When do you stop growing up?

I recently was feeling a bit down in the dumps about my experiences whilst going out, meeting new guys and all that jazz. I concluded to myself this was all because I was young. I'm still a freshman. Well actually I'd be a sophomore now considering it's my 2nd year post-18 years of age and in the gay scene. But regardless, I told myself that things will get better when I'm older. It'll be easier for me to meet new guys, go on dates, hook up, go out and have fun when I'm not so much envisioned as the baby of the group (being the gay scene).

It got so far that I even put an age on it.

22.

Things will get better when I'm 22. I mean Taylor Swift sang about it. I'm not a teen anymore. I won't be looked at as a baby. But 20 is the "base age" I guess. You might as well start from 0. 21 is a great time because although it only possesses some sort of liberating yet extraditable legality as in the States, synonymous with the hegemony and Westernisation-norm they convey, it's still a great age to celebrate in Australia and other countries alike. I envision 21 to be that sort of party age but. 21 is when you party heaps, everyone around you is turning 21. We're all maturing. And best of yet, it's the age I see the most casual sex happening. Why? You're equidistant from the young kids and the old kids. Well I guess so in the predominant gay scene. Then again, this is merely what I've envisioned and of course am possessory of bias.But then why 22? Because everyone gets over a slut phase, but they still want to sleep around but there's a greater want to date and settle down because let's face it you can't stay in the scene forever.

It's sort of like that stigma that's present in high school. The Year 7s, the new kids on the block, although had some form of superiority in primary school are completely void of that upon entering a totally new community and scene. There's the innocent Year 7s contrasting ever so starkly to those that are "mature" for their age, in my high school these were the ones that spoke so profoundly about sex, masturbation, drinking, cigarettes and in some instances drug use. There were the Year 8s whose claims would be a bit more truth-based merely on the impression that they were older than the Year 7s. It's that stigma that Year 7s pretty much only hang out with their group, give or take 1 year, then there were the ones who were a bit rebellious for their age they hung out with the older guys (albeit a bad influence).

However, I find it so odd considering I pretty much lived the final, senior years of high school in anticipation of turning 18 to finally be who I am freely. Although a lot has been fulfilled, such as meeting some of the most amazing people of my life at university, through friends or even at nightclubs that I regularly keep in contact with (and may even be reading this post), I still don't feel fully immersed in the gay scene. I feel like one of those bananas that are still green but are slowly turning yellow. You can't make banana bread out of it, it doesn't taste as good as it is when it's yellow, but it's recommended to pick them out from the groceries this shade because it's pretty much going to be staying out on the kitchen bench so long that over time it'll ripen.

Weird metaphor, I know, but it totally makes sense.

Time makes things better and heals.

But how about when I'm 22. What if things aren't right? Will I say to myself then:  things will get better when I'm 25. Things will get better when I'm 30. 35? I have no clue.

I feel like I will always be stuck in this void of wanting to grow up and not being satisfied with what I have at whatever age I am because I have this perceived image in the back of my head about what it feels like to be a certain age. Especially since my perceptions have been right so far being 18 and 19. I turn 20 in December and I can't imagine things changing simply in a day. It's a perception I have gained over time. In all honestly I feel like 19 was such a shitty age. Nothing big really happened, which exactly was my perception. It was that "filler" age.

I guess the best thing I can do is be the best 19 year old or whatever-age-old I am at that specific moment in time. If it conforms to my stereotype, I guess I won't realise it until I really do sit down and ponder about how I act in accordance with my age. Writing this I do realise that age is not indicative of maturity. No way. Some people of a certain age may even have a falsified maturity about themselves and be broken inside. It's very strange.

I guess I'm just super excited to be finishing another chapter of my life and the new-leaf is synonymous with a turnover of who I am, a new chapter.

Why Nicki Minaj's 'Anaconda' is the feminist anthem of the year.

I'll start off by saying, no this is not a sarcastic post.

It will definitely be something highly influenced by one's own moral compass, inevitably debatable and my entire opinion can be quashed by those of others, but I guess this is my perspective from everything I've learnt about societal concerns about feminism and the pivotal obligation of feminists on achieving gender equality.

As Beyonce reiterated in her epitomous song '***Flawless':

Feminism - The advocacy of women’s rights on the ground of the equality of the sexes.

These grounds of equality include social, political, economic, sexual, cultural, etc.

Now, what sparked this opinion of mine? Well of course it was Nicki's performance at the 2014 VMAs juxtaposed against Beyonce's iconic medley of her album. This included the interlude during the transition from Bow Down to Flawless in which the following is said with FEMINIST in capital letters behind her:

We teach girls to shrink themselves, to make themselves smaller
We say to girls: "You can have ambition, but not too much
You should aim to be successful, but not too successful
Otherwise, you will threaten the man"
Because I am female, I am expected to aspire to marriage
I am expected to make my life choices
Always keeping in mind that marriage is the most important
Now, marriage can be a source of joy and love and mutual support
But why do we teach girls to aspire to marriage
And we don't teach boys the same?
We raise girls to see each other as competitors
Not for jobs or for accomplishments, which I think can be a good thing
But for the attention of men
We teach girls that they cannot be sexual beings in the way that boys are
Feminist: a person who believes in the social
Political, and economic equality of the sexes

I just personally think it's highly hypocritical and farcical that we can't proclaim Nicki Minaj as a feminist but we can with Beyonce or even Jennifer Lopez (both of whom I also adore listening to and love, this is not a diss post).

