Happy Australian Father’s Day, Daveo!

Another recent milestone and honorary holiday was the first official day of Spring. Not that it was even that cold to begin with, but things are certainly warming up. Today is sunny, breezy, and 70 degrees F. Air conditioning notwithstanding, people instead swing open their doors and windows, bringing the outdoors in. I felt the restorative powers of fresh air as I ate my breakfast in our breezy, bright kitchen this morning among some of my housemates. Jess was wearing shorts. I’m starting to understand what Colin meant when he informed me, “Just wait til it’s warmer outside. The city will come alive.”

Australians seem to take birthdays very seriously. Even though the notorious 21st birthday does not bear the same significance in this country as it does back home, Australians still do it big. On Friday night, I took the train to Bondi to attend Yochi’s Mad-Men-themed 21st birthday party. The crowd was overall a classy bunch; the ladies strutted in their structured, jewel-toned 1960’s dresses and teased hair while the gentlemen rocked suits and skinny ties. I arrived just in time for speeches, which were executed with the impromptu charisma and wittiness of those I can only assume had roasted their friends before. A quick glance brought me to terms with my stately surroundings: tables of food lined the walls of the garage-gone-dancefloor, which seamlessly and ingeniously blended into the outdoor pool area. Up a few steps brought me into the kitchen, which, in eye-catching modernity, also blended into the outdoor pool area by way of open glass doors. Yochi’s vaulted-ceiling-ed room was to be found at the top end of a spiraling staircase above the garage.

I felt only slightly guilty for swiping a few cheese pastries and using my fingers to fish out tasty beef brisket from its broth on my way out the door…but only slightly. I stayed the night in Bondi and got breakfast with Josh and Henrietta at a cafe by the ocean the next day. Henrietta has since invited me to her pink-themed (the color, not the questionably talented singer, as she put it) 21st birthday party this coming weekend.

Preya, Shrey, and I enjoyed the most blissful evening last night. They indulged me in my burning desire to try the food at a Newtown “African eatery” called Kilimanjaro. After nearly inhaling meat incomparably tender and astutely seasoned, we couldn’t deny ourselves creamy, dreamy gelato cones of standard and exotic flavors alike. (Ever had panacotta gelato? My new favorite.)

In the brief time I allowed myself to come home and get ready for dancing in the Rocks, I karaoke’d Mariah Carey’s (Jackon 5’s) “I’ll Be There” and Queen’s “Somebody to Love” with my housemates. Went dancing at a 3-story bar/club combo in the Rocks where they played Dance Mix USA vol. 4 hit “This Is How We Do It”.

Rebecca and I may go see my actor-friend Tim in his play tonight. I also may join a gym. After a reassessment of my time management skills (or lack thereof), I decided I need to be busier so I don’t have so much free time. Free time I inevitably and with much regret end up wasting. I’ve been wanting to try boxing, anyways, and Preya has promised to try the gym classes with me.

So that’s the update. And as for pictures, well, I simply haven’t taken any. Here – these ones are from Facebook.