Coffee and Wine: January 26th- 31st

January 26^th- 31^st 

            Today is Australia Day. Given that I had class and it was a Monday, it was nothing special. Everything closed down early. All the day drinking had caught up to the bars and those that hit them early. But I was ready to party. After a full load of classes all day, and “taking the night off” the night before I was ready. At least the local drive through liquor was open, thus fulfilling my natural college-aged craving of whatever’s cheap. I used to say that it all takes you to the same place... and in some respects it does, but in most that line is something that I’ll let dwell in the past. Trying to approximate how much wine, red or white, is justifiable for a pregame is a hard measure. There are lots of things to take into account: what the color is, what the alcohol content is, what size glass you’re drinking from, how fast you are drinking it, and what time you’re heading out on the town. A couple of weeks ago I might as well of been an 8^th grader, or freshman in high school. I had had wine before on the occasional Sunday or Tuesday with Cramer while we sat around and watch a couple TV shows, but using wine as the sole entity of a pregame is a world that I was not yet prepared for.

            After 3 weeks, I have slightly heightened my knowledge on wine binge drinking... the keys to my success are remember: it’s not beer so drink slow, and also bring a toothbrush to the pregame if you’re drinking red.

            This knowledge, coupled with my more consistent and good eating habits, and my afternoon runs and workouts have helped my body feel somewhat healthy again. I have emerged on the other side of the trough that I fell unknowingly into during my first few weeks here.

            I had my first coffee today and ironically it was the latest day that I have slept in since I have started this travel. I felt tired though, and we had a 5 minute break between a movie screening. After the first sip of the Medium Dark cup I was instantly hooked like a fish and stunned as to why I have not indulged in my former vice sooner... the cup was fantastic, and although I forgot to ask for it to be iced, which in the 90 degree heat is crucial, it was still amazing. The hook was pulling me closer and closer to the residual effects of heightened awareness, dissolving sense of tiredness, and constant interest. Each grew with another sip. I had forgotten of how great I felt every morning this past semester heading to class after my two cups. While I’m going to attempt to limit myself with one cup a morning, I cannot make any promises once I get the lid off of my canned, cheap, instant coffee that is staring at me right now.

            Today is Friday and it is exactly what it is suppose to be. The beginning of the weekend... I roll over when my alarm goes off at 4:55am. I shut it off. As my squinted eyes open, a moment of drunken questioning goes through my head. Even if you have not been that drunk the night before, call it an early night, or just wake up at 4:55am there is always a flash of a purgatory-like state where the dreaming stage ends and reality becomes more prevalent. This can be mind-blowingly confusing if you have had a very realistic dream, or you have been slammed the night before.

            I contemplate as to whether I should call my friend or fall back asleep... I rest for 5 minutes and set the coffee. I gather my things, check the internet, and head out the door with surfboard and proper beach essentials. We are surfing South Stradbroke Island today. This involves an extremely dangerous rock jump into a shark invested inlet, and an even more dangerous climb back up barnacle and/or slime coated boulders all while watching out for boats and waves rolling in. The island really is neat though. It reminds me of Hatteras without houses. This is the first scene of somewhat isolation since arriving in this tourist infected city. I love the nightlife here, but trying to surf with a million people really isn’t my thing. I’m really not even sure why it is called “Surfer’s Paradise.” It is like the Virginia Beach Oceanfront on steroids: beach souvenir shops, Subways, 7-11s, surf shops, ice cream parlors, and my favorite which Virginia Beach lacks: heaps of good Kebob storefronts.

            After the surf I hit the hay around 12 for a cat nap. We head to the beach again... the swell is bigger, the other surfers better, and the rock jump is (at another beach) a bit hairier than the former time I surfed it. I regroup eat dinner and realize that I am in dire need for some post-it notes, postcards, and batteries.

            I head to Preston’s and we begin pregaming before hailing a cab down to Kirra. I wake up to an empty night (forget everything I said about learning how to drink wine), set the coffee, and prepare for a run... something to make me feel productive, like there is no wasted time.