Mornings are for sleeping. If I’m up before noon it’s a miracle.
If it rains, I usually try to go to Bikram Yoga. The studio is a pain to get to by bus, so it takes the better part of an afternoon. If it’s sunny, I go to the beach. And if it’s somewhere in between, I head to a coffee shop. I’ve actually found a delightful little place called Sparrow in Crows Nest, and I’ve already logged a lot of hours and skinny (skim milk) mochas at the place..
My evenings usually involve damaging my liver. I’m not sure if it’s the heat, but it seems much easier and desirable to drink over here.
Last weekend I went out for dinner with a fellow Canadian from Vancouver, Michelle, who is over here on a working holiday as well, and then went to a pub called Stoned Crow with my flatmate Ryan before ending up at home with everyone and drinking until all hours of the morning.
It was also my roommate Andrew’s birthday last weekend, so on Saturday I ended up in the city at a place called Dr. Pong (it had a ping pong table), which was insufferably hot with no air conditioning. I’m sorry everyone, I know it’s ridiculously cold back home, but the heat can be just as uncomfortable!
I spent a quiet night in on New Year’s and watched the fireworks on TV. I know, I know, one of the most spectacular shows in the world and I chose not to go see it. But those who know me well know I hate the crowds. And I really hate waking up New Year’s day broke and hungover. So it was me, pizza, a glass of wine, and a Sex and the City marathon.