Summer days, drifting away.

I never thought I'd say this, but I'm really getting into the whole early mornings thing. I mean, not that getting up at 7am is especially early. It's just, relative to my usual efforts of rising at eleven or noon over the summer holidays, seven o'clock is early. And considering last night was a late night, too - or an early morning, really. That's because, folks, I went to Beachball at Manning Bar.

I wasn't thinking of even going this year, you know, because I thought I'd be well over it by now. But I went and ended up having a good time. It started with beer and cocktails at Hermann's and drunkenly stumbling towards Manning House (yes, ashamedly already trashed - blame Simon and Pat) and waiting in line for a couple of hours because someone wasn't smart enough to buy tickets beforehand. Bah! More drinking ensued. Not healthy.

Another thing that's so not healthy: I came so very close to kissing a girl. A GIRL! Luckily I freaked out and went outside for a breather. Crisis averted. A pox on chicks who try to turn gays straight. It just isn't happening ladies.

Anyhoo, so despite all of that, I still managed wake up in time to get the 8.15am ferry this morning and grab something dodgy to eat for brekky.



HarbourCat Pam Burridge coming alongside Meadowbank Wharf.



The dodgy McCoffee that accompanied my breakfast at Customs Square this morning.


Listening to:
Title: In Between Days
Artist: The Cure
Album/station: Greatest Hits (2001)
Length: 2.58