There were two episodes of Sex and the City where Carrie and the girls jet-off to L.A. for a week away from toil and trouble. Over that time, the girls discovered glamour, beauty, and all the narcissistic pleasure that money can buy under the sunny skies of L.A. After a few days though, they realised that much of L.A. was superficial - everything was skin-deep and driven by aesthetic considerations. All that mattered seemed to be what looks good, rather than what is good. So when everything got far too much to bear, the girls checked-out of their wallpaper*-esque hotel and flew back to New York. Carrie walked in the door of her apartment, lit up a cigarette, and she was home.

Last week, I had my Sex and the City in L.A. moment.

After three days in Sydney - going through a minor alcohol binge session, one romantically OTT pash session under the moon with a classical view of Sydney (city skyline, Opera House and Harbour Bridge), two meets with man-of-my-dreams over meals, being ridiculously stood up by one guy I wasn’t terribly interested in, one run-of-the-mill fuck, and my brain subsconciously worried about my unfinished paper - I was so over the glitz and glamour of Sydney. So at 16H on Sunday, after having rushed through the market on the Rocks, Bondi Junction, Paddington and Oxford Street earlier in the day, I knew it was time to go home. At 18H, I was on the coach on my way back to Canberra…

Posted on December 23rd, 2005 by jl
Filed under: Life!