The Noise, Noise, Noise, Noise
Wherein our narrator experiences Sydney going
nuts for Mardi Gras.
There are, I believe, 3 or 4 parties within
earshot of my balcony. I have already heard any number of really trashy songs -
ABBA, The Archies, etc. - blasted from the party over somewhere near Devonshire
Street.
I wonder if I will get any
sleep tonight.
I can't complain,
because it is Mardi Gras, the big party of the year in a city that does seem to
love parties.
I'm torn. I don't have
any fabulous fag friends to drag me out and show me around. Last evening I went
out with Tim - who definitely is quite fabulous, but at 39, considers his
partying years behind him. Me, I've spaced my partying years out, across the
Playa, various weirder conferences, and my occasional
sprees.
And, with my natural shyness
(yes this shocks you) it's not as though I'm going to go out on my own and seek
some party full of people I don't know. Or nightclub. Or
whatever.
And besides, I'm tired. I
had some fun last night (brief, but fun). And perhaps my horns have grown a bit
as a result. But I'm tired, and I want a good night's
sleep.
And I do hope I get some
tonight.
God. I sound like an old
man!
Posted: Fri - March 5, 2004 at 10:37 PM