I don't feel like Nicki and Beyonce are polar opposites, but Nicki is an animated, hyper-stigmatised version of Beyonce. Beyonce is married, has a child, her tour is called "Mrs. Carter" and has definitely championed some unique genres, sounds, aspects of the music industry. Nicki, in contrast, is extremely dependent on sexuality, constantly tittilating us with her quirky raps, her inhibition to create music, personas and auras that exude extreme nonchalance at external opinion and perspectives. Nicki raps about having sex with guys, having money, having a big ass and although one can conclude, of course depending on your moral compass, that these may be areas that are better not said, this actually emphasises Nicki's role as a feminist icon.

Why's that? I seek to clarify the difference between pride and sexual objectification. I also seek to disprove the conclusion that sexual objectification almost always compromises the ability for the entire theory of feminism to evolve and grow.

Nicki is a female rapper. Constantly calling herself the "Queen of Rap" (which of course is highly debatable), it is no doubt that Nicki's uprising, predominantly since the release of 'Super Bass', has been a rockclimb with a hefty napsack through the heavily emasculated hegemony of the rap industry. Joining the names of Lil Kim, Missy Elliot, Eve and the like, Nicki joined the club of caricatures of freelance, feminine sexuality and aspired to be one of the most notable people in the rap and music industry regardless of class (from Southside Jamaica Queens), race (a Black American) and sex (female).

The ubiquitous sample of Sir Mix-a-lot's 'Baby Got Back' reverses the narrative of human sexuality. How about we discuss the fact that instead of me liking a girl's beautiful behind, we turn it on its head and talk about how I'm proud of my great behind and it is not necessarily an object of the masculine race but a gift which I choose to give to people. Moving on to the single cover, which sparked incredible controversy, it definitely highlights our need to ensure sexual portrayal is equal. This is one part I did find maybe a bit contrary to my argument, but I ultimately conceded that we see men in underwear, shirtless, or sexually provocative just as much as we see women. Nicki is saying she has a beautiful behind and she's proud of it. One may argue that such provokes sexual objectification, that this is simply to please male desires and express the empirical nature of scantily clad women.

“The song ‘Anaconda’ is a bold, sex-positive statement about a woman’s ability to own her own body and sexuality. The video, though, completely fails to follow through on the song’s potential for a powerful feminist message, instead relying on the tired trope of hypersexualizing women’s bodies,” Sophie Kleeman wrote for Mic when the video dropped online. “It opens with Minaj and a gaggle of backup dancers in a jungle setting, writhing and sweaty as they grind against the ground and each other. It also features Minaj in a kitchen, chomping down on a banana and covering herself with whipped cream. Drake also makes an appearance — but only as a prop for a lap dance during which, as Gawker informed us, he got a ‘boner.’ This maybe doesn’t count as empowering anyone except Drake.”

Most people would argue that this scene displays the most sexual objectification but it is the subtle hints that show it isn't. Nicki is showcasing her control over her man. It is her choice to twerk on Drake, and the moment Drake decides to try to grab a slice of her cake, she whisks his hand away and walks off. What does this mean? It means, boy, I was trying to show you my beautiful assets but you just ruined it by trying to grab it without my permission. Bye Felicia.

It is obvious that Nicki is not the most modest person, constantly boasting the fact she is an empire. Perfume. Fashion. Music. Even her own moscato. The one thing we hate is her gloating but this actually simply displays her nature to be the battering ram in her industry's hegemony, simply microcosmic and symbolic of the struggles that females in employment and other areas where they may not be able to make money. Nicki simply shows it's possible. I can already imagine one refuting me saying "Yeah, but she made all that money on being fake. On her fake ass. Her fake tits." No, not really. She told us "I ain't a businesswoman, I am a business, woman." in her verse in Madonna's 'I Don't Give A'. It was in her critically panned song 'Beez In The Trap' that she talks about getting the money. Even in her iconic verse in 'Monster':

"And if I'm fake, I ain't notice cause my money ain't!"

Actually even on that very song, Monster, Nicki was the only female rapper with Jay Z, Kanye West, Rick Ross and I don't even know if there was anymore people on that song, but you get the point. And guess what. Her verse was pretty much agreed as the best in the song, and pretty much it's universally agreed that's the best of her career.

Beyonce's surprise album was applauded as a feminist appraisal. It discussed female sexuality, self esteem, appearance and self acceptance. We find her 16 minute performance at the VMAs which included pole dancing, singing about "can't keep your eyes of this fatty Daddy", and the holy-moly silhouette of her grand-derriere during Partition, feministic; but we don't find Minaj's pride anthem.

We find 'Fancy' by Iggy Azalea, a song about material gains being synonymous with status and superiority in a highly capitalistic (somewhat Bladerunner) world inspiring and pretty much accepted, yet we don't find Minaj's outspoken pride of her personal appearance acceptable.

Minaj is simply a caricature of all things we find acceptable, she is highly animated, crowd-striking and eye-opening. I implore you to venture deeper than Minaj's sexualised lyrics and realise the control and complete posture she has in her career and music. It is something which we don't need to conclude as sexual objectification. Pride does not equate to sexual objectification, but also on the other spectrum, does not equate with narcissism. Pride in a sexual sector does not equate with the conformity a woman possesses to please the male eye. It would be non-feminist in itself if we didn't bring up the fact that men themselves operate within a social hierarchy predominantly dependent on physical appearance, muscles and masculinity. Instead of creating a scale based on objectification we should acknowledge that people come in different shapes, sizes and looks, it is also possible to create whatever look you want to achieve and such is dependent on personal self acceptance.

