punk

The long awaited daft Punk gig was nothing short of EPIC. I’ll try to break it down for ya’:

1. We drove out to Homebush (great idea!). Traffic wasnt too foul so we got there about 1315. Parked car, short stroll to the ONLY entrance where we proceeded to do fuck all for the next 2.5 hours apart from stand still in a huge crowd under awful conditions. Some nitwit had sent a bulk email to everyone who bought their tix online. Email went along the lines of “if you dont get there early you will be watching the Punk from the stadium, so get there early punk”. I guess myself and every other sod who rocked up before 1700 were pretty keen on that dancefloor action (mind you, Daft Punk were on at 2145). There was at least 10,000 of us (prob more like 14K but some reports say as many as 24K) stuck in this ugly crowd scence: no water, no shade, no public announcements, no queue barriers, no St John’s, no end in sight. We did have in abundance: humidity approaching 90%, girls fainting, people pushing, people booing, people farting, bottle throwing and dangerous levels of frustration. It took every gram of self control for me not to ark up and barge thru the crowd to hurl abuse at whoever was responsible for the gross misconduct and most outrageous breach of OH+S in party history that we were subjected to. The organisers should def post a public apology and explainantion for what happened. Only ONE fucking entry point??? Big Day Out is a juggernaut in comparison with this Never Ever Again one-off and I’ve never had to endure such disgusting conditions. People could have died! There could have been a stampede. Fuck knows I wanted to! (Might have something to do with the 3 Red Bulls I sculled in the hour prior to the line-up but my yogic breathing technique placated the guarana rage to a manageable degree, but only just). I got separated from Fee in the various crowd surges that occurred. This was also annoying. But as we no doubt would have made the joint decision to fuck the gig, sell our tix for $500 each and drive home to smoke on my balcony had we stayed together in that mob, it probably worked out for the best that we got separated. Small joy!

2. Once inside, it took a while to chill the fuck out after that degrading ordeal. A ciggie and some water with a sit down sorted that out after a bit. Then we decide to get some food. Another fortifying gesture…in theory. Every other punk in Sydney had the same idea. Same FUCKN QUEUES! AGH!!! Ok, no biggie. We already survived the mutha of all crowds so this should be a piece of cake. But then the rain came down. Just like that line from that Infusion/Outfission (sorry lads!) track, it dropped out of the heavy sky and added another dampener (cough cough) to the gig. In retrospect it was actually quite refreshing and our auric bodies no doubt needed the cleanse after that psychic rape earlier. But at the time it just seemed like the day couldnt get any worse, especially since the rain did not look like clearing. Added to this was another example of the slowest moving queue in human history; we were lined up for 45 mins for a burger and chips. Funnily enough, as luck would have it, just as I get to the counter and order my food, I open my wallet to retrieve some cash and the fuckin WIND picks up, swirls around us with mischievious gusto, rifles thru my wallet and snatches $50 from me! It is promptly swept UNDER the fuckn food wagon where I have been standing for almost an hour and despite my efforts to kneel down in the mud and wriggle under the cart, it just always seems to be that little bit too far away from my reach. GRRRR! I spin to to Fee and loudly exclaim “Fuck this, after we eat we GO!” LOL, I do tend to get emotional about these things! We take a seat under cover, devour probably the best fuckn chicken burger I’ve ever had, and reassess. Apart from $50 and a few kilos lost from dehydration, we are in good shape. Fee needs bandaids, and we both need water, so the plan is hatched and we decide to stay…at least for a lil while longer…

3. Soon enough the phone starts making noise and its the cavalry, here much later then expected and in much happier spirits then us early birds. Looking and feeling very chipper they sweep us along in a tide of good vibes to go sit up the very top of the stadium to avoid the rain. Blazed up and for the first time today I was actually laxin. Feelin good after a temporary bout of vertigo, we head en masse to to the dancefloor. Ha! Should mention here that the “limited” dancefloor tickets were referring to the grope pit up the front of the main stage. So, it really would not have been a big deal had we turned up later as I had NO intention of getting in that pit anyhow! That email def presented a different story to what unfolded. I will post it here if I can be bothered at a later date. We grab a few beers on the way down and I’m in front of Fee. Next thing I hear is bang and bounce and I turn around and there she is, mid-text, on her ass on the metal steps with a beer in the other hand! OUCH! Fee insisted that her injuries were purely ego based, so we kept on. That would have been another Get The Fuck Outta Here moment, but we forged on, tuff ladies of the floor that we are 😉

After that , the party got considerably better. The sun came out toward the end of Muscles set, the defining moment of his career so far, the crowd went wild. The sun stayed out till almost 2100 (being the longest day of the year, a solstice in fact) when the moon dropped in, almost full, and hovered above us till the end.

