Tag Archives: Sydney

Happy NYE in Sydney!

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Today I woke up feeling like I had been hit by a truck. I honestly felt so shitty that I thought I might have the flu. So I had to forgo beach day at Manly with Stina and instead spent the entire day in bed trying to rest up so I could actually make it to the ridiculously expensive NYE party we had already purchased tickets for. At a about 2pm I started to come back to life, very slowly. We started hitting the champs at about 4pm, which always tends to perk me up a bit. We had a little pre-party that consisted of our host, Dan, and 6 chicks – only one of which he is sleeping with. I think. One of his coworkers was there w/ a friend of hers. She was already drunk (I hope) and quite entertaining. She was bitching (in a funny way) about how her friend just cancelled a NYE party on her and she had nothing to do. Turns out, that party was still on, she was just disinvited because she hooked up with one of the guys throwing the party the previous weekend and woke up the next morning asking him “what are we??”. That is like “How to freak a dude out 101” girlfriend. Amateur hour.

At around 6pm, Stina and I headed out to The Rocks so we could get a good table at our party for the fireworks. We were, of course, 30 minutes early, so we grabbed a drink and hopped in the queue. There was a bit of line drama with people trying to cut. Shockingly someone else put the douchebags in their place before I had to do it myself. And thank god, because I needed all the energy I could muster so I could make it to fireworks without collapsing. But let the record show, I would have slapped a bitch if need be. We grabbed one of the few coveted tables with a great view of the Opera house and had to guard it with our lives for the next hour and a half until Stina’s friends (same group from Queenstown) arrived an hour late. I am obviously cringing as I say this, because you all know how I feel about punctuality. Needless to say, I was stressed. But since I’m trying to be “go with the flow Rory” I decided to heed T-Swift’s advice and shake it off. While we were guarding our table, this one fat chick kept putting her fucking drinks down, as if she thought the table was now hers. So I basically had to have an ass pushing competition with this bitch for an hour. It wasn’t so much the fact that she put her drink on my table that bugged me as it was that she was offensively ugly and I just don’t really like ugly people around me. It brings down the average of everyone in close proximity. Kind of like a really shitty house on a nice block. And if you were are using someone’s table, wouldnt general etiquette dictate a courtesy ask? We also had a mail-order bride with entitlement issues that rivaled the Kardashians trying to get at our table. She was escorted by a super old white guy with yellow fever and kept taking the smallest sips of champagne and putting her drink on our table. I thought Stina was going to punch the bitch out, but instead she just spit in her drink and we giggled the next time she took a sip. Mean girls ain’t got shit on us.

Our view
Our view
A view worth defending
A view worth defending

The party was open bar until 10:30pm and passed hour’derves which we all took full advantage of. They were actually quite generous with both, and thank god, because at AUD 280 I might have flipped out on someone if I had to wait 30 minutes for a drink. Nothing too crazy or exciting happened. It was actually a pretty mellow party. I didn’t end the night crying, so I have deemed it a success. To give you some background on my expectations – I fucking hate NYE. With a passion. That shit never lives up to the hype and I usually find myself shit faced in a bar, covered in glitter, trying to find my phone and/or friends. I think last year I sat on the couch with Jorgie eating carbs in my pj’s and we barely made it till midnight – and that was prob the best NYE I had in about 5 years. We were home shortly after 2am, after getting drunk Stina some McDonalds. No one lost their shit or puked. Perhaps this is maturity? if so, it’s painfully overrated.

Fireworks over the Opera house!
Fireworks over the Opera house!
I know, it's no Wilson Park, but in a pinch....
I know, it’s no Wilson Park, but in a pinch….
For good measure
For good measure

Thursday, January 1, 2015

Happy New Year everyone! 2015 is going to fucking rock!! Let’s just enjoy this moment when we can tell ourselves how great the next year will be and actually believe it. Because you know in 364 days we’ll be saying “Fuck 2015! 2016 is my year!”. Do you want to know what my 2015 resolution is? To marry rich. Yes, I want to lose weight, find a job I actually like making great money, lose more weight, and try to be more positive. But marrying rich would really kill all those birds with one stone. And you know I’m always one for efficiency.

Today we took the ferry over to Manly Beach. We passed by the Microsoft Mega Yacht on the way there. It is either owned by the Company or some big shot at the Company (or so we were told).

Half of what I will get in the first divorce
Half of what I will get in the first divorce
I have included a pic of it – and yes, that is a fucking helicopter on the back of it. Apparently there are multiple submarines included as well. This can all be yours for the price of $200 million and $20 million a year in upkeep. For the record, when I say marry rich – this is the rich I’m talking about.
View from the ferry
View from the ferry
Just in case a genie in a bottle is reading this, I want to clarify. We seriously considered jumping off the ferry, swimming up to it and pretending like we were drowning. But those rich fuckers on board would probably have just sipped their Champagne and laughed at us as if someone arranged for a show where sharks eat us lowly poor humans purely for their entertainment.