I don't know, I literally just wrote this in about 5 minutes because it annoys me everyone pays out this song but loves Beyonce for her sexuality. It's like, double standards peeps? I think I didn't portray my opinion that greatly, but you get the point.

Falling for the one night stand.

Now I know a lot of people take the use of "love" and "liking someone" quite rigid as to its socially-constructed meaning, primarily being the predominant normative presupposition that it requires time to fall in love with someone; ie. the concept of love at first sight is non-existent. (I write this as I ad lib Kylie Minogue).

So regarding the title, I guess "falling" just means "falling for someone" not necessarily falling in love. Heck, I wouldn't even call it love myself. I would say love is developed over time, the moment you go out with someone or are in a relationship with someone, I don't even think that's love yet. I'm not sure how I would define love, probably because I know that I haven't yet had my first love. I've had a lot of likes, lusts and lingering affections, but I've never experienced love.

Anyway, besides that conversational tangent, let's get back to the main focus of my post today which is gaining feelings for someone you have a one night stand with. Now obviously this won't be a scenario or necessarily reflective of what the regular person or midnight lustrous perceives, it certainly has not happened to me before with my numerous sexual escapades, but this is something that has recently occurred to me. So take this from a narrative and personal perspective.

So I met this guy at a club that knows some of my friends, immediately making out on the dance floor and me vivaciously perusing him as to the extent of his inclination to retreat back to his place to bang, I thought "dang, this guy is hot". I was in that mood. It had been a while for me to have any sexual experience with a guy, and quite frankly, I needed to get laid. (Of course again, read this with a personal perspective, even though this may not be your preferred method of sexual relieving one's self).

Only when we were leaving the club and stopped making out to get a taxi did I finally talk to him, getting his name and trying to give off this facade that I'm actually not a slut (I think it's because it may be a bit of a turn off for some), we were engaging in great banter and conversation.

So yeah, we had sex.

And then we continued to spoon, cuddle and then both slept.

I had woken up with his arms around me and vice versa. It was in the morning that I didn't have this feeling of regret, nor did I have a feeling of the relief that I finally got laid. But I was like "wow, this guy was great". Not just in bed, but by how he acted in bed.

I guess it should be customary for people you have intercourse with to respect your wants and needs and obviously not do things without your consent, but I don't know how to explain it. He was gentle, and soft, and diligent. He wasn't awkward in the morning, we continued talking even proceeding to get the train together and continue talking. For example, about the friends in common we had etc.

It's only now that like 4 days later that this guy has been on my mind every day that maybe I am gaining feelings for this guy. I actually want to see him again. The moment you see a one night stand again, it doesn't become a one night stand. It either eventuates into:

1. A two night stand.
2. A one night stand turning into a date.

And of course the list continues on from wherever the last branch was.

Some people pursue one night stands and random, casual sex as means of tallying up or purely for the sake of it, placing minimal moral value on sex. But it's weird because, that is me at times. I don't really care about the ethics of random and casual sex. It's pleasurable, and something I think everyone should be able to loosen up and experience. But it's undeniable that during intercourse itself, although purely sexual, emotions are still in play. You're not going to have sex with someone you're not sexually attracted to, at least physically to say the least. You're not going to lay there while you're being brutally penetrated not thinking "man this guy is hot" or "his body feels so good" and so forth. It is still an opinion and emotion. And the susceptibility for one to infiltrate sexual emotion into love and affection is something which is highly catalytic in someone's ability to fall for someone they have a one night stand with.

Deep down I know it's a recipe for disaster, ie. me hoping to meet this guy again for a date. It has happened once before where I didn't end up meeting a one night stand I had felt similarly (but not to such a great extent as this) with, only to be telling myself "I told you that you would get hurt".

But what is it? It's the concept of masquerading and facading to avoid unlimited exposure to one's inner emotional sphere, purely for the sake of minimising embarrassment or looking like an idiot.

It's like, imagine if the morning after you told them you liked them? They would just look at you and be like, but how do you know that? It's the inability of another person to fully comprehend another's innate feelings in such a limited amount of time. So maybe by that very virtue it is impossible, non-sensical, or at the minimum non "definitional" to be falling for someone after a one night stand.

But I guess I'll have to see how it goes, and so be it, I get tricked a 2nd time, but I guess it'll be another stepping stone on my not-so-yellow brick road to ascertaining my own capabilities sexually and amorously.

Review: Courtney Act live at the Beresford Hotel.

On  20 July, the Beresford Hotel and its highly popular Sunday night was delightfully dazzled by internationally home-grown drag queen Courtney Act for a welcome home party.

Courtney Act has been an iconic figure in the Sydney gay community and scene. Although I only reached the ripe age of 18 two years ago, she has been lingering in the backdrop, seeping her way into seemingly hetero Australian culture, appearing on Australian Idol for its first season (which I do shockingly remember!). She's been legendary in her efforts at promoting Mardi Gras Sydney and promoting gay events such as at the numerous gay clubs in Sydney over the years.

Her big shot came when she was in the sixth season of RuPaul's Drag Race, achieving success by finishing in the top 3 alongside Adore Delano and Bianca Del Rio.

Sunday would be the first time I would see Courtney Act live even though I had been "in the scene" for two years. The audience was delighted with other drag queen performances to prep us up for the big one. The music was a mixture of tribal house, electrified classics and modern favourites, which got me extremely anxious to see the queen in action.