I could have a whinge about the DJs, the sound and the vision. But I won’t. Presets and Cut Copy were lots of fun and very familiar. The toilet situation got better as the nite wore on, as did the bar wait. So no complaints there.

Daft Punk were mad. Their lites and production were something else. It felt like they really were robots talking to us! Some said that they played a close version of the Alive CD, and maybe that is true. They still captured my imagination, hips and head as I bopped about like a lil kidder.

And yes, they did end with One More Time. It was perfect!

see below for excerpt from the group email:

1. GET THERE EARLY

The gates fling open for NEVEREVERLAND in Sydney at 2pm.

The first 24,000 people through the door will be given a wristband that allows access onto the field in front of the stage and the stands. After that, punters will be directed into the stands. If you do not have a wristband you will not be admitted to the field at any time.

BULL SHIT

B.L.A.G

Hot dog. The summer season is upon us here in down town Sydney. I am happy, hungover n broke and it aint even NYE yet. Excellent form. Did the twist with my body n mind with Rocket Science tonite in preparation for Daft Punk tomorrow. I like to be limber for these events. In true w.rek style, I meant to blog about the last time I saw the The Science back in June. But, as fate may have it, I’ve only just checked my drafts now. And as much as I want to describe the sensory overload that accompanies each of their sets, words again escape me. For another day.

grown up

This is big day for me. Actually, it has been a big week for achievements, but today was especially important. I went for, and passed first time, the dreaded Driver Qualification Test. This is the fourth and final step in the NSW driving licence program which qualifies me with a full licence. And for the trifle sum of $142 I got me a gold one for 5 years. The green P plates are gone! I am now ok to use mouth wash or take medication which has some alcohol content if I plan to drive, I can hire a car and of course I am legally allowed to drive at 110km/hour. Important stuff!

This week also saw me officially complete the course I had been doing for the last 3 months. The satisfaction level was tangible. I am already planning my next educational experiment, but will wait till the new year to get under way. Thinking of creative writing, a language class and some ghetto booty dance classes to keep it real.

As the end of 07 draws near I look back and smile. With a little bit of motivation and regular bouts of positive thought and support from strong friendships I have managed to achieve most of the goals I set for myself this year, along with a few others I wasnt expecting. I celebrated these milestones by promptly investing in a swag of good wine which I plan to share.

LOL I sound all grown up!

home coming

Moved in to the new home. Was the normal pain in the ass to pack up and ship out but well worth it as I sit here over looking the tree lined street from my fabulous new bedroom. I havent moved house in the last 6 years but prior to that I was a regular gypsy so it was nothing too stressful, just heavy. I dont remember accumulating all that extra furniture, kitchen ware, clothing, candles and plants though, and to be honest I could probably chuck a lot of it out. But I might leave that for another day, I am exhausted.

My delightful ex-neighbours sent me off with a barrage of insults hurled from the safety of their second storey flat. I was expecting some kind of childish behaviour from them so it didnt really come as a suprise, they are, after all, just a sad angry couple who are jealous of others less sad and angry then they. I smiled sincerely (I am thrilled to be leaving them behind!), blew a kiss, took a bow and continued packing my car.

I’m guessing they dont yet know about the new born baby who has arrived to live directly next door 😉

jackpot

The lap of the gods has produced a fine new home for Peggy and I. We will soon be residents of a little suburb called Darlington which shall no doubt become the centre of our universe.

FJ will join us in the new venture as too will Ange, a close friend from work.

I feel really lucky to have landed this place. As usual, the inspection drew a large crowd and fierce competition. The real estate agent tried to bully us into tendering higher rent by saying that other applicants had offered considerably more. I stood my ground and said forget it. 10 minutes later they were ringing to ask us to put our deposit down. LOL!

