once, the prospect of feeding my hunger did not excite me. It was the feel. It felt so unique compared to what I was used to, so comforting, like somewhere that I was meant to be. Upon finally choosing one and going in, that feeling was only amplified. The tasteful interior, the small space with really high ceilings, I felt like I was coming home for a proper breakfast at long last.
After a delicious feed, more trekking, a walk past the casino, a visit to the aquarium, more taking in the immense size compared to Perth, and then finally giving in to the temptation of “It’s a working day, I’m not working, it’s before lunch, lets visit a pub”. Picked a pub, went in, and thus went a number of hours. Moved venue, met my friendly host, and went back to his place. Then out again, onto a night of heavy consumption of large amounts of alcohol. Oh cheap jugs, how I love thee. And much to my amazement, I was talking to many various people, introducing myself, chatting about this and that. It was fantastic!
By golly, not just my mind has strengthened recently. My liver has undergone a metamorphosis too. In the past, drinking more than one type of drink would typically result in some form of hangover of unpleasantry. Not anymore it seems (My white > red > white wine tonight will let me know though ;)). First cider at the pub, then one type of beer at the house, then another at the pub we trekked to. In this case, “another” being a monstrous amount. Ahh, $10 jugs, how I love thee.
Digression. This is where a bit of fun starts.
So the jugs are going down nicely, and I’m becoming quite friendly. Without realising it, there’re these two extras on the table, a guy and a girl, who appear to be annoying everyone else. Me being me, I start chatting to them. The girl ain’t so bad, but the guy is gay and is letting everyone get him down. So I give him a solid wall of good words (Hey, I’ve just been broken up with by my wife, and I’m taking it fantastically - ‘sif I’m going to pass up the chance to pass on some of the strength on to help someone who’s worried about everyone else’s views on their identity), and they finally leave (Though the girl kept on insisting something about cutting my hair a particular way). Everyone else at the table cheers, and congratulates me.
However, I turn around twenty minutes later, and notice them hanging around further up the street, obviously having done a disappearing/reappearing act. In the way that you do, I turned to everyone else, and let them know that they were back. Upon this notification, one of the guys breaks away and dashes over to them. I just shrugged, and turned back to the important task of drinking and socialising. Time passes, I glance over in that direction, and… They’re not there. Hmmm, weird. Shrug again, look away. A bit more later (I have no idea about what sort of time passed, things were a bit of a blur at that point. Yeah, a blur >_>), I check again, and there’s no sign of them. I become a little concerned, imagining some kidney robbing action to be taking place, so I pop up, and dash off to check down the alleys. First alley, nothing. Second alley, nothing. Oh crap. Head back, and tell everyone. They’re not worried. I down another. Then I pop up again, head back up, and notice, finally, on the other side of the street, there they are!
I turn about to announce the discovery, but already the rest of our group is on their way (Apparently it was stumps at the bar - what timing!). And then… We went back with these two people back to the guy’s house. Hmmm. Buuuuut… I was toasted. And in the mood for adventure.
And what adventure! Into a dingy house, into a dodgy room. People took their places, music was put on, an instrument picked up and a tune added to the beat. Around was shared a gooner, then out came the dodgy smokables.
I didn’t mention it, but a little earlier, my friend, who I’ve never seen drunk before (Especially not this off chop) made me smoke a cigarette. At first I treated it like a cigar and bummed it (I like savouring the flavour), but he pushed at my susceptibility and made me give in, and I smoked a cigarette, deep into my lungs, without coughing them up. Hell not proud about that, bad bloody things!
So there we are. That old particular that has never affected me (Kid you not) is on offer, and all but that particular guy & girl are partaking. Thanks to the drink, I don’t have much luck in breathing much in, but that’s more than likely for the better. However, my friend took a massive hit, because not too long after, the drink & smoke hits him. Always in the past I’ve been the Cadbury kid, and everyone else the ones who can take their drink. But this night, my friend was really well done in by the alcohol, whereas I got pissed early, and stayed at that level the entire night. Anyhow. It hit him. And he started tripping absolute paranoid balls.
I’d gone to the toilet. When I returned, he dashed out of the room, grabbed hold of me, and told me “We have to get out of here, we really have to, they slipped me something, something is wrong, I know it’s wrong, we have to go”. Well, let me tell you, whatever it is that kicked in, I wish I could do it by reflex. I dumped half the blur and immediately went into “Shit ain’t right” mode. Instead of freaking, I spoke calmly. So calmly, that I honestly wish that there was someone who would speak like that to me (There’ve been many situations in my life where the voice I employed would’ve done me good, but alas).
