bliumchik: THIS IS NOT SPARTA. I AM LOST. (scenic detour!)
[personal profile] bliumchik
Mrgh, still lagging behind the update train I am. I've a little collection of links from the past week or so that I'll post after this even though they are no longer new so some of you may have seen them.

I'm home again after a week of doooing stuuuuffff, the last few days of which involved me only returning to my house to sleep, and that only half the time.

Seriously. On Tuesday I went to [livejournal.com profile] heythatscool's house, where me and [livejournal.com profile] mishka_jayne and [livejournal.com profile] jk_rockin had tea and anzac biscuits and snark. On Wednesday I went out with Alice to investigate a tattoo shop I've heard good things about and do reconnaisance. In a super mega combo fail that began with me saying "I know where it is! I saw it out the window once when I caught the wrong bus - I think it was a 303? Or a 307?" and, via much cluelessness and several instances of phone-google fail, ended with us walking from Redfern to Hyde Park via Crown street, following which I had to stay on my feet for my escrima class. Ow.

(It wasn't all bad - we walked through a section of Surry Hills I haven't checked out before, with lots of vintage stores and coolness. Alice bought a broken clockwork robot toy and we tried to fix it on a bench in Hyde Park. We also saw the plot of land near Central station where they want to build a Central Park for Sydney, although so far they have mostly built piles of rubble.)

Thursday I went to Alex's to play D'n'D (being a foulmouthed gnomish warlord is great, I can shout GET UP AND STOP BLEEDING LIKE A SISSY as a healing spell) and ended up sleeping over since the game ran longer than my buses. Friday morning I went home for a tutoring shift, was implored to return after it for the ubiquitous house party but didn't because I got home to discover that AMANDA PALMER was doing a ninja gig on the Opera House steps! :D

"Dress to confuse!" she tweeted. (Dress to perplex, suggested Nicky, which would rhyme better.) However, at this point I was considering heading to Alex's party after the gig, which at that time of night would mean crashing there again, which would mean I was unlikely to go home again till Sunday, what with my plans to attend Reclaim the Lanes, a street festival in Newtown, and then Die Maschine, a goth club near Central. So I threw on the bottom half of my clubbing outfit, layered some weird tops I've been given by my hilarious relatives, and put everything I'd need for Saturday in my bag. Then I decided my outfit was insufficiently perplexing and I should put on some facepaint. That was... interesting. I couldn't get the white base to layer properly, it was all splotchy, and I realised around number 13 that writing the Fibbonnacci sequence on my face was all well and good but what looked right in the mirror would be backwards in real life.

Then I decided that would just be more confusing and kept on going anyway. Also my first attempt at drawing a heart failed hilariously, and I couldn't take off the black without taking off the white, and attempts to fill the whit eback in resulted in more splotch, s I left a blank spot.

Let me tell you, strangers on public transport enjoyed this a lot.

I was a bit late what with the time it took to accidentally a circus and a late bus, but I eventually joined the rest of the internet at the edge of a large crowd, crescent-shaped around Amanda on the steps of the Opera House. She played songs on her ukelele in between Q&A, including her first attempt at Delilah on the uke, and a cover of Umbrella when it started raining. Then we moved to the car space under the steps, because it was heading into a pretty epic storm, and she continued in the same vein, with a couple of new songs, old songs and covers. Neutral Milk Hotel's Two- Headed Boy has been stuck in my head ever since. Also, somebody gave her an inflated zebra! At the end we had a bookswap - I left some scifi, Mclaren's Press Send and Egan's Incandescence (technological revenge fantasy and hard SF about sentient insects inventing physics respectively), picked up a giant epic fantasy by someone called Patrick Rothfuss, which is turning out to be pretty good!

I ended up going home instead of to the party, because it was late and raining and I was tired. Then I spent Saturday afternoon first in Newtown "reclaiming the streets" (although it was pretty lame, we only held up traffic for two blocks and then turned into a random alley where there was a shitty band and some Twister. Eh.) and then at David's house, painting weird shit on a giant canvas with a semi-dressed Melissa. She did the awesome brain, I did the weird alien turnip and Lady Love (I don't have access to a close-up right now so you can't see the creepy eye or the little person in her claw or the um beak thing, but yes the other arm is a submachine gun). Happy Valentine's day :P

And then on Saturday NIGHT I went to a goth club with a bunch of amateur circus performers and drank some vodka and danced like a maniac, and was sort of taught how to do "dirty dancing" (which still makes me lol and ??, like, on a conceptual basis :P) and failed a tiny bit less at hitting on tiny hot contortionists than I usually do (by which I mean, still pretty faily, but I suppose these things take time. Just you wait, by the time I am thirty I will totally be a "smooth operator," right?) Also Frank the bouncer realigned my spine, which was brilliant (he practically had a queue of girls who wanted slightly s&m-tinged massages, it was hilarious) but all that good work was undone by the terrible mattress I slept on that night. We all trooped back to the house of Tom, one of the Circus-Soc people who lives in a convenient location, and spread out two mattresses on the living room floor and slept in a big cuddlepile. I never sleep all that well at other peoples' houses, and being half on one mattress and half on the other didn't help, and neither did Fail, Tom's adorable kitten, doing her level best to sleep on my face for half an hour or so around five in the morning.

This morning the four of us who were conscious and leaving around the same time went to a cafe and had the most amazing breakfast, although we had to wait a bit since it was the only one open in a ten-block radius and thus was flagging under weight of the morning-after crowd. Then I got home and collapsed a little and got harangued by my mother for a while, and now I should probably get some sleep as I have to get up at 7:30 am tomorrow (every day this week, in fact) to feed my brother. Thank you, vagaries of my dad's employment :/

Oh no, wait, first I have to post my sex is not the enemy fest story, damn. You may or may not also get those links :P

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