Radelaide.

Continuing my interstate adventures, I am now located in temperate Adelaide, drinking too much gin and talking all hours into the night with another, fabulous Jessica Anne. If you want to know how long it takes to polish off a bottle of Gordon's with someone lovely whilst having a good natter, it's approx. five hours and three Nurofens the next day.

I miss this particular girlfriend. We've been making up for lost time in a delightfully daggy way, op-shopping and cooking miso and watching movies, and it makes me remember just how easy our friendship is. As much as I bitch about the insularity and closeness of a suburb like Brunswick, it would be nice to have her living down the street again, since sojourns to Adelaide are time-consuming and hard to make spontaneously.

Anyway. Adelaide seems nice, if small, I've nearly been hit by several buses and I'll probably be back by the end of the week. I'm taking the train as it is romantic and cheap, something I'll probably regret five hours into the journey when instead of making small talk with someone interesting and handsome, or day-dreaming by an empty seat, I find myself sitting next to an obese Christian who smells like dim sims. Not to make generalisations about Christians, or obese people, or dim sims. I'm going to head off before I paint myself into a corner entirely. Bye.