Honestly though, I've been so busy eating all this delicious food that I can't blog as much or as fast as I eat! If you think about it, it's all really just research for posts. That's right. Hard work! I'm basically slaving away for you, my dear readers, so don't give me a hard time. Ah, it's such hard work! Phhuuuiii, I guess I'll have to have a piece of brownie for that. Purely for research purposes, obviously. I did a pretty good job talking myself out of this, didn't I?! Tsehehe. Even I'm impressed with myself.
Check out those names!
To make up to you guys this is gonna be one mightily big, long post. I'm warning you! You asked for it! It’s about time I finally tell you all about Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras in Sydney. There were events for a couple of weeks but I’d say the big Parade down Oxford Street on Saturday night a week ago was the highlight.
A week before that I had gone to the Gay & Lesbian Day Fair, actually believing I was going to a big market. Sure, it was a market of some sort but it mainly consisted of stalls advertising sexual health, equal rights and all types of different gay clubs and organizations from Gay Olympics, Gay Nudists to Gay Chess. You name it and it had a gay equivalent at the fair.
The athmosphere was relaxed and happy, everybody enjoyed themselves and it was all for a good cause. It should be like this all the time. Okay, so maybe it would be a tad inappropriate if queers paraded around in speedos and thongs at the office, chanting "Blowjobs are a boy's best friend"... I thought it was hilarious though!
I have a thing for trannies and I don't even know why. Possibly because they're like over the top women, always out there, self-confident, strong and full of fun, living life in technicolour. Some ladies could definitely use a dose of glitz and glam sometimes!
My friend and I had decided to dress up for Mardi Gras, go to the parade and then hit some gay clubs later for a good old party. Gays definitely know how to have a good party! I didn't have to think about what to wear for long because as it happens I'm the proud owner of a rainbow-coloured, leopard-print vest top that just screams Mardi Gras. Teamed with a fluffy tiara, some angel wings and more glittery slap than I've ever worn before and I was good to go.
To say Oxford Street was busy would be an understatement. The route of the parade was closed off and the sidewalks were filled with people standing on stools to get a better view. We went to Taylor Square where the parade was supposed to end and therefore it was probably the most crowded place we could have picked.
It took us the whole 2-3 hours the parade lasted to work our way from the last to the front row. My pint-sized friend had a bit of a hard time seeing anything at all and hadn't it been for the lovely gay couple standing next to me and pushing me into gaps to take pictures I wouldn't have been able to see much either. The beginning of the parade was a bit slow and lame but when it had picked up, boy, it was a celebration indeed!
"Queens" indeed!Unfortunately there was this group of obnoxious Germans standing right next to me who thought it was appropriate to light cigarettes in the middle of a massive crowd and I was just waiting to get burnt so I could give them a piece of my mind. There was this one particularly annoying guy who kept shouting at people because they didn't party hard enough in his opinion and he was frustrated he wasn't standing in first row. Tough luck, sweetheart! He kept jumping up and down, bouncing into me for a good while until I had really had enough, pushed him and told him to eff off. To my bad luck his friend had copped I understood German and so he pursued to give me the most offensive abuse in German for the whole first half of the parade. Against my nature I decided to completely ignore him instead of taking him on big time and he got so unbelievably frustrated that I didn't give him the satisfaction of reacting in any way or leaving altogether that he eventually disappeared and I was finaly able to actually enjoy the parade. Although I didn't react he was impossible to ignore as he kept shouting into my ear and it took me all my willpower not to smack him in the face. Just that he would have probably enjoyed it in some sick way and therefore I had chosen the right path by pretending he didn't even exist at all. He did manage to ruin my enjoyment of the parade for a good while though so I had all the more fun when he'd finally vanished into thin air.
YMCA!When I told friends about it later on they were surprised I didn't tell the nearby officers who probably would have removed him but I didn't know that! Another lesson learned I suppose... I'm pretty certain I wasn't the only person he annoyed because he kept making homophobic remarks and actually had the impertinent audacity to tell that lovely gay couple to stop kissing and keep that for home. The cheek of him! He musn't have been aware he was at a flipping gay parade! I really despise people like him!
Enough of negativity now and back to the peaceful, happy light-heartedness of the parade and its colourful, creative and flamboyant costumes and floats. The more outrageous and fancy, the better! There was a lot of naked flesh, sequins, feathers, glitter and daring floats like a gay jesus / pope on wheels and a mobile S&M studio where tied-up slaves got spanked.
Typical and up-beat gay music blasted from the speakers, everybody joined in singing YMCA, the mood was celebratory and we had a great time. It was almost impossible to take proper pictures though as we were standing where tv filmed the parade and interviewed participants and therefore there were too many people blocking the view. Little smart-arse that I am I also completely forgot about the night setting on my camera.... at least I know why my fuzzy pictures aren't exactly up to par now.
After the parade we saw many other on-lookers who had made an effort dressing up and it was clear to see this celebration was definitely a big deal.
Funnily enough my friend and I never made it to any gay party but ended up at a friend's farewell party at Cargo Bar in town instead. Albeit having taken off my wings and tiara I still very much looked like a tranny (all that was missing was a pair of socks shoved down my knickers and confusion would have been perfect...!) and probably stood out a good bit at this place where everybody was dressed preppily as if they had never even heard of Mardi Gras. It's not like I didn't have fun but I'm sure to have missed out on Mardi Gras madness at some crazy gay club. I guess I will have to make up for that once I'm in London!
Understandably I was suffering from a hungover day-after-low despite not even drinking - ever... That's what high-heels, lack of sleep (3 hours!) and too much body glitter can do to you. I felt very old and worn-out. There, I said it. I'm getting old. I can't just party all night anymore and not feel the consequences the next day... Eekk.
Causing a bit of confusion with the poor, new waitress when ordering my food I finally went for Toasted home-made Granola with dried fruits and nuts on yoghurt, tropical fruit salad, some other porridge-style yoghurt with something mixed-in it, possibly oats and mixed berries.
While I sat outside at the counter on the sidewalk it started pouring down, perfectly reflecting my mood. I was lost in thoughts and enjoyed my delicious late breakfast which was very filling indeed.
The thick slice of Berry Bread was dense, rich, moist and had a strong banana flavour to it like most of these kinds of bread have over here. You can really get this stuff in every café all over the place and I like it.
I really enjoyed the home-made granola with fresh berries and tropical fruit salad, it was very reviving and yummy. My only complaint would be there was too much yoghurt and too little actual granola. I guess the reason for that is that yoghurt is cheap'n cheerful whereas they have to mix and toast the granola from scratch which is quite work-intensive. Still, I paid for it and I want my money's worth.
At first glance I wasn't even able to make out the granola under the big pile of berries and yoghurt. Not that I'd ever complain about too many berries or too much fruit! You'd have to be crazy to do that.
I mixed the whole lot until it didn't look quite as appetizing anymore but it was good and all the different components were well-distributed and complemented eachother.
I'm a bit fussy when it comes to mixing stuff... ask my family and poor boyfriend! I'm known to snatch cutlery out of people's hands to mix their food for them because I can't stand the sight of them munching on a bit of dry rice or pasta without sauce. I simply can't help myself...
When I got back to the flat I did more boring grown-up stuff that made me feel pathetic and old, also known as doing laundry. Yaaaaaaaawn. At least I spiced things up by walking down the street in my Snoopy pj's when I had to get coins for the laundromat. How hardcore am I? Nothing says young and hip like strutting your stuff in pink nightwear...