The move is happening in about 2 weeks.

Peggy hasnt figured out what all the boxes are for yet.

post script

I am not ded. I am VERY lucky. I do not have serious injuries bar trauma to elbow, ribs, hips, neck, shoulders and a cut on my eyebrow. I lost a favourite tshirt and hoodie when they cut me open at the scene. I then lost all my clothes when they stripped me down in ER. I got to ride in an ambo and inhale funky green gas before morphine sorted me out properly. I stopped traffic for a while, but i cannot fly.

I went over the handle bars down a steep hill at 35km/hr when i slammed on the brakes of my newish bike. Rear wheel kicked up, throwing me into the path of incoming traffic at peak hour on Pyrmont Bridge Road. I was reacting to a car whose movements i couldnt predict: i had the choice of either maintaining my path and maybe colliding with this vehicle, veering right to avoid the obstacle and taking a chance with the cars behind me, or braking. I didnt add gravity or momentum into the equation, math was never my strong point. Lord help me Words!

Hit the ground. Started screaming. Didnt lose consciousness, I think. Managed to get the guy who rendered immediate assistance (Mark) to also call my boss. Right elbow not good, adrenalin pumping thru me so hard i can only breathe short and fast to keep up with my heart. I’m flattened on the road with my bike on top of me; apparently the bike wanted a softer landing then mine. Right about now i remember i have my helmut and gloves on. Ambos scraped me off the road after getting my neck in a brace: the senior officer (Liz) was funny and lovely and calm, suggested i take my guardian angel for a drink.

In ER they discovered i wasnt wearing knickers under my shorts that day. One less thing for them to cut off in a hurry. Weird thought though, lying there with 6 doctors checking my vitals for spinal damage, i’m wondering if i caught them off guard with my commando routine. Then, they roll me over to check for ribs poking thru skin and open my butt cheeks to see if i’m bleeding internally. Kinda wish i was passed out completley for that bit. Next comes the xrays, right there on the table. She was a cold bitch, yanking and prodding my limbs like they werent attached. I could feel it through the fog, she didnt care, a starched white robot straight out of the Cuckoos nest. Sweet irish accent on hand to cover me up with the gown and a blanket, i’m shaking with shock and drugs hard wired in my vein.

They call it trauma. The media call it “Ride 2 Work Day“. I’m calling it “The Day I came Closest to Dying…so far”. Maybe I am overreacting. Maybe you read this and think, what a wimp. But the look on the faces of my friends who came to ER that day brings tears my eyes as i write this. I am only one woman, yet i am not alone. Had my number come up i would have left without question or regret. And so i sit re-reading this, contemplating what it means now to be here, with these friends, in this life i have built for myself and i wonder why.

slore no more?

I got hit on by an extremely cute lad last nite. Had to turn him down despite his obvious interest in me and his endearing persistence. He was 22.

This may come as a bit of shock to my dear readers, but I havent often rejected offers of casual sex from handsome gents in the past (probably because I am usually the upfront one ;). My checkered relationship history has meant that I’ve spent as much time being single as I have been someone’s loyal girlfriend. Its an even 50/50 split. In saying so, the opportunities for exciting encounters with random strangers during the “on” season have been ample. I am, after all, the adventurous type.

My recent decision to stay at the party with my friends rather then disappear into the nite was almost a first. I am puzzled by this change of heart, enough so to blog about it. And potentially muddy my rep in coming clean. But the question perplexes me more then my dirty laundry. Why didnt I run with the wolves? He was totally hot this guy last nite, and bold which I like. It may have been the age gap, but that hasnt really bothered me in the past…could it be the onset of premature menopause???

The likely truth is that I am more interested in a long term partnership then one nite stands these days.

Maybe I have this subconscious theory that if I refrain from casual carnal delights then Mr Long Term No Kids (maybe)  will roll into my life sooner. Part of me wants to believe this fairy tale.

The more realistic part of me knows that life is often unfair and that I may be single for some time yet despite my self inflicted oath of celibacy. There are a lot of hot guys in the world. It would seem wasteful to ignore chemistry and passion between 2 free agents…

Damn, I didnt get his number!

