Cold weather and loud neighbors

These past 2 days have been chilly. Unseasonably chilly. In fact, the news reported that Monday night was the coldest April 28th in 20 years. The cold has made it even tougher to wake up early to surf, but somehow I have braved the nippy weather and scored some fun waves.

But back to Monday night. Since Veronica and I moved into our current flat on Fairlight Street last September, we have dealt with some very interesting next door neighbors. Even though we have never actually met this young couple, we have had the misfortune of being woken in the middle of the night to some very loud coitus on several occasions. I mean LOUD. Not normal, I am talking crazy loud, perhaps making video loud. It honestly sounds like they are in our living room, and at 3 or 4 in the morning on a work night, the novelty of it has worn off. But how would you even broach the subject? Excuse me neighbor, here are some cookies we baked for you. By the way, could you keep your love making down, or choose an earlier time? Good talk, see you out there. Probably not.

Anywho, I had meant to write about our nympho neighbors for a while now. Thought it might give some of you a good laugh. Speaking of laughs, my buddy Ryan is coming out to visit on Friday for 2 weeks. I can't wait to see him, show him the sights, and I am gonna laugh my keester off when he gets woken by our frisky neighbors.

Anzac Day and The Road

Is there anything better in this World than a long weekend? Nothing compares in my book, and we were blessed to have Friday off for Anzac Day (Australian Memorial Day, but you would know this if you read the last post). Veronica and I had thought that we might do things differently this year, but as often happens in life we pretty much did a complete repeat of last year. The only difference being that we arrived at the bar at 4 instead of 11. This was a good thing for our pocket book, but a bad thing for our eardrums and sanity. Arriving sober to a full on Aussie drunkfest is a bit startling I must admit. My ears felt like they were going to curl up and die as they were constantly bombarded by the drunken shrills of countless 20 year old. I know it sounds like a terrible time, but I did have a bit of fun hanging out with our friends.

I surfed Saturday morning with Jay. The waves were good and chunky. A lot of heaving pits were to be had by the nimble footed, but unfortunately for Jay and myself we were none too nimble. The paddle out was brutal as we went straight through a heavy patch of kelp. Not the best seesion, but despite some serious punishment from Mother Ocean I had one ride that I would deem worthy of being labeled 'decent'. Had a great dinner that night at Fish Mongers. Finally ponied up the extra dinero to get the Fish and Calamari and it was oh so delicious.

Sunday we spent pretty much the entire day with Gavin, Martina, and Anna, Martina's mom. Had lunch at the Newport Arms, which is apparently the largest beer garden in Sydney. The locale is very nice, but the food was average. What wasn't average were the employees. Before I slam the complete ass muppets that are employed there, I will do some research to make sure that the establishment doesn't hire mentally disabled people. I would hate to further damage my already very suspect karma.

Finished 'The Road' by Cormac McCarthy on Thursday night. Masterpiece. I was curious as to how it would stack up against NCFOM, and 'The Road' triumphed. Perhaps it was due to it's theme? Regardless, the book was worthy of a Pulitzer. Most worthy.

Before I end this, check out this picture of a huge pelican. This bird was enormous!

Lars

Last night Veronica and I met up with Gavin and Martina to see 'Lars and the Real Girl' at the Manly Cinema. Since Tuesday night is known around these parts as Cheap A** Tuesday, it makes the most economic sense to see a movie mid-week. When put in the context that we don't have matinees here in Australia, Tuesday becomes the only day of the week where one doesn't have to spend $15 to see a movie. Oh the joy of only spending $9 on a movie ticket! But I digress, the reason for the post is to tell you to drop what you are doing and go see this movie pronto. I know it looks weird. The premise is weird. For that matter a sex doll is weird, but despite all the weird, it is magic. Magic I tell you. Do yourself a favor and see this movie.

Additionally, I just found out what that crazy hydrofoil sailboat is called. It is called the International Moth. The Moth is a 11 foot long, high performance, single handed racing dinghy. Crazy!

I've included a few more pictures that Gavin took back at Monkey Creek for your enjoyment as well. Cheers.

More Rain

The past 10 days have been overcast and rainy, and the weekend flew by in a haze of grey. Despite the crap weather, Veronica and I had a good time hanging out with each other and spending time with friends. Spent the two days moving at a leisurely pace, enjoying some tasty food and coffee. Hit up Barefoot both mornings to satiate our need for a delicious flat white. Additionally, I had some fish and chips from Fish Mongers, always a delightful treat. Of most interest to everyone would be that we met up with our friends Martina and Gavin and they gave us pictures from Monkey Creek and from FlugTog. Let me tell you, there are some gems.

First, man boobs over here on the left. Can you believe that? MB was a highlight from FlugTog day. It didn't matter what was happening, inevitably your eyes would lead you to his hideous man nipples. Yeah, I might be a tad mean, but come on! COME ON I tell you, if you have MAN BOOBS like that you need to wear a t-shirt at public venues. This isn't the beach bro! Seriously, cover yourself so I don't feel like dry heaving into my hand!

Enough of Man Boobs for now. Gavin took this gorgeous photo of the windmill on his Dad's farm, which I thought everyone might enjoy. The next photo is a sailboat that appears to have been designed by Laird. I've never seen a hydrofoil Hobie cat, but it looked like it was seriously fun.

This week is a short one for us since Friday is Anzac Day (Memorial Day), the biggest drunk/gambling fest to grace this land. Nothing says respect like public drunkenness. DOH!

A work week of solitude

As the title suggests, I have been alone this week. Veronica had to go to Dubbo on Monday night for the week, so I have been at home by my lonesome. Not much has been going on, only surfed once this week on Tuesday morning. Pretty chunky waves out at Manly, but with all the rain the water has gotten dirtier than a Bangkok brothel. Yeah, nasty to say the least. The waves were good, but I had a tough session, mostly taking off on closeouts. However, my last wave was a complete redeemer as it walled up nicely all the way into the inside.

