So I'm still getting used to the idea of having to wake up early on a Monday morning after a weekend of partying, but I'll try not to let the bitterness creep into the weekend recap.
After starting drinks after work at Senate Bar ("Why yes, I'd simply LOVE to pay twice as much as usual for my beer, thanks!"), I headed off to meet up with another crew for Mike's 21st birthday, because who doesn't love a whole dinner that basically just reminds you that you're old as hell and sliding quickly towards the grave.
With all the great cuisines and food from Asia in this city, it was only natural that we all headed to a trashy Mexican restaurant. It was like junior year of college all over again, really. But a good time, I swear. What's most important is that the birthday boy quickly ended up dancing around with a silly over-sized 'Mexican' hat (seriously, do they even wear those or do we just use that to make fun of them?) while drunk off of $14 margaritas.
Beach during the day, followed by a house party near Cronulla (the scene of the race riots last month, in case it sounded familiar, which I'm sure it didn't) for Jon Jon's friend's birthday. The party hosts had made the genius move of hiring a digital jukebox for the party and the theme was the 80's, so of course I immediately ran over and selected "Love Is A Battlefield", among other cheesy selections -- all of which someone promptly skipped over once they started playing. Why if I didn't know better, I'd think people thought I had bad taste in music! Hmmm.
Was meant to be pure recovery, until that last minute phone call telling me to get my ass over to a BBQ for Mike's actual birthday. Fortunately I was feeling practical, so after a few beers and the opportunity to call the other American at the party "fat and dumb", I headed home for a quiet night of dinner with the flatmate and the men's final of the Australian Open.
Work. Meetings. Yay. Fuck off.