It's The Good Girls Who Update Their Blogs; The Bad Girls Never Have The Time

Isn't it always the way? When you're actually doing things that are worth posting about, you're too busy doing them to post about it!

That's my excuse for why I haven't been updating much lately. Because I'm ashamed of the truth - I'm completely addicted to Neopets. But don't tell anyone, okay?

Well, work has been flat out - but I'll get to that in another post (I'm sure you can't wait) - however, it's my weekend's little foray into the land of Wake the Dead that I wanted to tell you about...

I dyed my hair bright red for the occasion. Of all my hair colours, the intense red really is my favourite - it makes me feel like a different person. If only it wasn't so difficult to maintain! I use every colour booster there is, and still it fades.

I'm not putting on weight...my black and red lace dress just shrank a bit whilst it was hanging in the wardrobe, that's all.

On the train, the battery in my MP3 player ran out before I'd even reached Wyong - a third of the way there. Well, of course it did. It couldn't have just run out at a convenient time, like when I'm at home with more batteries, now could it?

It was great to be back at Taylors...comfy chairs, clean toilets, cheap drinks (what else could a late-twentysomething want from a venue?). Anyone who's been to Club 77, where the ladies' looks like downtown Fallujah and a Toohey's beer costs $6.50, will understand why Taylors is so attractive.

I've never been that familiar with music played in Goth clubs, but I've never been so out of touch before. Usually I'll at least recognise a few of the songs played, but on Saturday whole hours went past when I didn't know any. I should do something about this, but I'm not altogether sure where to start.

On the train on the way home, a dishevilled looking lady in the carriage said she was very tired, and asked us to be quiet. So we had a sedate conversation in very soft voices for a few minutes, when she stood up and started sqawking "I'm trying to sleep! I can't believe you're being so selfish!" and then she went on about how she'd been sick, and had an operation... and of course by now she'd woken the whole carriage up. Luckily everyone else was on our side, since 1. The woman was clearly nuts (she was also muttering "Shut Up!" whenever the driver made an announcement); 2. This was a train, not a hospital; 3. As I've said, our conversation was incredibly quiet, (and I asked her this) 4. If she's so sick, what the hell was she doing on a train at 5am on Sunday morning?
Eventually, she did move to another carriage. It's only looking back now I realise she must have been homeless; she was wearing layers and layers of clothing, including a heavy moth eaten coat, despite the 30 degree weather, and had a strange smell, like smoke from a rubbish fire. Homeless people often ride around on trains all night - as long as you don't leave a station, you don't need a ticket - and the Sydney-Newcastle line gives them several hours rest, in theory. In practice, I don't think I'll be getting the train that late by myself anymore. Even as I returned home, some drunk guy on the train yelled at me for being a "snob" because I turned away from him - only doing so because the train was approaching the station platform and I wanted to be facing it! (I'm so sick of these guys. You come across them at all hours of the day and night, usually at bus tops, train stations, and on buses and trains. They're always aged between 30-45 and they're always drunk. They try to engage young women in conversation, and when you don't respond, they become insulting and abusive. But I'll elaborate further on this in another post).

As soon as I got home and had a shower, I did one of my all time favourite things on Earth...crawled into bed and snuggled up with Xander. Cornershop was wrong; everyone doesn't need a bosom for a pillow, just a big, warm, cuddly cat! But when I woke up, I still felt exhausted and achey. I don't think I'll be going to a Sydney club again for a long time. I'm just too old and too tired for it these days.

Anyway, I've been feeling really shallow lately...it seems all I do these days is work, watch TV and drink. So this weekend is a designated Culture Weekend; I'm going to visit the art gallery (the Queer as Folk art exhibit sounds particularly interesting), try to get along to see Munich, and who knows, maybe I'll give Anna Karenina another try...