The Burleigh Strip
The mood of the moment is brought on by the worst part of my job as a tutor: telling friends why they got bad marks. It's the bit that makes me feel like I owe people more than I probably do, and that I let them down. Here's a more positive post than usual, just to turn things around a bit.
There's a pool hall on Adelaide St that needs more patronage. (windwalkr, what's it called?) We tripped into there on Friday night with ilister and I pretended I could play. The night out shone particularly in the last moments of the closure of the Riverside Expressway, which had completely drained the CBD of all private vehicles. The word of the night was 'accessibility'. We also accessed wedges, nachos, the Pig'n'Whistle restaurant, some beer and a curious drink made of guarana, vodka and cordial.
I visited Robina yesterday, with a crew of kids and parents and jelashke from her church. While the traffic on the Indy weekend wasn't bad, it wasn't moving at the several hundred kilometres per hour that some lucky vehicles are allowed to reach. The small township of Robina is pretty pleasant, mainly a huge mall of shopping, lunching, outlet and cinema glory; we'd booked into one of the few all-you-can-eat Pizza hut buffet's beforehand, so it was probably a mistake to have three dinners on Friday night.
The beaches at Burleigh Heads rock all over Surfers in a bunch of ways. It lacks the happening tourist front, sure, but it's a beautiful, quiet stretch of park and bright sands, and I don't really miss the human pollution or the unnavigable crowds.
We played french cricket, I got buried in the sand, I ran and hid from the water. When I finally nerved myself to cannonball the freezing surf, I went into shock and needed adrenalin to the rib. (I didn't get it - the moment passed.) I've never felt so warm as I did at the moment my muscles unlocked and I stood up out of the water, never mind the frosterly wind blowing from due Frost-East.
I remember why I love the beach: the feelings you take away are even better than the feelings of being there.
I've quit WoW, in a manner of speaking. This means that I'm no longer considering it something to do, not that I've (yet) stopped paying Blizzard or made the peon cry. I like the game and I'm probably going to go back to it at some point, but it's easier not to look forward to it eagerly than it is to manage my time around it when I've got urgent things I should be doing. Having said that, I never got far enough in the endgame to know if something like this is real, so I'm probably not setting that much aside. Sorry to leave you alone in it, jelashke :(
The Heroes bandwagon is a much less time-consuming vehicle than the Blizzard machine.
Someone also pointed me to a Zim webcomic that trails off after only a handful of exquisite pages. Actually, it was misatokitty, who we visited last weekend. I don't think I posted about it, but it was cool to catch up. We must do it again some time not too far away :)
There's a pool hall on Adelaide St that needs more patronage. (windwalkr, what's it called?) We tripped into there on Friday night with ilister and I pretended I could play. The night out shone particularly in the last moments of the closure of the Riverside Expressway, which had completely drained the CBD of all private vehicles. The word of the night was 'accessibility'. We also accessed wedges, nachos, the Pig'n'Whistle restaurant, some beer and a curious drink made of guarana, vodka and cordial.
I visited Robina yesterday, with a crew of kids and parents and jelashke from her church. While the traffic on the Indy weekend wasn't bad, it wasn't moving at the several hundred kilometres per hour that some lucky vehicles are allowed to reach. The small township of Robina is pretty pleasant, mainly a huge mall of shopping, lunching, outlet and cinema glory; we'd booked into one of the few all-you-can-eat Pizza hut buffet's beforehand, so it was probably a mistake to have three dinners on Friday night.
The beaches at Burleigh Heads rock all over Surfers in a bunch of ways. It lacks the happening tourist front, sure, but it's a beautiful, quiet stretch of park and bright sands, and I don't really miss the human pollution or the unnavigable crowds.
We played french cricket, I got buried in the sand, I ran and hid from the water. When I finally nerved myself to cannonball the freezing surf, I went into shock and needed adrenalin to the rib. (I didn't get it - the moment passed.) I've never felt so warm as I did at the moment my muscles unlocked and I stood up out of the water, never mind the frosterly wind blowing from due Frost-East.
I remember why I love the beach: the feelings you take away are even better than the feelings of being there.
I've quit WoW, in a manner of speaking. This means that I'm no longer considering it something to do, not that I've (yet) stopped paying Blizzard or made the peon cry. I like the game and I'm probably going to go back to it at some point, but it's easier not to look forward to it eagerly than it is to manage my time around it when I've got urgent things I should be doing. Having said that, I never got far enough in the endgame to know if something like this is real, so I'm probably not setting that much aside. Sorry to leave you alone in it, jelashke :(
The Heroes bandwagon is a much less time-consuming vehicle than the Blizzard machine.
Someone also pointed me to a Zim webcomic that trails off after only a handful of exquisite pages. Actually, it was misatokitty, who we visited last weekend. I don't think I posted about it, but it was cool to catch up. We must do it again some time not too far away :)