He looked ready to puke, the odd looking housemate looks worried about vomit in the house (But used to people coming in/doing what was done/tripping balls), so I took him out. We made it four steps out, and then he just kinda flopped, half on the walk, half in the garden, muttering all the while paranoid worries. I’m not much for talking myself up, but I was dead calm, and deadly reassuring. I was drinking in every single detail, the speed of his breath, the colour of his skin (Even in the very dim light), reactions, speech. First aid training was racing back, ready to be employed, my mind set on seeing him through it.
You need to realise, even though I’ve lived with people who’ve done drugs a hell of a lot more regularly, I’d never seen them hit a state of complete freaking out. A minor amount, which’d led me to drunken search for hidden video cameras/microphones (or maybe I created that idea in myself - Alcohol is drug enough for me), but nothing had prepared me for this.
So I was ready to call an ambo if need be. Mind completely on the job, when the guy of the duo came out, claimed he was fine, then was pushing for me to come back inside. I didn’t like that one bit. I do not respect someone if they try to push someone else away from caring for another person, unless that person is a trained professional who can see that the care would do more harm than good. And this guy was definitely not trained. Thankfully, one of the other guys came out, passed me his phone, and told me to call a taxi. Heh, that was interesting. I had no idea where we were. My only choice was to ask the downed one, and whilst I was getting babble, the girl on the other end sounded somewhat disbelieving. But, I think the waver in my voice made it solid, I got the address, and a taxi turned up. Kudos to Melbourne taxi’s on early Thursday mornings, they stick around for many minutes.
Eventually got him up, and into the car. Then he started freaking out more, claiming there really was something mysterious slipped to him, and that we needed to get to the hospital, urgently needed to get to the hospital, right now, right now. The car started moving. Luckily, the host of I came out just before the taxi hit the event horizon, shouted out, and we didn’t disappear off to an embarrassing situation. He jumped in, appraised the downed one, and claimed it was nothing to worry about. Thankfully, I knew I could trust this guy (Trust me, I knew I could), so back to his place.
Then the impressive moment came. He was fucked. Motor control shot. But when the need to vomit came up, he spun up from hugging me (People who need comfort _need_ it, that’s my philosophy), tackled the taxi door, opened it with ease, leaned out, and upped his guts. I was right behind him, and had a firm hold on his shoulders as so to prevent him from toppling out of a moving taxi to facepalm the ground. Kudos to the driver, who just looked a bit uncomfortable. Kinda like someone who expects an occupant to pull a knife actually… Haha. Anyway, other guy pulls his camera, tries to take photos, but fails miserably (Somehow activated video mode, and it was a shit short video :P)
Get back, get him on the couch, a bucket, some water. Bit more upchuck, made him drink a bit of water in small sips, then let him crash. Though I let my training kick in, and put him in the recovery position. Just because I could :P
And that led onto really delicious BLT’s at 2am Thursday morning. Yum!
Thursday. Rockclimbing was intended. Climbing partner was too tender for anything. So it ended up being a bit of a wander, then a pub lunch. Oh dear god, the price of the food and the quality, I want to cry at the memory. Buggerit, I deserve to squeeze out a tear for it. Ahh, there we go. Sooo goooood.
Delicious lunch and a few ciders later, we trot over to the venue that we were going to visit the night following. Nice place. Have another couple of drinks. The tender princess is unable to touch anything alcoholic, whereas I’m tucking in again. By golly did I impress myself. Then it’s time for me to dash off and train it to my friend’s place to catch up with him and meet his lovely fiancée. It was a train trip of constant smiling, viewing the beautiful architecture, so much federation style housing, and all the interesting graffiti along the way. That was a really nice night, he’s a top guy. Lotta good conversation, then a long sleep.
Friday. Head back to where I was staying. Shit, shower & shave, and become human. It’s the exciting day. For that night, I get to meet many of the names that I only knew across the internet, including the person who rightfully claims the title of being my second oldest friend. Anyway, finished a second breakfast, and heading into the CBD. Did I mention I love the Melbourne CBD? I do. Wandered around a bit, visited the famed Minotaur, was severely unimpressed by the lack of roleplaying gear (I wanted special Melbourne dice so I could hopefully roll some freaking better numbers, dammit! Now I either have to wait until I return there, or make my own!), let myself be hooked in by a really cute girl trying to fundraise for some really big animal shelter, chatted to her, admitted I couldn’t donate anything at the current time, but maybe in a few months. Anyway, got a phonecall, another friend was in town, time to meet up for drinks.
So, three of us hooked up, and we trotted off to have a really fucking flash burger. Grill’d. Jesus. Burger of instant orgasm++. Why oh why does there have to be so many tasty places in Melbourne? Following that, off we wandered to the casino (Such a freaking long walk I forgot, I still feel so guilty for dragging them so far!), to catch up with more of my friends (I’m so glad I caught up with who I did, it really made the holiday :)). A number of drinks later, it was time to head to the Spleen to setup shop in waiting for the coming evening.
