New Year, New Hangovers
Sydney, Australia: I get drunk a lot.
Like the rest of 2015, my last day of the year is a bit of a mixed bag. We decide not to bother with the fireworks, since finding a good spot seems like an early morning thing. Screw that. Instead we have a fairly uneventful day, then get dolled up and go to Bondi beach after dinner to meet up with friends. Of course, we akwardly run into my ex-boyfriend, who we had invited along with us. He never got back to me about hanging out on NYE, but I do to see him on the last day of the year – with another girl. Feeling a bit annoyed, I tell Sharon: “there’s no way I am going to have a fun night.”
Well, we end up in a clubhouse on the beach that has a bar, a large balcony with a view, and a handful of awesome people from Mildura, and some that we have just met. We drink the goon we’ve brought with us and get to know everyone, and as the sun goes down, more people join and things get blurry and I end up in the bathroom for a very long time. While my head’s in the toilet bowl and I’m trying to throw up as quietly as I can, I’m thinking “hey, I tried. I had a good time, but now I must pass out. I don’t care about the countdown and fireworks and socializing anymore. Zzzz.” Of course I am less coherent in my drunken state.
Sharon eventually pulls me out of the bathroom, and we all go to the golf course, from where we can watch the fireworks. I have brought a warm bottle of champagne with me – no one thought to put it on ice – that we all share while Sharon is crying and people are hugging and wishing each other a happy new year.
We go back to the club house and get even drunker and dance around until it‘s way past 2 and we have to jump on a very crowded bus full of drunk Irish people.
Meanwhile, back in Denmark, my mom makes friends with someone whose son is about to do an internship in Sydney for a few months. She messages me not too long after that this guy might send me a message on Facebook, and I get all excited. I’m a bit homesick. Well, Martin and his friend Alex meet me at Cheers on an otherwise normal Wednesday. We have dinner and a few beers, and end up going to another bar on George Street. Then we go to Sidebar. Then we go to ScuBar. So I’m home at 2 in the morning, insanely drunk and wearing a Hawaiian lei, having 3 hours left until I have to get up for work. Needless to say, I’m very hungover and struggling the next day.
January 9th, which is a nice sunny day because this is Australia and the seasons are messed up, my roommate Bernie and I go to the Domain, which is a big open air stage. We sit on the grass for hours, listening to an Icelandic DJ, an Irish group that does party remixes of old classics while wearing gold speedos, and finally, The Flaming Lips show up and play an amazing, trippy show.
Prior to the concert I only really knew about them from their awesome collaboration with Miley Cyrus (yes, I am digging her latest sound), but the show has me hooked. Colors and lights everywhere, and I lose myself in the long instrumentals. Then I go home and play their stuff on Spotify and am disappointed in how music is just so much better live.