For the first time in several years, I actually participated in the western celebration that is New Years Eve. I went out, like a good young person, partied and danced, drank quite a bit, swum in the ocean and had 4 outfit changes at the Gabbathon beach party. I did not take any photos because sometimes, methinks, life is for living, not documenting. This is a lovely feeling indeed.
It took me a couple of days to recover, but the evening began by traversing to Rah rah and Shelagh’s house in Marrickville where they made us all delicious pies, using Rah’s pie maker, and we left the house at about 11pm. In retrospect, this was a bit silly, but alas, time is constantly changing, is it not? We caught a bus to central, where we met Truly and Matt, who we did not yet know, but we all caught taxis to where we could catch yet another bus to the top secret location. It took us rather a long time to get there, but we got off the bus just before midnight and were trekking through the suburbs, laden down with our gear when we heard fireworks. It was a little bit Tomorrow when the war began, but quite cheery nonetheless. We trekked along the beach for ages, climbed up what seemed to be a cliff and found our people. We set up a little home base with all of our stuff and danced and swum and intoxicated and had an ever so lovely time. My favourite thing about dark outside parties is how people you know can be there for ages but you wont see them for a few hours, so you keep getting nice surprises through the evening. It was so lovely floating about and though it was weird when the sun rose, which is when I cannot sleep I find that I always can, that we still had to go home. And sleep.

Please to be excusing my poor english language useage. I am slightly intoxicated again. I am nervous about the wait for uni results, which we don’t find out til the 21st.