Courtney came out, for what was classified as a promotion of the globalisation of Sydney Mardi Gras. She generously sang 3 songs - All the Lovers by Kylie Minogue, Mean Gays by herself, and A Little Party Never Killed Nobody by Fergie (which Courtney's version at Mardi Gras Party 2014 absolutely slayed).

I was so amazed and shocked by how great her performances were and how unique she is as a drag queen, her singing ability is top-notch. Everyone in the audience was greatly proud of her, especially how she never lets go of her roots, even going on so far to tell us how her song Mean Gays was actually somewhat inspired by the people she knew in Potts Point.

 

After the show, Courtney greeted her fans, taking photos and doing signatures, which my friend and I (left) were luckily enough to get a quick photo and have a mini conversation with her. She exuberated nothing but utter kindness and she was certainly not a bitch. I know a lot of people that feel that Courtney came off a bit bitchy in the show, but I feel this is certainly misrepresentation as she was so nice to us after the show calling us cute and engaging in conversation with us.

Thank you Courtney for meeting us, an amazing show, and doing Australia proud not only on RuPaul's Drag Race but for all your numerous efforts of support for the Australian gay community over the years.

Why Ian Thorpe's coming out is his own personal medal.

Evaluating the extent of how newsworthy and relevant Ian Thorpe's sexuality is on a blog is in itself ironic and paradoxical. However, I am somewhat irked by the immense exposure and publicity which will, but not limited to, amount to greater culpability to bigoted, outdated opinions that will only detriment the main thing we should be emphasising about Thorpe - his struggles with addiction and depression.

I do applaud Thorpe on his ability to, after unnecessarily arduous years of speculation (which in my opinion should never have been public, it was merely something adding pressure to him), to be able to accept and come to terms with his sexuality. Especially being able to do so in the context of sport, something which in my opinion has been starkly hetero-normative in nature. This situation resonates mildly to the case of diver of the United Kingdom, Tom Daley. Daley as well was highly thunk to be non-heterosexual and after considering his sexuality on a personal basis, decided to do so public via a Youtube video where he "comes out", although not limited to, him having sexual feelings towards males.

It takes bravery, courage and these only come after someone truly grows to accept themselves and be comfortable in their own skin. The struggles we get along the way whilst growing to terms with this can make people more stronger or even make someone continue to live in denial. The road of self-acceptance we walk on isn't the same for everyone. Thorpe said during his interview that he was publicly questioned in the media since he was 16, lived day to day with homophobic insults such as "faggot" and "poof" something which he himself could not be proud of because at such a young age and still hadn't figured out who he really was.

If we continue to live in a day and age where public announcements of an aspect of someone's personal and private life, being their sexuality,  is a news headline or topic then we have a long way to go. 'We' not being solely the gay community, but worldly morals, values and opinions. Today I scrolled along my Facebook newsfeed reading comments, surprisingly by a lot of gay people, degrading him for something "well known". I believe this is not only a very negative representation of the gay community but also something which we ourselves should not be proud of. Yes, something non-sexually attributed which we can acclaim ourselves our pride to. We spend our efforts telling people and creating ad campaigns with things such as "It Gets Better" yet when someone (just because they're a public figure) does so, It Gets Insulted.

It's not that important, he's made it , and I quote, a bigger issue than needs to be. But there are pretty much two ways to interpret this. Yes, okay, it doesn't matter in the sense that this does not downplay his extraordinary sporting achievements, his longstanding commitment and philanthropic contributions or even affect how some people or Australians view him (seemingly because they have thought so for a long time). Yet, in contrast, it DOES matter because we cannot continue to live in a society which degrades or ostracises beings for something so minimal to someone's personality. If you continue to think that this is such a major component of someone's personality and makeup, I implore you to go to the biggest gay club in your city and find people of different shapes, sizes, colours and that's just with you focusing externally.

Oh and I'm not even going to address the ridiculous argument about his accused "fraudulence" especially surrounding the amount he was paid for the interview. I'm pretty sure getting paid for interviews is something very common for people that are famous regardless of the content they decide to talk about. What about celebrities that sell their wedding or baby photos for magazine? It's pretty much the same thing.

I decided to make the feature photo to be one of Thorpe smiling to emphasise the greater concern here - his struggle with depression acting microcosmic to many individuals . Thorpe himself said it's not the real cause of his depression but contributed to the lie he was living by conforming to other people's standards, ambitions, goals and his inherent need to satisfy people. Depression, something which is somewhat intrinsic to the nature of being a public figure or celebrity, does not discriminate. Saying that though, it definitely does happen to regular people. Of course, I am stating the obvious. I believe this interview, after nearly 20 years of being in the public realm, is Thorpe's outcry or exaggeration of how we as humans need to possess a quality which is mindful, compassionate and vigilant of people's feelings and emotions.

If you know anyone who is dealing with depression or if you yourself are, don't hesistate to contact Lifeline or any other services in your local area or country. Sometimes just letting things out to a neutral party can be such a relieving option.

Lifeline 24 Hour Crisis Support - 13 11 14

Film Review: The Fault In Our Stars (2014)

"Good friends are hard to find and impossible to forget."

Incredibly bored and emotional one day, I decided it was about time to watch a film that would make me cry all the pain out. Oh boy, was this it.

These macabre, cancer novels and films have been done so much before that it can be characterised as a genre in itself. This is embellished when during the beginning of the film, the initiation of the characterisation of Hazel, I was bored to say the least. The film then evolves into something of greater contemplation and Hazel's character becomes somewhat obselete in the backdrop.