I won’t go into too much detail, bar that I drank a lot, a _hell_ of a lot, and that it was a freaking great night, meeting new faces, old friends, chatting to random people and finding out many of them had moved over from Perth themselves, somehow making myself up to a really classy bar and quaffing a really nice German banana beer, returning, the group heading off to Gaylord’s for dinner (Haha Gaylord), making a mess, returning to the spleen, getting a man-pash (And the look on the random girl’s face was golden!), getting random people up to dance, myself dancing like a crazy spaz, leaving, following others to a random nightclub thingy, entering, leaving, something something I think, back to my host’s place for 6am tacos which were really really freaking tasty. Then it was crash time.
Woke up later, went out and bought my host a carton of Stone’s ginger beer for his generosity of putting me up, especially considering we’d never talked online, never met, didn’t really know each other. Honestly, he was a really fucking great guy, I’m damn stoked I got to surf his couch. Cracked a couple, and then I headed out for the last time, feeling a bit toasted. Into town, caught up with another friend, more drinks, another friend joined us, off to another bar, a really awesome little downstairs place, art along all the walls, decked out with lots of couches, awesome music, just another reason for me to love Melbourne.
Then it was time for me to dash and catch up with one last friend, who showed me to a most amazingly awesome little hidden away bar (I can see myself returning there in future visits :)), then off to a little restaurant where she was meeting friends, where we waited in the bar area for a bit, then went down to the eating area. Then, it was time for me to take my leave, and make my way back to the airport.
Uneventful trip to the airport, uneventful wait (Two beers and a sandwich), uneventful flight. Back home I got, my lift was waiting, and then back to the house I was returned. And thus, back home I am.
I dunno. The unease of being home is definitely improving. But… there’s still a large part of me that hasn’t returned. It’s either fallen in love with travelling, or it’s fallen in love with Melbourne.
By the gods, were there some amazingly beautiful females over there. As corny as it sounds, sometimes when I see/meet someone who really makes me melt, I picture myself falling onto a bed with my arms and legs straight out, and then rolling around with the blankets forming a cocoon around me. Bizarre, but me. And that emotion was touched many a time. Oh how much it cheered my heart to have a brief chat, to catch their eye, to make them smile from afar. Ahh, I think I’m a terrible romantic at heart nowadays, as there’s so many who I’d love to wine & dine, instead of jump & dump. I want to get to know many more people, and I felt so comfortable doing so over there :)
It’s funny really. I’ve had a couple of silly little reasons to be tied to Melbourne over the years, really silly really little reasons. The first was the shirt. A horrible aqua colour with MELBOURNE written across it in pink letters. When I went on a camping trip for school one year, I accidentally only packed that one, and had the royal shit pulled out of me for it, which sucked and upset the heck out of me. Then, years later, in informal footy tipping at school, one day it was Freo vs Melbourne, and my form teacher was a staunch Freo supporter, so to stir her up, I vocally went for Melbourne, the worst team at that time. And of course, they won.
I dunno. Sometimes I read into the minute details too much. But, it does add to the value of my life, so I don’t think I really worry that much.
I want to visit the other capitals now, Sydney, Adelaide, Canberra, Darwin, possibly Brisbane again. After that, jump over to Tasmania for some camping action, then stretch over to New Zealand for a few weeks to learn the beauty that it holds, and then who knows, from there, I might gain the bravery to leave the country, travel to other English speaking lands, and then face the areas where I can’t understand anyone and they can’t understand me. Oh, if only my damn Finnish citizenship would hurry the heck up!
All in all, this just continues to make me so glad about the breakup, so grateful that my life goes the way that it does, and that I’m starting to form who I want to be. It’s still a very long path, I still have a number of large issues to get over (The major one funnily enough causing itself to not be put up), but this brief trip has helped me immensely. Even though I lost a grip on the happiness for a day or so afterwards, I’ve gotten back on top of it now. It was a brief worry, and I’ll have to ponder it more, but the strengthening has been amazing.
Now. I intend to get out and socialise even more. Staying at home whilst the ex is still present does me no good whatsoever (It’s a clean breakup, we can stay friends, but that doesn’t stop it being hellishly uncomfortable with her here, and her having her “friends” coming into what will become my house). Getting out and talking to people, that does me a world of good. New sights, a different situation, it’s funny, but it’s so comforting.
Heh, and after seeing some of the brilliant layouts of houses, I’m somewhat keen to save up, then rip out the bathroom in 6~12 months time and start again, completely changing the layout and fitting more in. Can’t get over how sad the house seemed compared to where I’d stayed, and some of the other places I’d seen. And to me, that really says something.
I want to explore Perth more. I want to find what little interesting bits it has. That’ll fill the wait for heading back to Melbourne. And there, I can be reunited with part of my heart :)
I raise my now empty glass in toast to my first visit to that city, and I toast it for the many future visits I intend to do.
Ave Melbourne, to future dalliances :)