I live in Sydney, Australia, and like most Sydneysiders I am both in love and in hate with Sydney.
A true Sydneysider complains bitterly about where they live while steadfastly refusing to move anywhere else.
If you live in Sydney having an obscene obsession with real estate and being mathematically challenged is definitely an asset. Sydney is an overcrowded, bitter place to live in and it's now, apparently, officially the most expensive city to live in on earth.
I hesitate to call it "home" and have not yet caught myself doing it in conversation.
Sydney is full of intolerant people. Sydneysiders bicker over space on roads and public transport. We elbow each other without shame in supermarkets and when the post-Christmas sales are on it's OK to trample anyone who stands in the way of you snatching up a bargain you don't really need anyway.
Sydney is dog eat dog, and it's not just any old dogs; it's pitbulls.
Even dating in Sydney is a hazard. If you're in the 30-45 year bracket you're shit out of luck when it comes to finding romance. The women is looking for a life partner and the men, being bitter after having been rejected so much in their twenties, hate women and just want to find someone to screw.
Sydney is cold and hopeless and depressing (much like myself).
I don't know why I still live here except for that this is where I earn my money and grow my child. This is the village I have chosen to spend the second half of my life in but I so miss the old days in the Swedish pine and birch forest. My soul is smarting from being in Sydney for too long and it's longing is so strong it threatens to burst out in full frustrated bloom all over the shitty place that Sydney is. What's good about living in Sydney? Not much except that when you start wearing your pink hair it takes approximately six months for 10% of women to follow suit; that's how starved we are of attention and imagination.
Then there's this thing about a new year looming backstage nervously waiting to be brought in by firecrackers, champagne and all that other hooha people tend to get up to and into on New Year's Eve. I have decided that I will limit myself to drinking gin and tonic because the lemons in it are as tart as I am and I've only just become grown up enough to discover it. This was after I discovered Calvados recently but thought it made me look too snobby drinking it. I live in a beer city for heaven's sake!
What will 2013 hold for someone like me? I have no bleeding clue because I have no road map or plan. 2013 lies within a few days' reach and it's a blank slate that I have to fill with meaningful things. One thing I do know is that it's time I do a postmortem on 2012 and my life so far. If you're at all interested I will do it here. If not I will keep it to myself.
2013 is the new year in which I will....(fuck my life up yet again but only enough to write about it here*grin*.)
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