Based on John Green's bestseller novel of the same title, The Fault In Our Stars, is a story about two cancer sufferers that meet in a support group that, not so unexpectedly, fall in love with each other. Gus (Elgert) and Hazel (Woodley) connect via their profound admiration for their respective favourite novels. Hazel's is one titled 'An Imperial Infliction' with a story of its own bearing strikingly close resemblence to Hazel's life as a cancer sufferer who will eventually one day leave all her loved ones behind. It is to this fact that Hazel questions the ending of the novel which ends mid-sentence, yet inextricably is in search for the answers regarding herself when she dies.

Hazel is unaware of the fact that in this journey of finding the answer to the novel, involving her briefly enjoying a trip in Amsterdam with Gus to meet the author, that the answers are all in front of her.

The film is one of tragic, teenage-like love and drama. It is destined to leave you in tears and sobbing, surprisingly, in tears that are of a niche sadness. The film is placed on a road of subtlety and you are overcome with emotion because you are immersed so greatly in the position of Hazel that her enlightenment will shock you too.

It would be desirable to ensure that you approach the film with little-to-none cynicism and allow yourself to be immersed in the positions of the characters involved, even minute ones. What one would perceive to be a minor character, Hazel's mother, you will grow to realise her character development and what she has to say about Hazel's status which I like to characterise as evolutionary is pinnacle to the subtext of the narrative which you will only be enlightened about at the ending. The contemptuous nature of Van Houten that is portrayed so effectively by Dafoe is an answer in itself, their meeting foreshadowing the future of the loved ones that Hazel will leave behind, yet paradoxically that she herself unknowingly is prone to as well. Becoming agitated at having received no answers from Van Houten, Gus and Hazel spend the rest of their trip in Amsterdam together, and at the second encounter with Van Houten, he says in Latin "life comes from life", which Hazel shrugs off and scolds him for returning. Only when she realises what Gus has done that she realises that Van Houten is a caricature of all the answers she'd been searching for and that he is (in a hard-to-swallow nature) correct.

I thoroughly enjoyed this film, I guess it's because I am a late-teen, young adolescent that approaches films that I know are heavily poached with drama with great sensitivity to my emotional boundaries.

Oh another thing I really loved about the film is the soundtrack. Featuring vocals from Ed Sheeran, Birdy and Charli XCX, everything worked cohesively to create emotion and allow yourself to be in the shoes of the characters.

Film Review: The Normal Heart (2014)

"What our citizens must know is this: America faces a disease that is fatal and spreading. And this calls for urgency, not panic. It calls for compassion, not blame. And it calls for understanding, not ignorance. It's also important that America not reject those who have the disease, but care for them with dignity and kindness."

- President Reagan's amfAR Speech. May 31, 1987.

Directed by Emmy Award winning Ryan Murphy and produced by Brad Pitt, 'The Normal Heart' is a touching, passionate, quasi-autobiographical film revolving around the birth of activism surrounding the AIDS crisis in the gay community during the 1980s.

The film begins with the main character, Ned Weeks (portrayed by Mark Ruffalo), leaving a boat onto an island of sexual utopia and liberation. Shaved and chiseled chests, exhibitionism and freelance orgies market the place to which Ned looks down upon. He brings up the notion that hyper-glorified sexualisation is at the compromise of finding true love. Representative of my experience identifying as a gay man, it is often perceived when we enter into different areas regarding our community it is all fun and rainbows and glitter, when at times it can take a turn for the worse both emotionally and physically. He is visiting the island to celebrate his friend Craig's (portrayed by Jonathan Groff) birthday. Craig is actually an individual with HIV-AIDS unbeknownst to his companions.

The aura of the film instantly switches once Ned reads an article about the new "gay cancer", which interestingly was actually the coined term in the beginning stages of discovery. His friend Craig later dies at the clinic that Ned is at with his boyfriend Bruce (portrayed by Taylor Kitsch) not even being permitted to kiss him goodbye. Ned, commonly known for his outspokenness and audacity, takes it upon himself to take Dr. Brookner's (portrayed by Julia Roberts) advice and spread the word about the new disease, with little success. Synonymous with the utmost denial of HIV-AIDS during this period, outcries are like a tree falling in the woods with no one there to hear it, and more and more people are dying. To this, Ned is ashamed of his friends for sitting by idly whilst they do nothing and obtain no passion similar to his on the issue. He approaches Felix Turner (portrayed by one of my all time celebrity crushes, Matt Bomer) who is a closeted New York Times reporter to illuminate on the issue, to which he dismisses due to his position in the company not being ample enough to cause a reaction on a disease which ultimately is unfounded and his masqueraded journalism: "I talk about gay restaurants, gay discos, gay parties, I just don't call them gay."

Felix and Ned begin a romantic relationship, remembering (quite ironically), their first encounter in a gay bathhouse. What was a truly passionate scene for me was the sex scene in which Matt Bomer's character CRIED when he was having sex. He cried. Quite climatically, when you thought the film couldn't get more dramatic, it does. More acquaintances die and Felix dies as well, with the activism surrounding the issue still receiving limited exposure. Jim Parson's character is one of great notability, a caricature of the general interest of the public, he is initially complacent in nature towards the issue. Somewhat grim, whenever someone dies from the disease, he takes their card out of his rolodex and stacks them, stacking at an exponential rate. The ending of the film is what I would characterise as a peaceful, somber mood. It doesn't elevate the drama of the film, but definitely highlights it in somewhat of a calm nature. Ned watches people as they dance, gay men and woman together having fun. It makes evident the idea that there is still happiness on the other side of the road even though you may be diagnosed with HIV-AIDS.

