Cars and Lechery

This post was principally written on 3/15/13, but I've been slowly editing it...
I just arrived in Adelaide. I decided mid-week I was going, and the decision was mainly due to every place in Melbourne being completely full. I say mainly because there are other reasons, such as a friend playing in a show and a desire to see more of Australia so that in the event that I run out of money and have to go home prematurely I've been outside of just Melbourne. The reason Melbourne is completely full is because of the Formula 1 Racing being in town. Apparently, it's one of the biggest weekends for the hostels/hotels. As an opponent of racing "sports" as a general rule, believe me when I say I was none to pleased to find out this information. The direct quote I consistently used was "it's just cars driving! Who gives a shit?! If you want to see cars driving you can go to the highway any time you want!" I'm not gonna retract that statement, but I will say that I did go to the free day for F1 and I did enjoy the shit out of it.  It was a lot more than just cars and the watching of their driving therein (does that make sense? Pretend it did). While we did watch them for a while, there was also a stationary car that you could race a friend which I won, free samples of shampoo (I'm poor, that gets me excited. Oh and I got both man and woman shampoos; don't judge, still poor), and an inflated jump bag that was 10 meters off the ground. I was particularly cavalier about the height from the ground, but it was an entirely different story when I got to the top. In my head I knew it was perfectly safe, but goddamn if my body did not want to jump. It took everything I had to jump and it was exhilarating, but apparently I let out a yelp as I leapt. Not like a braveheart yell or a manly scream. Nope. Just a scared, involuntary yelp. After I'd jumped I had that giddy feeling again, kinda like the one I had at the beach in LA. I'm not saying that I wouldn't have jumped if the same situation had been back home, but it was here and it was exactly the kind of situation that I came here to do. I watched a video for bungie-jumping the other day, and I think I'm gonna try it. Knowing that feeling of pushing myself do something my body absolutely refuses to do was pretty unique for me. I want it again. Before coming here, I wanted to sky-dive. I might still, but I also may leave it for a different time. Sky-diving is everywhere; I can do that back home if push comes to shove. Lastly, I keep seeing the city from different angles. The view from that area of town particularly great. Melbourne has an absolutely stunning skyline.

I had a bizarre experience at the hostel these past few days. I'm not particularly keen on sharing it, but as long as I'm pushing my boundaries here, I figure I should just tell the tale. I was put into a 14 bed room that was unbearably warm at night, and oh just for kicks, 12 of those beds were filled with beautiful women who stripped down to their underwear at night. How great, right? Yeah, no. Not the best by a longshot. First of all, my period synced with theirs in 2 days (seriously, I've had that one locked and loaded for the better part of a week...), but more importantly, nothing makes you feel like a gross old man than 12 women no older than 22. Oh, and check it out, none of them speak English natively, so I can't even settle for a charming weirdo. Nope, I just get to be a weirdo, a weirdo who is staring at girls in their underwear in bed (no sheets either, of course, because remember it's like 100 degrees) BECAUSE THERE'S LITERALLY NOWHERE ELSE TO LOOK. And let's not forget that they are in groups that speak the same language, Swedish and French I think, so I'm pretty sure all they were doing the whole time was recognizing how big a creep I am and judging me openly. I'm not saying I want a situation where it's just me and only dudes, but christ, help me out, would ya?! Here's the worst part: I'm not even the creepiest dude in the hostel! There were old creepy old dudes in my last room that were way worse than me, so by comparison I looked like a normal dude trying to mind my own business. Which is precisely what I was doing. But since Jimmy, the crooning sexagenarian Colombian Scientologist, isn't directly nearby, I'm the oldest person in the room. (Jimmy, btw, also recommended that I take supplements to give life that little extra zip!) Fucking christ I probably am just that creepy. Fuck. Don't judge me.

There's more going on, but that'll be in another post.

*Editor's note: I realize I've used the word "creepy" a lot in this post. Turns out the thesaurus isn't that great when talking about creeps.