———————————————————————-

Today my facebook horoscope apps had this to say:

“This is a great time to throw yourself passionately at the next attractive opportunity.”

and

“Heartwise, you can expect to live an encounter with someone young and brilliant who will fascinate you.”

Well, I guess we can safely say that my timing was well and truly OFF this weekend LOL!

time is nigh

Just a quick note to advise that the battle with my unsavoury neighbours hath cometh to an end. An opportunity to move house has presented itself (finally) and I am grabbing it with both hands. Whilst I havent yet found the new house, I do have the advantage of 2 great flatmates with whom to move. Our options are looking bright for a bigger, better home with bath and garden with sensible rent. The inspections begin in earnest tomorrow.

The sense of relief is overwhelming.

But, I’m not overjoyed to leave my home of almost 6 years. I will miss the grand high ceilings with ornate cornices, the cosy lounge in winter, the blessed sun room, balmy afternoons on the porch. I will miss the long corridor which I used to run up and down when I first moved in after living in poky apartments for too long. I will miss the cool interior when the temps rise in summer. I will miss the huge arched windows in my bedroom, and the view of the old gum trees across the road. I will miss the Kokoda Track which used to run down the side of the house. I will miss living in this house, it has been my island, my mountain, my dancefloor, my home.

The era is over. New life begins.

*** Had an inspection of current house by real estate about a week after I wrote this blog. Turns out that they want to gut and renovate the whole place soon so I’d have to move anyhow. Funny how that worked out. By deciding to move of my own accord I feel empowered. The neighbours will also need to move. But, as the renovations will begin downstairs in my flat first, they will be subjected to the delighful sound of builders for a few weeks before they get the boot. I don’t wish to sound smug, but suck shit you fckn morons***

Pass me the Allen key

Alas today I got a touch of the single street blues.

Went to IKEA to fix the perpetual problem I have with clothes management. Surrounded by couples n families. The stuff I wanted to buy was really heavy and I had a lot of trouble getting it in to my trolley and then into my car. Had to enlist the help of random guys who were like “Dont u have any one to help you with this?”. Uh uh. Sooo embarassing. Their wives/girlfriends all gave me this “How pathetic” look. It was the Bridget Jones moment I have been dreading. That miserable song “All By Myself” was even playing over the inhouse PA system. If I wasnt choking back hot tears of humilation I probably would have found the scenario deliciously amusing.

Needless to say I will get over it by morning, and I now have 2 big sturdy chests of drawers THAT I ASSEMBLED MYSELF!

Something to say for being good with instructions 🙂

Does Freedom have a more single friendly vibe? I’d be interested to find out. Shall keep u posted…

the curse of the red shoes

My poor old knees have been getting a work out this past week.

I took a flamboyant spill on the dancefloor at Spectrum on Saturday nite. This was ok as I was in a very jolly mood, I had my red shoes on and I was dancing like Mick Jagger (or trying to). Bounced up from the wet floor, took a curtsey and started boppin around again. Didnt really remember the incident till much later the next day when I was rumaging around for something in the mountain of clothes that permanently inhabits my room when the pain hit. Closer inspection revealed evidence of a heavy tumble on both knees, bruised and puffy with fluid building steadily in that bit below the patella. No skirts for me this week!

And so, wearing my sharp black pants I make my merry way to work on Monday. Push bike has been deemed unroadworthy by the swathy gents at Cheeky Transport (another story) so I’m on the tram for a few weeks. Strolling across City West Link at the pedestrian crossing, I momentarily misplace gravity and take yet another belly flop, this time in the middle of the road. Bag and contents fly everywhere, mobile phone skates across the intersection and I’m left laughing so hard I can hardly drag my shredded pants to safety on the other side. I need to point out here that I was NOT jay walking at the time but observing correct pedestrian protocol. I was, however, wearing those red shoes again…

It is moments like these that remind me why walking rek is such a fitting moniker. It seems that depsite my ardent efforts to be industrious and sensible, those mischievous imps that follow me around are just as up for a laugh as I am. Too bad for my knees though, they are on ice for a week. The smart black pants were sadly another casualty, but the red shoes are in fine form, waiting for round three…