Living in Sydney (the Australian one, not the Canadian one) is boring. Tourists will tell you otherwise but they are silly and wrong. They think its fun because they are constantly riding taxis and if you’ve ever been in a Sydney taxi, you’ll be nodding your head saying, “I feel you, brother.” If you haven’t been in a Sydney taxi before, well, all I’ll say to is this: We don’t have any really big theme parks (Luna Park is quite the miniscule) quite simply because we get enough of an adrenaline rush from a cab ride around the city. Have fun mate! Now I’ve forgotten why I was talking about Sydney being boring…
Oh yeah! Because Sydney is boring, we gotta find other things to do, like hosting Olympic games and World Youth Days. When the Sydney Olympics were around, I was just four years old and had a bob haircut. I watched two tennis matches live, Venus Williams against some random player and a Swedish guy playing another mystery man. I didn’t like the Venus game and my very mature 4-year-old mouth decided to share it with everyone else. “This is sooooo boring,” I whined. My words of wisdom were echoed through the whole stadium. People agreed through their laughter. But the umpire sitting in his high chair in the classic monotone I’m-so-professional-because-I-sound-like-a-robot voice simply said, “Quiet, please.”
When World Youth Day rocked up, I didn’t know what it was all about, but I soon found out that it was a Christian gathering. Being non-religious, I realised that the event didn’t concern me; the only gathering I saw was the announcement of Sydney as host at the previous WYD and a whole bunch of people cheering. Nevertheless, I really liked it.Maybe it was because I thought it was cool that people from all over the world had travelled to one place. And bus trips were made a lot more interesting because these people were always happy, friendly and looking for conversation… Or maybe it was just because it was around the same time as my sister’s birthday and we went to see the Cirque du Soleil production Dralion (which was amazing). Either way, it was a happy time in my part of the world.
But hosting the Olympics in 2000 and WYD are only for a short amount of time and taxi fares a sure fire way to burn a hole in your wallet, us Sydney people must go hunting for other time wasters. The problem lies in Australians’ favourite hobby: chucking a sickie. You call in work/school and you make sure to cough and/or sniffle extra loud, finally your boss/teacher gives you the day off then…. then what?: the question on the lips of every man and woman who practises the great Australian tradition. Then what? The only place to go when on the east coast logically is, of course, further East, to the beaches and into the ocean. We love it there but the water causes shrinkage and wrinkling in areas smuggled through customs claimed as budgies. Floating around in the water all day could have detrimental effects on the children you one day hope to have.
So this bring me to the the end, the finale, the capitulation, the climax of the previous 4 paragraphs, 546 words and 2527 characters (spaces excluded) 3070 (spaces included). Sydney people have nothing to do. But when we have nothing to do, we find something to do. And what I have found, is blogging.
If you have any tips or any feedback at all, a comment would be great! Thanks everyone, I’ll see you around.