Maybe not so evident in the 1980s, management of the disease is there and although it still is highly stigmatised, the 80s were a period of denial, complacency and refutability. The assertive and at times angry portrayal of the doctor by Julia Roberts was a stellar performance. During the film you often wonder why she's in a wheelchair, and that just makes her seem even more angrier. She represents the people of the gay community, simultaneously lamenting the loss of their friends and connections, and bid to try and put an end to this reciprocative turmoil.

The strong cohesion of the cast ensured the film maintained a steady emotional involvement even though the film at times seemed melodramatic and highly tangential at times during the plot line. For instance, I debate whether or not the inclusion of the Bruce/Albert relationship was relevant, I believe it was merely inserted to reiterate Bruce's denial of himself and highlight the initial point of Ned about love because Bruce has moved on quite so quickly sexually from his deceased partner, who may be able to be classified in nowadays terms as a "friend with benefits". Nevertheless, unnecessary.

What the film does greatly is not only highlight the ostracisation of homosexuals, the denunciation of the disease as a whole and finally the lack of response in the 1980s, but extends greater to reiterate its strong presence still to this day. The resentment that HIV-AIDS is only a gay disease has somewhat been lost as a schism now, yet still with no cure or virus, it is important to highlight that HIV-AIDS still affects heterosexual people than homosexual people (arguably by matter of population, but still, it affects people of all types). Society may discriminate you by having a higher chance of contracting it based on sexual orientation and identity, but HIV does not discriminate. Arguably something considered novel by the comparative paucity of the disease, it is something often forgotten. But because something is little, does not disintegrate its culpability of raising awareness.

I finished watching the film in tears.

Day 36-38: FIN.

Tuesday the 11th of February.

Not much to say about today. I woke up at 8:30 to have my shower and finalise packing my stuff. Every single piece of my baggage is stuffed to the rim and it's so heavy. It's weird how in the gym I could easily lift 20kg and now I'm lifting my luggage and I'm struggling. Not a good fitness sign.

I left a note at the apartment thanking my cousin's roommates for letting me stay and made my way to the public bus to get my Megabus. I was forced to buy an extra megabus seat ticket because my backpack was so packed it counted as a carry on and my luggage was over the limit. Oh well it was still cheaper than a flight, and I have alcohol in my bag, they wouldn't allow it if I got a plane because it's not direct.

The bus ride was excruciating and I didn't get one minute of shut eye. It was horrible. All I pretty much did was listen to "Can't Remember to Forget You" by Shakira and Rihanna for 7 hours. No joke. The bus also smelt very bad and wasn't as pleasant as the trip from LA to Vegas. We stopped at a Mcdonalds and I had a medium fries with a hot and spicy mcchicken. I'm starving. Don't judge.

Finally we reached Union Station and I got a shuttle bus to LAX where I purchased alcohol for my dad and cologne for myself because it was so cheap. YSL. Yes bitch I'm designer!

So now I'm en route to Sydney for 15 hours. This whole trip has been one of self discovery, independence, bravery and hardship. I left being so rebellious and filled with hatred towards my parents that this was a major fuck you to them but being away from them for nearly 6 weeks has really made me appreciate them. This trip has helped me make new friends and meet interesting characters, however I SOLELY attribute to my outgoing and exuberant nature. No one would've befriended me if I wasn't the one to be all up in their grill. Instead of being filled with hatred towards friends or people that don't care about me, who I now obviously and definitely know, it becomes more of a tolerance issue. Don't tolerate people who don't care about you, but at the same time don't give them your energy and persistence by hating them. Just cancel them out of your life. I can't wait to go home and block people that don't care about me out of my life, and they're gonna know it. I've strengthened so many friendships and created new ones to have sour lemons dragging me down.

After my Euro trip 6 months ago I became a spoilt little sex brat and this trip has made me a mature yet still outgoing young man, or so I think.

The next two days will be spent in transit. I leave on Tuesday night on my flight and arrive Thursday afternoon.

I just realised I didn't make a post about my Britney experience but I will edit my display picture caption with the story.

If you read this blog, I honestly thank you. I've gone deep into detail and tried to recount to the best of my ability. If you ever at any time read this blog please tell me. It really means a lot to me, whoever you are.

I've gained a passion for travel and blogging and appreciation so much so that I will continue blogging in the future about my adventures in life under a new url.

Stay tuned because this is only the beginning of a changed Stefano.

Thank you.

Day 34 and 35: San Francisco

Day 34: Sunday the 9th of February.

I woke up today hoping the rain would stop. It didn't. Ugh, great.

I had breakfast which included a "Mexicano Mocha" at a local cafe with my cousin before his flight. The district I'm staying in is called the Mission district. It has a heavy Mexican and Hispanic influence with numerous cafes, restaurants and salsa bars nearby. It is quite refreshing to eat real Mexican food rather than street tacos and Chipotle (an "Oporto" like version of Mexican food). We talked about when we are going to see each other again. Hopefully he goes to Japan in July and that flights are on sale by then because I would like to see him again. He's one of the closest cousins to me and it's so funny because I only met him like 3 years ago. He really has his life on track having a good job that allows him to travel a lot and have his expenses paid for. I envy that.

I said goodbye to him as I got the bus into the city to meet my other cousin (the girl) and her family.