Manly was pretty cool – more laid back than Bondi, which is fucking nuts. Had a bit of a Hermoa Beach vibe, just a bit bigger and more touristy. But today it was pretty crowded, and the jellyfish were out in full force so no swimming for us. All I wanted to do was get shit faced because I was finally feeling a bit better and what the hell else do you do on new years day? So we spent most of the day in bars (shocking, I know). If there is one thing I have learned while in Sydney, it’s that all the hot men are either working the bar or waiting your table. Seriously – hottest waiters I have ever seen in my life. Stina and I actually considered inviting a French bus boy home with us but then thought better of it. We made a quick stop at Opera bar on the way back to bid adieu to Sydney in style. On the way home, Stina wanted to get rid of some of her change. She counted out all the useless two cent coins taking up so much room in her purse, ready to throw them on the floor of the cab. Luckily, Dan and I realized these annoying little coins were actually two DOLLAR coins and stopped her before she chucked about $20. It doesn’t sound so funny now – nothing is as funny when sober. Perhaps the alcoholics are on to something there.

We were in bed by 10pm, as we had to be up at 5am for our flight to the Gold Coast tomorrow. Back to being real backpackers again. The downside is we have no family and friends to take us around and show us the sights. Good news is that showering is optional when backpacking.

Aussie Cousin Day

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

I woke up today feeling like death. I have officially gotten sick. That took less than a month. Stina, who has been sick for a few days, is finally feeling better. But we couldn’t fret about it for two long, because today we were going to see Koala’s and Kangaroos!!! Christina’s cousins picked us up and took us to Chapel Hill (the burbs of Sydney) to the Koala Sanctuary. There were about 20 or so female kangaroos that you could feed, so we spent a while with them. They keep the females separate from the males (must be nice) because apparently the males be cray. And I am not trying to get my ass kicked by a roo. The females were adorable, eating right out of our hands. They have these funny little rabbit teeth that tickle a bit (that’s what she said). Then we went on to the Koala petting portion, so now I have to figure out how to own a Koala because I am fucking in love with them (FYI – they are not bears people, no Koala bear, just Koala). We met an adorable female Koala who’s name I sadly don’t remember so we will just call her Muffin – she very much liked the way I smelled and nuzzled me a bit. After that we saw a sheep shearing demonstration which was quite traumatizing. It consisted of a dude who looked like he was straight out of an Outback Steakhouse commercial giving us more information on sheep shearing than we would ever want to know and then actually shearing one in front of our frightened little eyes. Needless to say, Mr. Sheep was not pleased with Mr. Steakhouse. Oh, and he threw a boomerang too. It’s about as exciting as it sounds. It’s basically frisbee for people with no friends. Not that people who play frisbee have friends…

Stina petting the Roo's!
Stina petting the Roo’s!
Me with my Koala buddy
Me with my Koala buddy
Hello
Hello

Christina’s cousin and his family were lovely – three children but all very well behaved, so I wasn’t too terrified. However they invited a friend of theirs to meet us at the Zoo to surprise Christina – her 6th grade teacher from Manhattan Beach who now lives in Sydney and works with her cousin’s wife. Small world. Slight prob though – this lady was fucking nuts. Stina couldn’t stand her back in 1996 when she was in her science class. She basically bulldozed the entire day, no one could get a word in, and spent the entire time name dropping all the rich people she knows in Manhattan Beach (then why did you move?) and talking about her amazing daughter who is an actress (in actuality she is a server at the Outback Steakhouse in Sydney). And then there was her younger child. Oh lord, this fucking kid. He was like the poster child for Ritalin. If that was my kid, he would have gotten his ass kicked before we even got into the park and then spent the rest of the day in the car with the windows only slightly cracked (so I wouldn’t get arrested). I think he called his mom “stupid” about 10 times. Not that I disagreed with him – but how do you let your child call you stupid without an ass whooping? I’m starting to think that its not children I’m afraid of, just bad parenting. Wait no, it’s children. I think my ovaries are still constricted from that encounter.

After spending the day with Christina’s family, we spent the night with mine. As coincidence would have it, my Aunt, Uncle and cousins from Redondo Beach were on holiday in Australia as well, so we all met up at our Cousin’s house for an Aussie BBQ. At this point we were pretty desperate for a home cooked meal that did not consist of a salami sandwich made in a hostel kitchen. Our prayers were answered. After lot’s o’wine and extreme over eating (yes, this is a theme), my cousin Brant (from Redondo) wanted to go see King’s Cross, which is Sydney’s version of the “red-light district”, so Stina and I tagged along with him and Carla to see what it was all about. Upon entering our first bar I was immediately hit on by a guy high as balls – we narrowed down the possibilities to crack or acid, although I have no way of knowing as I have not done either drug (because, to quote Whitney, crack is for poor people, and it’s not 1972 so who is doing acid these days?). Not sure how he even knew I was a human, let alone a girl, but if the crackhead wants to buy Rory and her posse a round a drinks, by all means, let the man buy drinks. We left after one round and strolled down to the friendly neighborhood strip club. Now, I’m not strip club expert here, but these were the laziest strippers I have ever seen in my life. It was like they took the surly New Zealand waitresses who don’t give a fuck and put them on the pole. Really pathetic. Luckily I was not drunk enough to give another “drop it like its hot” lesson – I doubt that would have gone over well. When Brant turns down a lap dance, you know it’s bad. And don’t even get me started on how much a lap dance costs. These bitches probably make more than me (more than I used to…since I am currently unemployed). Needless to say, we didn’t stay long. We left Brant in Kings Cross to do what he does best and Carla drove Stina and I home.