Our weekend was fun as we went to a massive 21st Birthday Party on Saturday night. Charlotte, our former roommate Morgan's girlfriend, was having a party at a coffee shop called Ground Zero. Good times. Although I have now come to a rather sad conclusion; free alcohol isn't good for the tight, miserly Matt. I seem to revert back to my college days and really let loose. Nothing wrong with that, until Sunday morning arrived and I felt like a rotting corpse. Took it EXTREMELY easy the next day, delighted in a delicious Barefoot flat white and Veronica and I went to run some errands. That night we went to see 'Before the Devil Knows Your Dead' with Philip Seymour Hoffman and Ethan Hawke, directed by Sidney Lumet, of 'Serpico' fame. Good movie, but damn, depressing as all hell. Seriously, if you have a drug problem, money worries, or family issues, you might stay away. Don't walk into that theater expecting to walk out a happy human. Very good film, and we enjoyed going to see it at the Hayden Orpheum Picture Palace, an old school movie theater in a ritzy part of North Sydney.

Veronica gets back tomorrow, so I am extremely excited. I've included a picture of Veronica and I at Jamie's birthday celebration at Tex Mex from 2 weeks back that I just got.

Searching for a barrel

I awoke early this morning to a beautiful blue sky and no wind. Praying that some of the swell of the past two days would still be around, I drove with my buddies Andy and Jamie up to Dee Why. Paddling out in the turquoise glass it was obvious that it we were in the midst of a special day. By far the best day we’d had in two months.

Midway through the session I stroked into one of the sets of the day. I got into the wave early, set my rail on the vertical wall and pulled into a super clean barrel. The tube was completely makeable. It felt like I was deep in the bowels of the wave, but in reality I was in the perfect spot. Almost instantaneously after being covered by the cascading lip I heard the noise suck out of the hollow vacuum. The visual was even more lustrous; peering out of the open cavern I could see the light refracting through the liquid curtain. But, it was all over before it began. Before I knew it my board had slid out from under me, (How? Yeah, I wish I knew how!) and I found myself screaming underwater as the wave picked me up and recycled me over the falls.

Yes, I had some fun waves during the session, and I realize I am lucky to have even been in the water during a weekday, but this turn of events was extremely dispiriting. I have been in countless tubes now, and I have yet to make it out of one. Something always seems to happen to prevent me from exiting one of these glorious anomalies. I am starting to suspect that I am cursed in the barrel. Somehow my desire, this unending quest to taste the elixir of perfect aquatic Zen has conspired to jinx me in my endeavor.

Truly, God delivered me a perfect wave. Flawless, hollow, not too big but certainly round and inviting, and I did my usual, incompetent dance, spoiling an absolute gift.

Regardless, I will soldier on, quietly confident that one day I will bask in glory as I exit my first barrel.

Birthday Tex Mex, FlugTog and the Onion

It was an eventful weekend. On Saturday we celebrated our friend Jamie’s birthday. The festivities started out with a large group of us competing in a heated 18 holes of Pirate Mini Golf, or as we like to refer to it in America, Putt Putt. Both Veronica and I had not played in a long time, and I have to admit it was actually quite a fun time. After our team smoked the competition we all headed up the road to have dinner at Tex Mex. No, I am not referring to the kind of food, but rather the actual name of the restaurant. Texas flags adorned walls both downstairs and upstairs. However, when I looked at the menu and saw a burrito listed at $21, I began to have the sneaking suspicion that whoever owned the place was a complete retard who had never been to Texas. But I must say the food wasn’t bad, nothing spectacular, but not pathetic. An added bonus was that they made a tasty margarita. Nonetheless, it reminded Veronica and I how much we miss Mexican food. We only have a month and a half to go before we are gorging ourselves on all the Tex Mex and Mexican food we can eat though. Glorious!

Sunday we woke early, grabbed a coffee from Barefoot and caught the ferry into the city. Red Bull was putting on the first Australian FlugTog. The FlugTog is the competition where madmen run off a 20-foot platform in the hopes of flying (gliding) across an expanse of water. Since it was free, and also being held right behind the Opera House in the Botanical Gardens it seemed like a no-brainer to go check it out. And so did the other 60,000 people who showed up. Luckily for us our friends Martina and Gavin got the there even earlier than us and got good seats. We had an enjoyable day cheering, laughing, and cringing at some of the pathetic attempts at flight. None of the 36 entrants even cleared 15 meters, let alone coming close to the World Record of 60 meters. Further proof that not many Australians are likely to get recruited to work for NASA. Good times.

One last thought for the night. Veronica and I have finally found one negative from having LASIK eye surgery. Namely, without contacts protecting our eyes, the vapors emitted from a cut onion now burn’s our eyes like the dickens! Last night I cooked some pork chops, but I was ready for the onions this time. Taking extra precaution for my eyes I relied on Veronica’s swim goggles to help protect me from the vicious fumes that waft through the air. Team VM 1, Onion 0.

Cormac

Last night I finished reading 'No Country for Old Men' by the great Cormac McCarthy. If I were limited to using one word to describe the book it would be the same word that I would use for the movie, INTENSE.

The movie was pretty close to the book. Minor differences, slight changes to slim some of the dialogue down. Perhaps most telling is that the Coen Brothers had Anton Chirguh speak even less, which is a shame because the extra dialogue really pushed him into being even more insanely scary, if that is possible.

Such a good book, but I have to say I think it affected my mood this past week. Unfortunately I was already feeling down in the dumps, and this book did nothing to help it. Regardless, great read.