Glowing Review

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Fifty something . . I should know better! And no . . I'm not wearing gloves but I am wearing a mask

The last three days have been wonderful and the lad has left a huge hole in my heart now that he's on board his Etihad flight home.

I think 2 weeks must be the benchmark to feel relaxed with someone you've never met and 12,000 miles from the familiar. He was fine with me but took his time getting to know the younglings . . stranger in a strange land and all that.

We had a wonderful day in town on Friday. He was happy, chatty, smiling, the boy I've come to know and love. We spent two hours spinning around Centrepoint Tower (revolving restaurant atop the clouds and still the highest building in Sydney) eating from the all-you-can-eat buffet, drinking iced water, beer and Sav Blanc and watching the view of Sydney below - God I love my city.

Wooloomooloo and Garden Island Navy Base
Pronounced 'woola mooloo'

Darling Harbour and the Maritime Museum

The day ended with a walk around town, painful due to sore and blistered feet for the Paduan. Some souvenir shopping and browsing the CBD including the Queen Victoria Building and Strand Arcade. Both restored to their Victorian grandeur


. . . but definitely for the ladies who wear size 8 . . . and like their bling) before catching yep . . . another ferry (he's mad about boats and the harbour) . . back to Pyrmont and home. We were tired so just watched a little TV, ate more Pizza and an early night was called for as paintball called early on Saturday morning.

The day started early although he was dressed primed and ready to roll while Adam was complaining about the earliness of the hour and two mates berating him through his bedroom window for still being asleep. Apparently there was some urgency to arrive by 7:30am for discounted 'something'. They high-tailed out to Paintball with 10 mates and came back battered and bruised, hot and sweaty at about 1pm after pummelling each other with small balls full of greasy red paint.

Erm no . .not D . . .he's shy! Paoli is not.

I wasn't inclined to trounce out at 7am to catch them on camera. Their wounds however, stand testament to the viciousness of the game. D now sports a round deep red welt on the back of his calf and half a dozen more on his elbows and back. What his mother will think of a son I send back with raw peeling feet, elbows and calves and multiple gunshot wounds, I shudder to think but he assures me, he's had the time of his life. Frankly my idea of a good time is a massage and a pedicure but then . .I'm a goil! Fortunately, he's straight into uni on his return so won't see his family until next weekend so maybe the wounds will have healed!

The afternoon was slow drinking by the boys, swimming, barbecuing, Guitar Hero, sharing war stories and the place has been kitted out with black lights, fluorescents and a fog machine . .As evening encroached, the partygoers arrived, donned their white gear and fluoro amulets, cranked up the fog machine, broke out some beats, played with lasers, and partied hard. Clare Adam and I got suitably hammered but poor possum crashed about 1:30am leaving the stayers who packed it in after a quick heat-up of some Samosas and the big crash at 3am.

Bright boardies are 'in' this year for more reasons than one . . .

The girls glowed . . .

Yep, that's me and D doing what we do best -
acting the goat with fluorescent face paint . . he is the 'moon'

The Irish I have decided drink hard and fast, Aussies on the other hand have longevity, we take it slower but last longer. Although the creation of a new potion by Adam (shot of Sambuca, shot of Yaegermeister, shot of vodka and a can of Red Bull poured into a pint glass) is enough to floor an elephant! Tastes like cough mixture, with fizz, truly revolting and has been christened "The Duracell"and is strictly only for the bold and the brave.

I dropped him off at the airport this morning, checked in, had lunch, gave him a hug and sent him on his way. He took off (I hope) at 3pm, although we saw an Etihad plane fly over at about 3:45, for the 24 hour flight home then straight into lectures on Monday morning. It's been a lovely time having him here. The two of us have been through a lot over the past two years. He can be a little moody but as with many things, he was warming to everyone towards the end of his stay and understood what a 'servo' and 'lebo' was. He began to feel a little less far from home, a little less white and freckled, a little less a fish out of water, comfortable in no small part to Adam's doing (apparently he's the funniest guy D has ever met . . I concur!) He really enjoyed himself "The best two weeks of my life . . " were words uttered more than once. So endeth travels with my Paduan (which if I was a purist should be Padwan suck that and see Jack McMad!)

So, this afternoon, the big cleanup . . . hang up the hammock and fight Clare for a snoozoid! Needless to say I lost

Recognise the book?

Next week we begin the big health kick. Clean and sober . . salads and exercise . . size 12 by November . . . party's over dudes!

I might add that uploading this pissant of a post took me almost four hours thanks to my suck hole internet service. I swear, (frequently and loudly) it's just a matter of time before I throw a fist through the screen . . after all this time of posting, now there's a 'pop up' warning that I've never had before. Bastard internet fucketty fuck fuck fuck! I'm so ANGRY right now. . .GAH GAH and double GAH! And it's not the connection it's Blogger . . slow as slow can be. I can pootle about on the web without problems but uploading 41k pics seems to be more difficult that solving the conflict between Israel and the Palestinians. The good news, Clarebear has a job and so with all three of us now working it's just a matter of weeks before we can get decent naked high speed DSL and upload until we go blind! Yes, we are serious internet nerds. Safe travels Paduan/Padwan.

Normal services resume tomorrow! Oooh me 'ed!