Sydney might kills us….

We haven’t really had wifi the past few days so I’ll post a few quick ones just to update you (Australia and NZ hate wifi and therefore, hate me). Sydney has been quite a whirlwind and I got super sick (gross), but I’m powering through it. You’ll also notice I have slightly less to say. Probably because we have been hanging out with our respective families a lot, both who live in Sydney, and so I have significantly less morons in my life to make fun of these days. Don’t worry – we’ll be back to the backpacking thing soon and I’ll be back to my usual jaded and bitchy commentary on the complete and utter stupidity of our generation around the world. But for this week, we are normal people. And normal people play nice. I think.

Sunday, December 28, 2014

Wake up in Queenstown, NZ. Today we slept in and quenched our hangovers with some Ferbergers for breakfast. Then it was off to the airport to catch our flight to Sydney! If you thought NZ was a shit show, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. So day one – here goes. We get in around 3:30pm and my fabulous cousin Kay picks us up from the airport. My grandma grew up in Australia. She was smoking hot and a bit of party animal (see, it’s not my fault – its genetics) so she and her two sisters would troll the Navy parties looking for hot American men stationed there – one of which was my grandpa. They married and he brought her back to Hermosa Beach. I just did it in the reverse order: Hermosa to Sydney. Minus the man. Shit, I knew I was forgetting something. So I have a bunch of family here, most of which I have never met, until now. Kay recognized me in the airport because I look like my dad (that damn nose) and she drove us to Marissa’s friend Dan’s place, which is where we will be staying. We have never met Dan. He is just super awesome, and probably a little crazy, because he invited us to stay with him for five nights in his awesome apartment in the CBD (CBD = central business district, the central downtown area. Aussie lingo lesson #1). Given the fact that the only things he knows about us are (1) we are friend’s with Mar, and (2) whatever he has gleaned from my blog, I think we can all agree he is a very brave soul. Pray for him.

At 6pm my cousin Carla (Kay’s daughter) picked us up to take us out for our first night in Sydney. I have met Carla a few times. The first time I was in high school and she was about 19 and a hot mess. By hot mess I mean exactly like me at 19; fucking awesome. The last time we hung out was when she was in LA with her hubby and a Wednesday night turned into fireball shots and spinning that damn wheel o’ booze at American Junkie. Oh, and jello shots at Sharkeez. So we are definitely related. She brought her brother, Ben, who I have never met but my brother Drew told me is smoking hot (Drew speaks the truth). Don’t worry, I’m allowed to say he’s hot because we are second cousins a million times removed (I think). That logic works, right? We all head off to the Opera bar for drinks. Oh, Opera bar. You saucy little minx. This place fucking rocks. Picture The Bungalow on crack, 12 times as big, and right at the base of the Opera house looking out onto the Harbor Bridge, and that is the Opera Bar. Stina and I fell in love instantly. And then we started to hit it. Hard. I knew the cousins would give me a run for my money and I was not disappointed. Later that night another one of my cousins, Andrew, showed up to say hi.

Me with Ben and Andrew - Aussie cousins
Me with Ben and Andrew – Aussie cousins
But only for a few minutes because he was trying to bag some tinder slut. Do you, homie, do you. Oh, Andrew is hot too. There must be something in the water down here. We pretty much raged all night. By we I mean Ben and I. We all went back to Dan’s apartment and people fell off one by one. I think we had every intention of going back out to another bar, but you know how that goes. Went to bed when there was a faint light on the horizon – I think they call that the sun. Woke up on the couch the next morning at 10am with a raging hangover and Stina waiting for me to go to the beach.

Monday, December 29, 2014

Today we went to Bondi Beach. Bondi basically looks like the offspring of Hermosa (more tourists and bars) and Venice (less needles, same amount of tourists).

Bondi Beach!
Bondi Beach!
But lots of fun, sun and tourists. I was down with the sun, and I’m pretty sure I had the tourist thing down, but fun I was not. Bad, bad hangover day. Spent most of the day laying on the beach chugging as much water as I could get my whoo-girl hands on. Suffice it to say, if you are ever in Sydney and looking to day party, or night party for that matter, Bondi should do ya well. Then it was back to the city for dinner and an early night.