Australian Summer

The holidays in Australia is about sun and fun. Meanwhile it's all about cute knitted jumpers (sweaters) and scarves on the other side of the pole; it's about thongs (flip flops), the bay and threats of bush-fires in our area. I had a wonderful time spending these days getting days off my tacky job and being with special people.

One weekend, I spent the night with school friends which turned to a skate night. Few hours from then, I freshened myself up with nothing but a borrowed shirt with a tie; going for a wedding coverage in my work pants, work shoes and a dampened hair. Yes, I wore my work pants and work shoes while skating the previous night. Back-up photographer, no pressure at all.

 

Then it was 21st December 2012, 941pm. Fireworks at Edge Church Reynella, after the Christmas Carols. I gave up my seat to sit infront amongst the children and also for a good view.

Then my film premièred later that night... Then the world ended.

Then the  22nd was a little neighbourhood party.

Fast forward to Christmas Eve, we went to my sister's at the infamous territory called Smithfield.

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My sister had her backpacker friends over. Two from France, living in a van with a bed. It's like a make-shift camper van. One's from Norway, which is a girl who has really gotten close to our family. Since they were Europeans and we were faahhyouu ahsia pepel, it was a little fun event. So, Christmas morning meant everyone catching up with sleep, but not me. I was on Tumblr on a lazy buoy, watching TV... Then they finally decided to go to our house for the Christmas lunch, which turned to be a dinner.

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Between then and now are just quiet views of the hills. Casual appearances of koalas and kangaroos almost everyday kept occurring too.

New Year's was with my good friend, Alex, my sister and lovely Ida. This included meeting random European hotties, being branded by an intoxicated native Australian as a pop icon, looking for a place to stay for an old woman with a suitcase, getting caught by 2012, sitting in the middle of the road to watch the fireworks, running away from trouble, talking to a man sleeping on the grass that Ida firmly turned down, and missing the bus for homophobic circumstances. 2013, bring it on teenage kent.

*this blog entry has not been proof-read due to the utter laziness of the author, if you've found any typos or grammatical errors: either ignore or let me know to salvage me from further humiliation. long live, comrade.