MARDI GRAS!!!

It’s a different vibe in Sydney during Mardi Gras than in New Orleans or at Carnivale or other cool places with massive festivals and topless women. In Sydney, you’re much more likely to run into men wearing nothing but a g-string. Because in Sydney Mardi Gras is known as a homosexual festival, with a huge parade on Oxford Street and general insanity ensuing throughout the city. But everyone dresses really crazy, with special fondness for feather boas, regardless of sexual orientation, and has a blast. It’s just a huge party! My personal favorite sight was the Surf Lifesaving float, with a bunch of dancing men in speedos and surfie caps (I have one of those caps!). Or possibly the group of drag queens dressed as different incarnations of Kylie Minogue.

But we left the parade and followed a bunch of people to the other side of the city. They chose an outrageously expensive restaurant, and me and my flatmate Adam, Yuki from across the hall and Anne-Marie from the next building decided to find a McDonald's. We were feeling the urge to be as stereotypically American as possible. And it was a mission to find one! We walked all the way back to where we were! But it was yummy. And really cheap, which was nice.

We eventually met up with my other flatmates Doriana and Phil (and a few other people), by way of a pub by the Maccas, at a club where we danced until after the last bus left the station. We left the club at 4 a.m.! After hobbling back to QVB, we realized that the last bus left at 3:20 a.m. on Saturday nights (why there wasn’t special accommodation for the special event I have no clue). The city was still almost as crowded at 4 a.m. as it was at midnight, although we got away from Oxford Street to avoid the bulk of the crowds. So we called two cabs (there were eight of us) to split back to campus. Only one showed, and then the others thought we could get a free ride, so I hopped in a cab with Adam, Yuki and Anne-Marie and got back to the apartment at about 5 a.m. Turns out, the others ended up waiting at QVD for the 7 a.m. bus (honestly, I’d have rather waited for the bus and saved the money). But the cab was about A$40, which isn’t too bad split among 4 people.

I should also mention that me and my roomies FOUND A$280 Friday night. We were walking from the bar at the Rocks (which is the oldest part of Sydney and has some wicked cool pubs) to the bus stop at QVB and found a garter belt stuffed with money. We didn’t count it that night, but in the morning we were really excited. For the record, we did attempt to find the owner, but there was literally no one around. So we dubbed it the “hooker money” and bought drinks with it all night for Mardi Gras, and spent it on the cab ride home. We still have a fair bit of it left, so we’ll most likely either split it or save it for next weekend. Or Wednesday night. Whatever.

I know that I’ve been mostly writing about parties and pubs and clubs and drinking and having fun (which I am, by the way) but it’s really not as terrible as I make it seem. I do have uni stuff, I’m freaking out about one of my classes (it’s a magazine feature writing class and I am a terrible reporter and the professor is making us have our sources sign a permission slip and they had to explain the inverted pyramid to these kids on the first day of class and it just leaves me with a small rock in the pit of my stomach etc. etc.). And my internship starts next week. And it’s been raining for the past two days, and it’s actually kind of cold here today. But it is mostly wonderful. But I am not always partying it up. Just most of the time.