Hard Knock Life

Tonight. Was a very very hard night.

I apologize in advance, I don't want to "alarm" anyone or make them worry about me. But I just need to be frank and honest -- and, more importantly, I need to vent.

My day today started very normal, much like my days here in Australia. Wake up with the sun, contemplate what I really want to do with my day and do it. Today was scheduled as boxing day and we (as in all the housemates) made plans to go to the Randwick Races.

But, that post will have to wait.

Right now, I need to talk about my night. Not my day, but my night.

After the races, Melanie and I came back to our place to veg. She went to the beach to get some sun -- more sun -- and I stayed back and posted my Christmas post and turned into a bum.

I've been gaining weight here and haven't been happy about that at. all. It's caused me to kind of fall back into this depression I had when I woke up one day and realized, "I'm fat."

This is something I've been battling since day one in Australia. The food here is amazing. The exercise -- waking up hill everywhere -- seems sufficient enough and it's not. I'm used to a heavy routine of exercise and cutting out a lot of breads and the good stuff in life...I've been doing the opposite here.

Picture after picture I take of myself I slump more and more into this, "why again?!" attitude. And it's, frankly, starting to kill me.

So. After being a total bum and really thinking about this over and over again, I went for a walk. Not a very strenuous walk, but a walk nonetheless.

After, I walked into our room where I found Melanie dressed up again (as we were earlier) and with a bottle of wine in hand. I laughed, because she looked absolutely ridiculous, and she told me she was off to the Coogee Bay Hotel (CBH) to meet up with the Irish lads we live with. I, of course, was invited. I decided to stay back and do 20 minutes of the 30-day Shred DVD my friend Kelli gave me. I would meet up with her later.

I finished the workout session and wanted to die. I was covered, head-to-toe, with sweat and was proud of myself for getting off my butt and exercising.

I hopped in the shower and put on a dress I would never normally wear. Ever. I found it at a shop here in Sydney for $10 and thought...maybe one day. Turns out every girl here goes to town when it comes to going out. I hate it. I like my jeans and a nice shirt. Gets the boys back home. Why does it have to been so different here?

Case in point -- I haven't really met anyone. So, I thought, why not. Put the dress on and see what happens.I hate to say this, but I thought I looked pretty damn good. Definitely not my norm, but good enough to impress someone. Anyone?

I waited in line at the CBH forever, finally got in, walked around to find Melanie surrounded by a group of guys. I literally sighed and thought in my head, 'figures.' I stood around her for a hot minute and after being ignored the entire time, I took off to get a glass of something -- anything to ease myself into the night scene.

After I came back, I found Melanie making out with some guy...classy. Not that I'm any better, but as I said before, 'figures.' I stood around for a bit, danced with some really drunk Asian and was told that the whole crew of guys are Rugby players. I looked her dead in the eye and told her to be careful. She's a bit of a magnet for trouble and these guys were no different. I know they can definitely be aggressive and even more so when alcohol is mixed in.

I got a text message from Pedro, the guy I work with at Barzura, saying he was at Bonit Road Hotel. He told me to come along and since I wasn't interested in CBH or the Rugby Players, I thought why the hell not. Plus -- it's Pedro. More face time with him!

I got a cab, although it took me 400 years to find one, and had a great conversation with the cabbie. He was very polite, told me a few things about his life and Sydney -- then we arrived at Bondi Beach Hotel. I know what you're thinking, but Pedro is at Bondit Road Hotel. Well, he told me to go there and all would be okay. So I call him up -- no answer. I get in line, show the security guy my id -- get a compliment that I'm from Florida, "ooo and so beautiful," -- and I walk inside. Call Pedro again. Text Pedro. No. Answer.

This is when I thought to myself yet again, 'figures.' I just knew this was going to happen. I spent a $20 cab ride to Bondi for what....to walk around a new bar? By myself? What was I supposed to do...sit down with a drink and look awkward? If you know me well enough, I have a hard time not looking awkward sitting by myself drinking. It's pretty pathetic actually.

So. After a long walk around the huge bar, gaming room, hotel, patio, I decided to leave. He did originally tell me he was at Bondit Road Hotel -- maybe it was different.

I walked up the strip and back again with no avail. I still hadn't heard anything from Pedro and it had been 40 minutes. I walked around, thinking I could go into a bar and make small talk, but decided my night was bunked and I might as well go back to Coogee. I hail a cab on the road and run over to his passenger side down.

As I open the door, I decide it would be really smart to slam the door into my face. Oh yes, ask me how I did it and I couldn't tell you, but I thought it'd be a great idea to basically punch myself in the face. Boy, did that freakin hurt. The cab asked me if I was okay and I was already tearing up because of the stupid night I was having. He started to go and I looked down and saw I had definitely pushed my bottom lip into my teeth and was bleeding. He turned on the light, took a look at me, pulled over and got me some tissues. Of course, the meter was still going the whole time this was happening.

The whole ride home, I kept putting pressure on my lip, trying to stop the blood while stifling the tears in my eyes. Eventually the physical pain began to subside, but the emotional pain form the night began to take over.

I told the cab to stop in front of the Palace Hotel and I'd walked the rest of the way. Yet another $20 down the drain.

Who called as soon as the cab pulled over? Pedro. I couldn't even begin to tell you the anger, frustration, hurt, etc. I felt with that phone call. My lip had stopped bleeding, but I felt like the biggest loser in Coogee. I cried the whole walk home. Pathetic, I know, but it's therapeutic I'm told.

And how's my lip? Well, there's a picture below, but I want to warn you.

Ladies and Gentlemen, children of all ages, scroll down only if you dare. If you are hypersensitive to disorderly redheads living in Australia, leave now! I will not be held responsible for any emotional distress this may cause, any nightmares produced or any Baker Acts induced by the following image. Reader's beware, this may cause damage to your eyes.

What? It freakin hurts.

Thanks, Blogger. I feel better now. I needed to get that off my chest.

Anyone have any tips on how to meet people -- good people -- while I'm here in Australia. Cuz so far, everyone blows.