Your woman from Fifty Shades fame is reportedly making $1.2m per week from sales of her books. $1.2m??? Hello? Could I do this? Surely I could research some stuff, watch some porn, make shit up and rake it in. In my lunchbreak. Not sure I could do the whole "serious" thing. Like, who has a shag and then catalogues the whole event for their next book? Or is that not how it works? Do you just imagine the shag, and then write about it? I'd get the whole logistics wrong, with him with his underpants still on, or them not having got off their bus or whatever. Still, would make even more interesting reading.
Anyway, city life continues to be fun and interesting and all the things I thought it might be, and some.
First weekend in the city ON MY OWN. But as usual, I didn't end up on my own and had lots of things to do and see and share, including a very farking eye opening trip to North Sydney pool and more specifically the changing rooms afterwards. Holy sweet mother of Jesus, there is a breed of their own there. Walk into the ladies change rooms (circa 1880) and there is this older lady (rich, coming from me) who is seriously totally naked and LUBING up and down her body and in particular in between her legs (and, I might add, she and Brazillian Hot Wax have never been introduced) and looking around to see who is watching. Averts gaze. To the left where another woman with an oak tree of pubic hair is BLOW DRYING HER HAIR totally naked. Hello? Put some farking clothes on lady. So gaze is averted once more to open plan showers where ANOTHER nudster is busily soaping up under a cold shower. Fark. It felt like Ancient Rome and Sparticus and Fifty Shades and a Lesbian Nudist Colony all in one go. I was never so glad to get out of there unscathed, feeling very prudish about having my towel around me as I made a pathetic attempt to get dried, and ended up getting all caught up in trying to get out of there quickly and putting dry clothes on a wet body and not managing to get the sports bra with the racer back on properly over my bits and I am sure they were thinking "if you can't beat them, join them" which was really not the case. Fark. It was with great relief that Kristie and I exited the builiding. Next time I will bring comfy "get into quick" clothes, and dark glasses and possibly find myself a very interesting thing to look at whilst getting changed. Like the floor.
Also, North Sydney pool is SALTY. And Chloriney. Which is a rather horrible combination. And the cafe next door makes bacon and eggs. So mix salt, chlorine and the smell of bacon and eggs....yeuch. Salty swollen mouth, competing with a sort of strange hunger from the bacon and eggs man. And the fact that I was in a lane in direct sunlight and could see fark all and punched a few fellow swimmers and swam into the wall at least three times, made for interesting times.
Anyway, now I know all about how N Sydney pool works, I will be prepared with a big furry murkin for the change rooms, mouthwash and easy on easy off clothes. I also got very brave at the weekend and TOOK MY CAR OUT. Since I have been here (three months now) I have let the car sit there all week and have taken trains, taxis and runs to get me from A to B. Sunday, I decided I had to be brave and drive somewhere, so took the easy option (i.e. not over the bridge) and decided to drive to Chatswood. The drive itself wasn't the issue, it was finding the farking car after the shopping spree that was the problem, but I solved that (humunguous car park) and now know my way up the Pacific Highway. Next time I am in the city, I have to drive across the Bridge - MY NEXT GOAL!!!
Also, have signed up for dancing classes - oh my farking god, I have as much co-ordination as Supre's Winter Collection, but here we go. Ceroq dance class at North Sydney on a Tuesday night. In Kathys words, "Sonia, you will get to dance with EVERYONE there. All the men. Fat, short, smelly, tall, gangly, greek, italian, you will have to dance with them all" . Har. Challenge.
Actually very excited about a new sport. Dodging the smelly guys at dancing....
Anyway, city life continues to be fun and interesting and all the things I thought it might be, and some.
First weekend in the city ON MY OWN. But as usual, I didn't end up on my own and had lots of things to do and see and share, including a very farking eye opening trip to North Sydney pool and more specifically the changing rooms afterwards. Holy sweet mother of Jesus, there is a breed of their own there. Walk into the ladies change rooms (circa 1880) and there is this older lady (rich, coming from me) who is seriously totally naked and LUBING up and down her body and in particular in between her legs (and, I might add, she and Brazillian Hot Wax have never been introduced) and looking around to see who is watching. Averts gaze. To the left where another woman with an oak tree of pubic hair is BLOW DRYING HER HAIR totally naked. Hello? Put some farking clothes on lady. So gaze is averted once more to open plan showers where ANOTHER nudster is busily soaping up under a cold shower. Fark. It felt like Ancient Rome and Sparticus and Fifty Shades and a Lesbian Nudist Colony all in one go. I was never so glad to get out of there unscathed, feeling very prudish about having my towel around me as I made a pathetic attempt to get dried, and ended up getting all caught up in trying to get out of there quickly and putting dry clothes on a wet body and not managing to get the sports bra with the racer back on properly over my bits and I am sure they were thinking "if you can't beat them, join them" which was really not the case. Fark. It was with great relief that Kristie and I exited the builiding. Next time I will bring comfy "get into quick" clothes, and dark glasses and possibly find myself a very interesting thing to look at whilst getting changed. Like the floor.
Also, North Sydney pool is SALTY. And Chloriney. Which is a rather horrible combination. And the cafe next door makes bacon and eggs. So mix salt, chlorine and the smell of bacon and eggs....yeuch. Salty swollen mouth, competing with a sort of strange hunger from the bacon and eggs man. And the fact that I was in a lane in direct sunlight and could see fark all and punched a few fellow swimmers and swam into the wall at least three times, made for interesting times.
Anyway, now I know all about how N Sydney pool works, I will be prepared with a big furry murkin for the change rooms, mouthwash and easy on easy off clothes. I also got very brave at the weekend and TOOK MY CAR OUT. Since I have been here (three months now) I have let the car sit there all week and have taken trains, taxis and runs to get me from A to B. Sunday, I decided I had to be brave and drive somewhere, so took the easy option (i.e. not over the bridge) and decided to drive to Chatswood. The drive itself wasn't the issue, it was finding the farking car after the shopping spree that was the problem, but I solved that (humunguous car park) and now know my way up the Pacific Highway. Next time I am in the city, I have to drive across the Bridge - MY NEXT GOAL!!!
Also, have signed up for dancing classes - oh my farking god, I have as much co-ordination as Supre's Winter Collection, but here we go. Ceroq dance class at North Sydney on a Tuesday night. In Kathys words, "Sonia, you will get to dance with EVERYONE there. All the men. Fat, short, smelly, tall, gangly, greek, italian, you will have to dance with them all" . Har. Challenge.
Actually very excited about a new sport. Dodging the smelly guys at dancing....
