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?
11 comments:
Sounds like wicked fun!
I've only ever been to Dreamworld once. Despite living in 'vegas for far too long.
And I could do with some 20+ degrtee weather and blue blue skies at the moment. I need to sort that out ... get me to 'vegas, stay on my mum's farm.
It was good old fashioned fun. I normally absolutely adore winter, but this couple of days in the sun has made me realise that it feels like this year has been particularly miserable seemingly forever. I miss walking around in just a t-shirt and jeans.
Yeah, I must admit to occasionally harbouring fatasies of moving back to bris. Don't know if I ever actually would though.
I am fucking OBSESSED with the Giant Drop. Every time I go to Dreamworld I go on it about eight times.
Last year they opened it up when the park closed and we got to be the only two people on the ride as the sun set over the Gold Coast.
It was beautiful.
And terrifying.
Hmm Toby, I think Brisbane (and queensland in general for that matter) is a lovely place to visit, but I'm pretty certain I wouldn't want to live there.
Ms Fits, HOW ON EARTH DID YOU WRANGLE SUCH A FUCKING AWESOME EVENING'S ENTERTAINMENT?
who are 'they'?
Sounds fun! The only time I've been in Brisbane it rained for the whole three days I was there, but even then it was warm rain, which was an experience (as was SOOB, the youth arts festival I was attending). The smelly English backbacker in my dorm was also an experience, albeit a less attractive one, and the constant rain just seemed to make him smell even worse - like a wet sheepdog or something...
Kiki - "they" are proverbial.
Richard i don't think I'd have been happy with warm rain... I hate rain. AT least, I hate rain when i'm not inside in front of the fire with my book. THen i love rain, the sound of it at least. If i have to do anything though, WHOAH i HATE rain.
you mean like jesus talk??
proverbs and shit
the good samaritan etc??
Um... yeh. Shit like that.
Um. You have to, like, go to a Big Brother eviction and attend the pre-eviction 'cocktail' party.
NOT THAT ANYONE WOULD DO THAT.
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