I love it when we’re cruisin’ together
Interesting day today. I went to the Newtown suburb on a bus for the first time, got lost a bit in town, guessed a bit, and found the place where I was supposed to go by luck. Very nice location, Newtown, with quaint terraces side by side down the hill, roofs painted in pastels, small rooms, small windows. Kind of feels like the 19th century there, it’s so quaint. And on the way back to Randwick, a drunk sat beside me and asked me out to lunch.
Refused politely, said Newtown was pretty out of the way for me. He insisted he could come over. Ah, haha, no, I really don’t think so, sorry (with a tone). A shower of compliments on me, a joke that made me feel a bit violated, until his stop finally came and he left yelling his phone number to me in case I was interested. Er, no.
But really, I enjoyed my time in Newtown. I’m not trying to give an ironic tone by juxtaposing those two statements. I really did like the way Newtown has these winding little streets with old-fashioned houses.
Anyway, in other news, did a writing exercise for class this evening. We paired up and told each other an anecdote from our life, could be anything. Then we were supposed to write the other’s anecdote into a story. This is my partner’s (she’s Scottish) anecdote, as written (unfinished) by me:
Her father was a birdwatcher so he would have enjoyed it immensely. Both her parents were flying from Scotland for a visit during the holidays. When was that, two, three weeks before? Funny how my memory goes nowadays; she told me this just a few days ago. So her parents came over to Sydney and she brought them to the National Park. I’ve never been there so I can’t tell you how pretty it is in the sunset or how many trees there are, and why bother, but they had a picnic there, the sort with food on the table and smiles all around. You have something like that, you’re bound to get a visitor at some point. This one had a tuft of yellow on its head and white all over. Cockatoo, i think, those types are called, aren’t they, Marie? Or some other. Birds are really all the same in the world, all feathers and stomach. You can amuse yourself feeding them for seven minutes before the claws come out.
Anyway, that was all impromptu writing for about 15 minutes or so. My mind was a complete blank when I started but it turned out fine, I guess. My partner was really on a roll writing my anecdote. I told her about me and that issue I had with the security people back in Beijing. I had almost forgotten about that. But having to retell made me remember how scared I was then, especially when I was being interrogated. Anyway, at least I had an anecdote to tell.
Gosh, I still have stuff to do.