You Know It's Hot, Don't Forget What You Got, Looking Back...

Nothing like Lauryn Hill quote to kick off a farewell post.

It is now 4:30pm on Tuesday, April 14. In exactly 16 hours, I will board a Qantas flight bound for NYC.
My feelings are as mixed as the drinks I will be having at my farewell jam in a few hours.

I got back from my 5-week journey on Easter--I like to time my resurrections with those of the Lord. I was taken in by Meg, who recently moved into a new house, complete with three bedrooms and a dungeon.
I kid you not.
Luckily, I wasn't forced to sleep there.

Much of yesterday I was dying to go home, frustrated because of the inability to get someone to drive me to pick up my luggage, especially when one friend had already offered, but then backed out by pretending like it wasn't happening. It really hit home the sense of helplessness I'd felt many times in Sydney, not being able to do the simplest things--like laundry, for instance--without paying excessive amounts, or asking someone I'm not really close to for a favor.

I know that, although the last thing I want is to shack up with my mother and her latin lover, I also can't wait to sleep in my own bed, not wear thongs--oops, i mean flip-flops!--in the shower, and come and go easily.

But today, as I ran errands around the city, I found myself quite nostalgic, and actually sad. The sun is shining, I was actually too warm in my long-sleeved top, and Sydney was beautiful--and I felt like I'd made it my place, in a way. I have friends here and know where to go, and have made memories. I also have six months left on my visa, and there is a part of me that wonders if going home is a bad idea. I just found out my main gay may be leaving NYC in mere weeks, and my sister from another mister is heading to grad school in the fall. Add to this the fact that I've spent 6 months being a total selfish loner, not having to do anything but stay afloat and answer to no one, and you have a blacktress with a deep-seated fear of returning to reality.

I mean, 6 months is nothing in the grand scheme of life. Granted, I missed a few births, engagements, a black president and a global financial crisis--but, you know, the bars will be the same, and the dudes I hate won't have gained the 50 pounds I hoped they would as punishment.

Will folks actually have missed me? I want my reunion to be like that of Christian the lion and his old owners. You know, like this:



Is that too much to ask? I just want to maul you with my LOVE!!

When it comes to Sydneytown, there are some THINGS I WON'T MISS:
-trying to get home after midnight and paying a crapton.
-paying for condiments. Seriously, don't you think it's sort of passive aggressive to sell someone french fries and then charge them 50 cents for a package of ketchup?
-explaining my hair to total strangers.
-hearing the songs 'Save Tonight' and 'Land Down Under' at least once a day. I mean, 'Land Down Under' in Australia?????????

But really, when I think about it, there are so many THINGS I"LL MISS LIKE WHOA:
-Sweet, sweet, Eli Reed. You began as a reader, and you became a soul sister.
-Oh, dear, dear Meg. You have taught me much about the side hustle, and the ability to be a rockstar.


Wedges with sweet chili and sour cream--the most unlikely-yet-heavenly combination in the history of cookery.

-Lemon, lime, and bitters. Best. drink. ever.
-Meeting random strangers on public transportation and then being facebooked by them.
-Telling people I'm a blacktress and not being asked 'where do you wait tables?'
-Suzy Q, who always tried to get me out of the house when I was depressed, and told me I should stay in Sydney. Her optimism is precious.
-Abbreviating every word possible.


-Sushi Train. Delicious, delicious Sushi Train. Above shows where I ate on the regular, including my last lunch in Ausland.

-And, of course, Aussie accents. I'm still holding out for my foreign husband!

Okay, off to dranks with peeps. Next posts will be the tales of my travels--soooooooooo worth the wait!

xoxo,
blacktress!