(no subject)
So ms Hills drinks were quite fabulous....I arrived somewhat late to the affair after staying at my desk a little too long trying to decipher some ancient greek, considering the fact that i hadn't started studying at all since yesterday mid morning, i thought it was a good reason for being late. Also other aspects contributed to my tardiness (to paraphrase "Clueless") was the reliably un reliable public transport of Sydney. Anyhow i arrived to the Arthouse hotel and made my way to the middle floor of the said bar. It was quite swanky. Last time i was there it was a friend's birthday, but that had been held in the uppermost levels of the arthouse. Apart from that, i havent been at the arthouse forever and a day.
Rachel always has an incredible group of people around her, and i have to expect that at every function i attend organised by the said lady. This was no exception, there was a nice mix of people i knew and people i had never seen before (or if had, didnt actually know them). Monica was there as well which was great as i hadn't properly caught up with her since she arrived from her overseas stint.
Having made a conscious choice not to drink too much i only stayed the length of time it took to drink cocktail i slowly drank. By the time i did leave a few people were left and the ever glamourous ms Hills was happily drunk. I cant wait how things pan out for her in the states.
I then decided to walk to railway square to then catch a bus up king street. This exercise turned out to be a very interesting sociological/anthropological observation. I mean i have always known how crap George street is at any given moment, but this level crap-ness is exacerbated when the sun goes down and the lights blare onto the streets. It was absolutely horrid! It was overfilled with miss placed and directed testosterone mixed with the bare mid-driffs that are only provided by young scank-whores ladies that have very interesting ideas of what looks 'hot' and what will attract the opposite sex. I dont think i'd have a problem with it if 'da boys' that inhabit this precinct of the city at 12am on saturday night weren't so disruptive and destructive all in the name of attempting to gain attention from the opposite sex. Sure the gay boys also be known to do this....but at least they do it with style. At the risk of sounding like an elitist prick, it was just totally ugly, not just physically, but socially, it was the dregs coming out for some fun. "I felt impotent and out of control..." and just plain dirty.
Turn now to King street, as i eagerly search for some food at this strange our of the evening. as I step off the bus there was an immediate change in the air of the street. There wasn't as many people on the street, and while there may have been the same concentration of vomit on the side of the street, it was free of that testosterone filled tension air, and more carefree to a certain extent. As my search for food took me to the other end of King st, it made me realise how different these two street are and yet they aren't that far from each other. I'm kind of glad that i live in this area where the level of buffonary is never as high as it is on George st (though im not saying it doesnt exist). Whilst i would have thought twice about actually talking to people on George st for fear of death, i was quite at ease discussing the nature of me wearing an orange scarf with a drunken dutch guy at the kebab shop on enmore st, along with a drunken american exchange student. At no point did i feel like i was going to get my head chopped off - or anything of that effect. I was just projecting my fears to those on George st, or were my fears actually founded on concrete things? Then again George st is the ugliest main street in the world (among developed cities).