Before I met my cousin I stopped at where Joyce was staying. She was leaving today, and I hadn't seen her yesterday, so I couldn't let her leave without saying goodbye, that would be a really cunty move on my behalf. I saw her in the lobby and it dawned on me that this was the last time I'd see her until I went to France or she came to Australia. I still remember the first time I met her in LA. I had met Jeanine that night before with Peter, Jerry and the creepy German who said paintball was illegal but if it were he'd kill everyone. Anyway, the next night we ventured out on our gun adventure (I had blogged about this before) when I first met Joyce. Jeanine had asked Joyce to come "shooting" which Joyce said "We all have our own interests, that's one of yours, it's not one of mine". Jeanine didn't mind however the misinterpretation was evident when Joyce asked Jeanine "When are you getting the photos?" Joyce had thought Jeanine was doing a model shoot. From that day I hung out with Joyce pretty much everyday, wondering if she thought I was annoying or a spoilt little brat. Our friendship blossomed when we organised to go to Vegas together after 10 days in LA. We spent 10 days in LA, 3 days in Vegas, and nearly a week in San Francisco together. Of course, I wasn't with her everyday but obviously there was an attachment.  Reminiscing about it, I sort of feel bad now thinking maybe I may have been too exuberant on our days out. I would tap her arm whenever a hot guy would walk past. I remember one specific instance when we just left the hostel and I was checking out a guy and she said "It's so early in the morning and you're already checking out guys!". That was when I realised I had a problem. Hahaha. We'd sing songs together like "Slow Down" by Selena Gomez or "Timber" by Ke$ha, yet she'd get annoyed when I sang "Work Bitch" by Britney Spears predominantly because I'd be singing it everyday. We would talk to each other endlessly about our past problems and issues, our love lives, our insecurities and our ambitions. She was a comforting shoulder and someone that listened to me and was always open ears, for instance, like that night before the Lakers game when I just had a mental breakdown and started crying on the way to the Staples Center because I was homesick and thought I had no friends back home that cared about me. It's so weird how someone, a total stranger, would have such an impact on my life and that's why I guess I'm so happy to be exuberant and outgoing and "in your face" because if I wasn't like that, our friendship wouldn't have existed. We organised that when I go to France for exchange in mid 2015 that I will visit her. It's going to happen.

Soon after that I met with my other cousin (the girl) and her family. We left her hotel and drove on the Golden Gate Bridge and onwards to Vista Point with the hope that I'd get a good picture with the bridge.  It's actually quite interesting that the Golden Gate Bridge isn't called that for its colour (which everyone seems to think so even though it is a reddish colour) but actually because the strait that it crosses over was called the Golden Gate named by a government official at the time to reflect the prosperities of people from the Far East that would come to San Francisco. Interesting. Anyway, so we reached Vista Point and the fog was absolutely horrific. You could not see a thing except the bars holding the bridge up from the bottom. It was also quite windy and raining heavily so we took some attempt shots and went back in the car.

I was a bit bummed out, but it's fine because I have a photo with Britney. So I'm cool.

We continued on to Fisherman's Wharf, a popular place for tourists in San Francisco. For the first time I had tried clam chowder. Clam chowder is basically this thick, creamy, soup-like dish that has clams, diced potato, vegetables such as onions, and parsley as a garnish and is usually served in a bread bowl. I didn't quite like it, mostly because how thick it was and I didn't like the potato. My niece and nephew got popcorn shrimp and chips. If you have read my previous post from when I was travelling up from Miami to New York (I think it was Day 6 or 7), I had tried popcorn shrimp for the first time and fell in love. I obviously leeched off them.

We continued walking around the wharves and went to Pier 39 where I saw the sea lions again, but I wasn't bummed because today wasn't a day to go adventuring anyway, plus I had pretty much done everything.

My cousin stopped at Safeway and got a gift to bring home for my dad - Robert Mondavi Merlot Red Wine. I think my dad will like it. They then dropped me back at the apartment at about 5pm and we said our final goodbyes for a short and sweet reunion hoping to see each other very soon in the future.

Later that evening and night all I did was nap and "attempt" to pack my bags which didn't really work out so well.

I'm sort of sad to be leaving soon.

Day 35: Monday the 10th of February.

I've officially passed the 5 week mark. That's pretty scary.

Today was my last full day in San Francisco however I wanted to spend it indoors in the apartment packing my bags.

Yeah.. that didn't really happen.

I woke up at 10 vowing myself to do so, and then going out at 2pm to buy some American candy to pack in my bag. Today the weather was actually really good. There was no rain, the sky was clear, and the sun was even out. I got the bus into Union Square at about 2:30 when I made the spontaneous decision on the bus to go to Vista Point in the hope I'd get a better photo with the Golden Gate Bridge seeing as it was a clear day.

Pretty much it was sunny everywhere until I went to the Golden Gate Bridge where the fog was still there. Ugh this was so annoying! Not even that but I was sleeping on the bus and missed my stop and had to go all the way to Suasalito and back. However, I do admit Suasalito is a beautiful neighbourhood right next to the bay which I'd probably compare to Drummoyne, Russel Lea and Five Dock.

I got the bus back to Union Square to do my candy shopping to take home. I went to Urban Outfitters to check out the price of a Herschel Supply Backpack because I really want one and they're cute and it'd look great for university. As I walked in the sales assistant at the door was very attractive. He had a hispanic/mixed look to him. Think as if it was like Mexcian/White/Filipino/Native American. He was gorgeous and he had the most beautiful eyelashes and eyebrows. I looked at his name badge and it said Michael so I assumed he was mixed hispanic. He was wearing the coolest jeans that were really skinny, black, and heavily ripped that I had to ask him where he got them from (honestly, I did like them). He told me he just bought Levi's and ripped them himself. I went downstairs to check out the backpacks and went back up later to check out the clothes. He kept asking me if I needed help and I told him I was fine.

