Finally, finally, finally I was forced to face...

Gee, Brain. What are we going to do tonight?
The same thing we do every night, Pinky. Try to take over the world... of graffiti. Then try to convince Danielle to do something other than schoolwork or watching movies!

That's right, everyone. I actually went out and had fun this weekend instead of being my usual hermit self! Huzzah! I worked on Friday morning, then left all giddy with my first pay in hand. So of course I went to Queen St. to spend half of it, ha. It was 'Talk Like a Pirate Day' and there were a few people dressed up, including this one lady who had THE coolest swashbuckler outfit I've ever seen. It looked like it could've been stolen from Kiera Knightly's 'Pirates of the Caribbean' wardrobe. I was really tempted to ask her if I could take a photo, but I got lily-livered. Then I walked around taking pictures of the cool graffiti and sticker art in the city. I also had at least eight lizards of varying sizes cross my path, including this fella who let me go camera happy on him.
Every time I saw an iguana or lizard I said, "OH MY GOD! LOOK AT IT! WHOA!" to nobody in particular, causing passersby to either question my sanity or know immediately I'm not from around here. Speaking of crazy visitors, looky what I found:
And here I thought he was down in Georgia! (For those of you that don't get it, that's a nerdy music joke, not a diss at the South)

Later that night I was ready to settle down for a Cameron Crowe marathon, but Alexa called and told me to get ready for a trip to the Gold Coast. Her super rich cousin was having his birthday party in the penthouse of the tallest building on Surfers Paradise over the course of four days and originally Alexa wanted to go Saturday (when I had work). She found out that Saturday he was going to have 70 people there and Friday was a calmer total of 20, so they decided to change nights last minute. The majority of the car ride up was spent by Alexa's recently engaged (at 18!) friend saying, "Ooh, I want to have my wedding reception there!" to practically every three or four star restaurant we passed. Then we reached the Huge Fancypants Hotel I Can't Remember the Name of.
I apologize for the bad quality, but my flash wasn't working for some annoying reason. Everyone at the party was pretty drunk when we got there, so we broke off from the main group and sat in one of the seven (thats how big it was!) bedrooms admiring the view and sipping some rum & orange juice in honour of pirates. Get it? The orange juice is to prevent scurvy! Anyhoo, the view was astounding and slightly reminds me of Atlantic City.We joined the rest of the party again only to find them talking about cartoons and a guy with dreadlocks screaming, "LETS GO GET ICE CREAAAAAAAM!" So, we opted to leave and go to a club that Constantly Planning Her Wedding Girl was raving about. They stamp your arm with a huge red 'SIN' when you enter (the place was called 'Sin City,' kind of a tacky name). How very Nathaniel Hawthorne. We didn't stay there for long, but it was fun enough. The ride back home was spent mostly by me singing along to Kings of Leon songs on the radio and obsessing about how they're not only one of the greatest contemporary bands but also the best looking family in music (which they totally are, even back a few years ago when they were in their '70s hair and too much flannel phase). Yes, I realize how pathetic it is that my conversations tend to revert to the topic of cute boys, bands, or cute boys in bands.

Saturday was my first time working movie night, which was awesome. The movie was 'East of Eden,' one of my favourites and it was hosted by a fabulous tranny who was just a bit tipsy. Oh boy, was that interesting. I kept getting called 'Raquel, Darling' and had to deal with a lot of gossip. I was supposed to meet up with friends later, but some bad directions and an idiot cabbie later, I found out I was only a five minute walk away. This really got me angry, because I should've known it was going to happen, I consistently get terrible taxi drivers. Then I get there and find my friends left. ARG! But fortunately I knew she lived nearby and remembered how to get there. I also had a cute guy come up to me and ask to help settle a bet with his friend for $10 that he couldn't get a random pretty girl to kiss him on the cheek. And yes, I gladly helped, teehee. I found Angie's house and we watched a DVD of Adam and the Ants videos (her favourite), exchanged concert stories, and all that fun stuff. She invited me to go to the beach with her posse next weekend, so it looks like I'll actually have something to write about then too, yay!

I finally got a steady social life over here, aren't you all proud?

Hot Glam! (I Love You So)

Oh wow, I just realized one of my favourite blogs, Popserious put me on their blogroll! Right at the top too, because it's alphabetical order, but that means I'm above Best Week Ever and Boing Boing! Whoa! Thanks guys, you're awesome! Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Airplane!, !!!, Oh the Places You’ll Go!, and a whole bunch more exclamation points! I'll stop now. I think that last sentence made my spell check have a nervous breakdown.

Also, my Mom pointed out to me that I accidentally had last week's entry as August 13th, when it was really the 20th. So that's fixed now, thanks to the observational powers of Editor Mom. See, all those years of me asking her to proofread my essays payed off.

I make a point of checking a few Philly news sites every day just because I like to keep up on what's going on back home. The last thing I saw on Australian news regarding PA was about the Phoenixville Blob Festival. But it was this piece of (where else but) New Jersey news that made me laugh. Oh you Joize kids and your shenanigans, how I miss you. When I saw that headline, I half expected it to be the group of guys I lived next to last year. They were in the martial arts club and would all stand up then bow at the same time after finishing meals in the dining hall. That was a bit weird, but the Ninjas were nice guys and I never had to worry about my room getting robbed.

