Holy Hell, it is HOT

It's 8:30 am, and I am watching the start of the inauguration n TV. I am so happy, I might cry if I hadn't just woken up sweaty and tired. I guess it already happened. Fuck me for trusting all the Aussies that told us it was going to be live on TV tonight. And fuck me for not knowing how to figure out the time difference yet. Ah well, the beauty of YouTube. Anyway, it's a happy day.
SO, thus far there are a couple of things I've learned about Australians. One, if you go to a bakery and ask for an iced coffee, expect one of the most delicious drinks you've ever tasted. I opened the lid, and discovered two shots of espresso covered with ice cream, whipped cream, and cinnamon. Whaa? Not exactly the bitter morning beverage I'm used to, but that shit was yummy nonetheless. The other thing is that Australian people have no sense about precision when it comes to money, temperature, or time. A $20 cab ride can oftentimes cost 40 bucks, and a 15 minute bus to the beach got us there in an hour. No worries, but I'm starting to wonder how anyone gets any baking done. The other thing that's been hard to miss is how fucking expensive this city is. And when a New Yorker complains about prices, you know it ain't cheap. It's tough being a traveler, and not being able to walk down to the wharf for a nice lunch, but $16 for a hamburger is just retarded. Whatever, we'll make it work. There's this neighborhood called King's Cross that's supposed to be filled with backpackers, and cheaper and cooler than the rest of the city, so that's up there on the list of places to go ASAP. The other thing that must be mentioned is the what the holy fuck amount of beautiful men here. I mean, it's simply not normal. There are beautiful women too of course, but they are entirely outnumbered by the hottie hot men wandering around probably searching for mirrors or anything reflective. Sort of makes up for the inflated expenses, right?
Well, no beach for me today, as you can see by my burnage. As our roomate Brendan told us last night, his face and shoulders on scorched from the sun, "A tan is never healthy." The beaches, by the by, are fantastic. To me, they are what california beaches should look like. Soft, silky sand, water that's somewhere in between the Hamptons and the Carribean. Profiled by tall pine trees and silhouetted by beach front houses, hanging on cliffs, I was loving every second of my sweaty, clammy life.
Today we have plans to hit up a pool that's on the water and have a nice long swim this afternoon. It's right next door to the beautiful and enormous botanical gardens, so we might stop in and take a gander, see some flowers and shit. Good times, man.