wOt I diD On my wEkeNd. by tAmmY

Whoah. What a weekend!
I said...
WHAT.A.WEEK.END.

I tell you what, for all that everybody bags Brisvegas, I really do like it. I like it alot. Mind you, I don't like it NEARLY as much as I love and adore Melbourne, but it's certainly a lovely place to visit for a couple of days of 22 degrees with clear blue skies and sunshine. Ahhh it was lovely.

So, the following may or may not have happened during my weekend.

I got a whole three seats of an emergency exit row to myself.
I got cross with Qantas because I hadn't eaten dinner because I was expecting it on the plane. No, I got pretzels.
I was picked up at the airport by a very hyperactive Sal who swore she hadn't had much to drink.
We got drunk.
I started a bar tab, and reminded Sal to remind me to make sure I got my card before we left.
We got drunker.
Two very random guys tried to pick me up. You know what they say about guys in Brisbane!?!
We realised how much we like getting drunk together and having a good ole gossip.
We left the Story Bridge Hotel for some other random place in the city.
I realised I'd left my credit card behind the previous bar.
We got drunker.
We went home and talked and talked and talked.
We got up and went shopping (at a FABULOUS Aussie designer shop, I'm in love. I could literally have spent thousands of dollars in this store. as it is i limited myself to a skirt, a top and a belt, but this store ALONE is reason to go to Brisbane)
We slept in front of the tv for the rest of the afternoon.
Dinner at the Regatta (where the food is very impressive, despite it's size), followed by more watching dvds on a mattress on the floor in front of the tv. Is there anything more fun when you're tired and (still) hungover.
We acted like very little children and ran crazily around Dreamworld all day, saw these amazing creatures and went on this 5 times. I don't think I'll ever get over the pure thrill of anticipation while you're waiting for that sickening 3 second drop from a million stories high, and the gut-wrenching split-second of fear and uncertainty as to whether it is actually going to stop, or whether you will end up a mere hole in the ground with some shoes sticking out (actually, I had to take my shoes off, for fear they might fall off and hit me in the face on the way down).

Adrenaline is so exhausting. Anyway, the trip back to the airport was much quicker than we had planned for, and I was in time for the earlier plane (Qantas fly every hour from Brisbane to Melbourne), but due to stupid rules and regulations on my ticket (it wasn't even a sale fare), I had to hang around the airport for an hour and a half. That gave me plenty of time to spend in the multitude of shops at Brisbane airport (read: the newsagency).

It was bizarre actually. I often find myself to be inspired at the oddest moments by seemingly random things. I spent about an hour in the airport newsagency (having paid $5 for my "giant" coffee, I didn't have much to do to kill time), just looking around. I must have already read about six hundred book blurbs, when I stumbled across some cards and notebooks with quotes on them. Now, I'm not normally one to be inspired by "motivational" quotes. However, one in particular stood out to me, so much so that I bought the notebook for which it was the cover.

"We do not remember days, we remember moments"

I'm not quite sure why this struck such a chord with me, but I sat on the plane and wrote about 6 pages of... well, just stuff. I finally sat down and thought about what it is I want to do in the next few years, and forced myself to make some rather scary realisations about my life in the last 6 years. "They" say that writing things down is the first step towards making them happen. I wonder though, how many steps in this programme?