January 2, 2009 § Leave a comment
It’s that time of year again. Time to reflect on the last 365 days and wonder, what really happened?
Did I really discard the life I knew, mourned briefly the sale of the house and car and stuff, scorned routine and familiarity in the face, and said ‘see ya!’ to Sydney? I guess so, since for the first time in my life, I am spending New Year’s day in a different continent. I am typing away in the dark, somewhere in the south of France, wondering what the hell I should do next.
I’m here for maybe a month, with no plans, having a travel break. Wasn’t really part of the grand scheme to ditch the glamorous lifestyle of a wandering vagabond. I mean, who doesn’t LOVE living out of a backpack, not entirely sure what kind of sleeping surprise awaits me every few days, packing and unpacking a zillion times, and wile away countless hours at various train stations? In a sadomasochist kind of way, I do. But now, I’m bumming around a couchsurfer’s place, and have been spending the last few days reacquainting myself with domesticity.
So folks, that is what I have been up to. Domestic chores. Though I hope it won’t reduce this blog to utter dullness, when even my dear friends, who are obliged, really, to read all this brilliant jibber jabber, will think ‘what rubbish!’ and stop being interested, and more importantly, envious, of my exciting adventures altogether.
Not to worry, the adventures shall continue. In fact the present challenge is trying to find a way to make money come to me. A job? Job shmob. I’m currently in the process of harnessing a burst of creative genius, which some say is completely possible while one wallows in nothingness. Ok, so I’ve been drawing some pretty pictures. I’m hoping people with extremely good taste (though that itself is a contradiction because a lot of people don’t) will part with enormous sums of cash for a slice of my very special artwork. If not, at the very least, it’s something to do.
Oh yeah, Happy New Year. This place celebrates the new year in an entirely confusing way compared to good old Sydney. As in, no fireworks, no drunken hooligans, no street beeping, no kissing random strangers. Rather civilized affair indeed. Therefore didn’t really get up to anything mad, unless you count sitting around a table fighting over drinking glasses and discussing Spongebob Squarepants with a Kiwi as ‘mad’. What? Of course I was sober.