Day 203 - Luna Park

How creepy is this place...



So, its been a quiet week here in Sydders. The day after the gig was spent in a hungover fuzzy daze. I woke up in Sam's bedroom at 11am, face down and fully clothed with 6 people all gathered around me dragging me up to go for lunch. I'd had about 3 hours sleep and wasn't impressed, and couldn't face any food, but sat in the sunshine in good company for a couple of hours. Then in the evening we all piled round to THE flat of the century. The kids (sarah, dan, kirsty and kelly) managed to bag an AMAZING flat, on the 17th floor, overlooking Darling Harbour. Its lush. It has a roof-top pool (one floor up) and a sauna and gym. And there's 8 of them piled into the 3 bedrooms, lording it up in style. So what do they do? They have a houseparty.





The night is loaded with drinking games and good music. My personal favourite was The Simpsons Game, where you each get a character from the simpsons and have to say your name and then someone else's, but without showing your teeth! Sam loved it...



We also caught a quick firework show which reminded me of someone back home (you know you who are). This was my best attempt at capturing it on film.



And then at 4am I piled back to the hostel, where I drunkenly managed to goad two people to climb into the luggage lockers, one girl into a tumble dryer, and a whole load of us into a laundry cupboard. I'm like a naughty school kid these days.





On Sunday, a few of us headed to the Soho of Sydney (Kings Cross) to catch a film at Govindas, an indian restaurant with a cinema upstairs. Its hailed as one of the world's most comfortable cinemas, and its amazing. Right, the chairs aren't chairs. They're mattresses. And cushions. The seats down the front are beds. The ones near the back let you sink down to the floor. Its kinda couply, but we don't care. And to prep you for the film, you get a gourmet indian meal on top. This place is great. Its a shame its vegetarian. And doesn't serve alcohol. Killer. The film was awesome though ('The Departed' by Martin Scorsese).

The next day was a blur of a late morning, watching dvds in the hostel tv room, going to the supermarket to buy one thing, sending some christmas presents (how good am I since I have no money) and playing way too much Uno. My diary doesn't actually say I did anything that day, so it must have been bad.

But Tuesday was a different story. I STILL have a job to get, and that is exactly what i was going to do. Now, a bit of background. I have a bit of thing for dressing up in full-body outfits. I recently went to a 'dead celebrities' party in a full body Pink Panther outfit, followed by a wedding reception. And then work. I've always wanted to be Mickey Mouse. Always. And don't get me started on the Badger outfit I saw on eBay a few weeks back. If its full-body, I wanna be in it. and if its an animal, its even better.

Anyway, Sam called me yesterday to say that Luna Park - the tiny Coney Island styled theme park right under the Harbour Bridge - was having a recruitment day for staff. Of course, I go mental. Right, this is my chance to get PAID to dress up. I could totally be one of those clown people all dressed-up, walking around, having my photo taken with kids. Like the Nando's chicken that wanders around chinatown. This job is for me.





So, I rope the kiwis and Rachael into coming to the park with me for moral support, via a brisk stroll across the MASSIVE Harbour Bridge. The walk was great - it takes AGES but its so worth it. The views are great, the sun is shining, and the bridge is long. But eventually we make it the other side and wander down to Luna Park.



There's signs all round the park for the 'interviews' which are being held at the other end. Its creepy. It was an old park from the 50s that was shut down, and has only been reopened a while, but its mad. The imagery is sick. And the place is run down and filthy. Its grim. But I'm gonna get the dress-up job if it kills me.



That is until I see this...



That's right. Its like a bloody Pop Idol audition. There's literally HUNDREDS of people here, queueing for interviews. 10 desks at the back of a massive hall are lined with interviewers and their nervous teenage interviewees. I'm probably the oldest applicant, and after 3 of us fill out forms, I suddenly realise I'm an idiot. The form asks "how old will you be on your next birthday?" followed by 5 boxes that say "16, 17, 18, 19 or 20+". This is so not the job for me. Its for children. After waiting half an hour and filling out the whole form, I screw it up, chuck it in the bin, and head round the corner to the pub to grab a drink. I'm never gonna get a job.



Depressed and miserable, Suzi leads me to some bars where I ask about jobs and leave my CV lying round. But its looking grim. I STILL don't have anything. Any day now I'm going to run out of money and then I'll be screwed. So what do I do? I go out with Suzi and club-rep-Sam and get drunk. of course i do.