A small, wild child runs past me screaming in a language I cannot comprehend... Yes, I am in Australia and waiting for my final connecting flight to meet my friends on the Gold Coast... The flight has been delayed, woe is me, lucky for you I can update the blog...
Sometime yesterday, my yesterday, which is actually in the future, or something like that, I landed in Dubai and was met by a morose airport attendant who explained that everything was everywhere, most philosophical. I have probably drunk about twenty three pints of coffee and had about the same number of minutes sleep so please forgive the fragmented nature of, oh, I broke my seat... No one noticed. What, where am I?
A rather excitable woman met me in Sidney domestic flights, talked at me a lot and then left, obviously she had no sense of smell and could not appreciate my rather giant footish oder, despite getting changed in the on board toilets and listening to someone do a massive poo in the cubical next to me.
What I have earned today:
A day is flexible: I have no idea what is going on anymore, I'm tired wired and probably fired.
After a persistent delay in my flight from Sydney to Coolangatta, two hours in total, and then to be sat beside an older woman that kept shouting:
"What's that noise... IT shouldn't be making that noise." referring to the whine of the engine, I was very glad when Sarah came bounding through the airport, threw me into a ute and we burbled off into the quickly ageing day.
Skelly, (AKA Sarah) and, Bridge (AKA massive alien head or Dave), live in an avenue past which rushes cars that boom, "Bogans", I'll explain the term in a moment, who scream and whoop. Emily, the other female presence in this household, informed me that there is a large lizard that likes to sun itself in the fork between the shade of two trees. When Emily approaches, the lizard scarpers in terror, Emily is oddly offended by this.
It is morning again, I guess my third, therefore the title. When in transit, I get utterly confused as to the day or even my location, as my previous ramblings may suggest.
When I arrived, it was raining, I now sit outside on the 'Bogan sofa' in the glorious sun... Yes mum, I'm wearing sun cream... No, I've not brushed my teeth yet.
From what I can understand, a 'Bogan' is a cross between a chav, trailer trash and a hick. They seem happy with their 'utes' and 45 kids, so good for them.
Prices here are high. An example, using the universal comparison of a pint is impossible as they don't drink pints here, instead they drink stunted, comically sized bottle of beers which make the holder akin to a giant. One of these, in a bar, can set you back about 8 ozzy dollars, about a fiver in the UK. Yes, I am worried.... But, at least the sun is shining.
Emily and I went out for dinner last night. Being the callus individuals that we are, we went to the Italian restaurant at which Bridge and Skells work so we might laugh at them, klick our fingers and then ignore them when they tried to take our order. I had a dead chicken, Emily had a lovely night.
Upon leaving the restaurant, the four of us decided to get a drink at a bar. The bouncer asked if I might have some photo ID, I didn't. Bridge turned to me and, with utter sincerity said:
"Don't you have your drivers licence?"
It would appear that in our seven year friendship, Bridger has failed to notice that I am blind. It seems terribly creul to point out his lack of observational skills. Okay, okay, I promise, I'll tell him tomorrow... Maybe the next day....
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