Unfortunately my neighbors this year aren't so respectful. Well, just the one. As I said before, all my flatmates are wonderful, but it's the guy who lives below me that's in for a fight. Usually people have to complain because the person above them is blasting music and it's going through the ceiling. I have the reverse problem. To try and handle it politely, I went on the school's chat room because he's constantly on it. I figured it was an easy way to let him know he should turn his music down, but then I didn't think over the fact I was talking to a college chat room full of 18-year-old boys...

Dani: Pace... It’s past midnight. Also, this is like the 10th time today you've played 99 Luft balloons. Could you please turn it down?
Void: stick a luft balloon in his pooper. then inflate it.
Dani: No... I just want him to know his music is way too loud and way too crappy.
Morven: put your vagina on the floor and enjoy it.
Void: pace, can you hear the vagina on your ceiling?
Pace: yeah, its hot. NANANANAAAA 99 LUFTBALLOONSSSSSS
Dani: Listen closer and you'll realize it's my fist.
Pace: hahaha, haha my window aint even open. must be loud.
Dani: Yes, yes it is. That's my point. I have to sleep.
Pace: 99 luftballons cued for 7:40 am
Dani: I'll be up then anyway. HA. And you're just lucky I don't have speakers myself.
Pace: *points speakers upwards*

This went back and forth for a few more minutes, with them getting progressively more lewd and I finally left because got sick of trying to reason with such idiocy. Fortunately, the RA came and made Pace turn off his music shortly after that. They must've heard it themselves because I didn't even call them. But they apparently continued the stupid 'vagina on the floor' thing in the chat long after I left. My one computer savvy flatmate saw that they were being jerks and used a secret trick to kick them off the server for two hours. Thanks man!

EDIT: Pace and my flatmate Gus are good friends that go way back, which means Gus is trusted enough to have a copy of Pace's key. He's also pretty sure of the password to Pace's computer. Did I mention Gus lives right across from me and has to get up really early, so he hates when Pace blasts music too? Next time it happens or Pace is rude to me, Gus and I are going into his room, deleting all the songs he blares repeatedly, and downloading every single Yanni, Goo Goo Dolls, and Jonas Brothers song in their place.

Despite that one annoyance, I had a great weekend. I went to a Glam Rock themed party (I was supposed to be Debbie Harry, but it didn't quite work considering I don't have blond hair or look anything like her) and got to hang out with a fun bunch of punk kids in hilarious outfits. The party was in a cute little rented Russian hall that had pictures of Catherine the Great and Leo Tolstoy. It looked like a babushka's house. Even better, it was directly across the street from the AFL (Australian Football League) stadium. The AFL fans sure were taken aback when they saw a bunch of 20-somethings dressed up as Iggy Pop, Debbie Harry, Marc Bolan, Ziggy Stardust, and Suzi Quatro going into a Russian hall. COMMUNISM! After about two hours of dancing to glam, we decided to just play what we normally listen to, and by the end of the night, we were dancing (in the same way they do in this video) to our favourite Eurovision song:
We then decided to go outside and somehow our conversation turned to jingles from several years ago. Iggy (I don't remember half the real names of these people, mostly because they were introduced to me as their character) was saying he remembered one that had a fat kid saying some phone number over and over. Naturally, we had to call the number to see if the fat kid answered. Apparently that number is now the hotline for a radio station and the operator asked Iggy what he wanted to talk about. "Um, life... Love... How my stupid girlfriend just ran off with the fat kid and took the dog with her. Now I only have the cat, who hates me." Either the story sold them or they were desperate for callers at 1:45 am, because we got put on air. We practically died laughing. Nobody has any idea what station we even called.

SECOND EDIT: At first I didn't put any pictures from the party for some reason, but now I've been told I can't describe a party like that and not provide visuals.

Angie should be a magician's assistant! I love Dennis' expression in the background, haha.

Dancing up a storm, a rather silly looking dance storm. This photo gives you the idea of all the crazy Russian paintings and memorabilia on the walls. That's me on the right in the black tutu and silver top that makes me look like a ballet baked potato. As I looked through pictures I realized that almost every single picture (such as this one) I'm in has me holding a beer. It makes me look like a complete alco, but it's actually the same beer I held all night. Because all they had was beer, which I am not a fan of. Too much carbonation and the taste doesn't appeal to me. So the entire night I took about three sips, yet I kept it with me because I didn't want to be rude. I'm the exact same way with soda. I've probably drank one can of Pepsi in my whole life. I realize that nobody would take offense to me disliking their beloved 'beeah,' but I always worry and over-think things like that.

This guy ('Marc Bolan') stayed in Glam Rock mode all night, he's my hero.

I should really know all their names, I'm terrible... I only know the one to the right who looks more like a member of Panic at the Disco is Rhys, because that's a pretty memorable name. Dude in the middle is so a rockabilly version of David Bowie! I have to laugh how he's posing tough with a clenched fist when he's wearing heavy makeup and the other two are flaunting it for the camera.

That's about it for now, nothing else interesting with me other than I'm a huge nerd and have been watching Mystery Science Theater 3000. Oh wow, the Australian news just said that "Jimmy Page from The Who played at the Olympics closing festival last night." It's called fact checkers, good job.