What cologne are you wearing? You smell amazing.

I was wearing Hermes - Terre D'Hermes. Yes of course I smell amazing, it's eau de parfum and $120. No but seriously, at this point I started blushing and his constant looks backwards gave me a hint of something. He was also taller than me, but still short, which was perfect. I left the store and said bye, being too shy to ask him for his number or to hang out because I was leaving the next day.

I went to Walgreens and purchased a big packed of each - Dark Chocolate M&Ms, Dark Chocolate Peanut M&Ms, Hershey's Kisses (with almond), Hershey's Kisses (Cookies and Cream). I'm going to fill up a jar of it and am only allowed to have one kiss a day or 2 M&Ms a day. That's the rule. I went into Abercrombie and Fitch for one last time and decided to try on a pair of really cool acid wash, super skinny, high waisted jeans. High waisted + skinny is the hardest combination to find. Ever. They were womens but I was going to try them. Now normally I'm a 28 waist purely because this is the smallest men's size that is stocked, even though they are loose on me and I have to use a belt.

I fit into a 25 waist.

A size zero in American standards.

Wow. But honestly I'm in love with these jeans but I'm gonna rip them a bit more, they are perfect.

I also tried to go to cheap jewelry stores to try find clear, plastic like ear studs because I needed to hide my ear lobe piercings by the time my dad sees me because he practically forced me to get rid of it but I don't want to close them. I couldn't find anything. I tried every shop. Ugh this wasn't going according to plan because I had lost my old clear ones because they were gross and dirty. My plan now is to keep the earrings in until right before I get out of the airport, which is 9:55 landing but probably around 11:00 when I get out. I'll have nothing in my ears and will tell my dad to take me to the shopping centre where I'll quickly get some in (hopefully before the day ends, well it'll be Thursday night shopping) so it doesn't close. This better work. Oh I also got this really cool hat too that cost me like $42 but its so hot tbh.

So basically 2 hours have passed since I started shopping and I was parched. I went to Starbucks, got a grande iced mocha frappucino and bought a San Francisco mug as a souvenir (it was only $10, and it was something I would actively use). In front of me in the line, whilst I was waiting for my drink was Michael from Urban Outfitters. I didn't want to say something first, so he actually smiled and said "Hey!". Eventually I loosened up and we started talking together at the table whilst I was charging my phone. We spoke about me being on vacation solo for 5-6 weeks, university, Australia, yadda yadda yadda. He was studying Business Management. I love intelligent boys. He then started telling me how he moved a lot in the USA and is staying at university dorms/housing because his family doesn't have a home that is always in one place. He then started moving the conversation to his dorm... Mind you I'm blushing so much at this time. I can't believe firstly that I'm pretty much on a date with this guy I just met like 2 hours ago and we're at Starbucks hitting it off. Let alone... he asked me back to his dorm. He was smart, good looking and a genuinely nice guy. Eventually we reached his dorm where he told me his roommate would be out for the entire night. Was he trying to say what I think he was? We continued to talk for a while, me being the giggly little whore that I am and then..

We did it.

Probably too much information, but he absolutely pumped me but was at the same time so soft and gentle and made sure I wasn't doing something I was uncomfortable with. He was so caring.

Ughhhhh now that I am recounting it. I have actually been the biggest little hoe on this USA adventure. But honestly I don't care, and I am not ashamed. It's not something you have to be ashamed about. See I just went totally bipolar in two sentences, but I'm being honest, this is my thought process. He told me I could stay the night but I told him I had to pack because I was leaving tomorrow morning. I never told him that at Starbucks. He said he was hoping we'd hang out again the next day because he had a morning shift. See, he's not a dickhead. Plus he was great in bed.

I got a cab home purely because it wouldn't cost me that much and I wanted to get rid of all my $1 bills and shitty coins, which I did, smirking to myself the entire ride about how I just scored that little rendezvous with Michael (the second Michael I've hooked up on this trip, wow). Then I had the stark realisation, it was past midnight and I still hadn't packed my bags and I had to fit EVERYTHING in there. Oh great.

I have to sleep early tonight as I have to leave the house at like 10am to get my megabus from San Francisco to LA which takes 8 hours, then get my flight back home.

So this is pretty much my last real post. I will however update before I got on my plane tomorrow night.

Day 33: San Francisco

Saturday the 8th of February.

At this moment in time I am immensely tired. I haven't felt this buzzed out since Vegas.

I woke up at 7am because I had to be at the Caltrain (sort of like Countrylink) train station at 8am. This was pain. I had the worst headache of my life and I was hungover so bad. I took Ibuprofen to calm it down because I was puking and just felt so bad. I had a quick shower to wake me up and left the apartment.

I bought an all day rail pass for $18 which was quite honestly a rip off, but it was $12 either way. Funnily enough I didn't need the return ticket, which I'll get into later. I was on the train which was actually quite comfortable when I realised I didn't bring my earphones. Great, an hour and a half on a train doing absolutely nothing and I was already awake. I tried to sleep on the train but I felt like I was more leaning on the window and closing my eyes than dozing off. I told myself to just listen to my music without the earphones. Yup. My Britney playlist was on and it was starting with Work Bitch. No one really cared so I was glad about that.

I got off the train and met with my cousin (who I actually keep telling everyone is my aunt by accident). She's my eldest cousin and she's more closer to my mum's age than my age. She came to Sydney a couple of times when I was a baby but the last time I had seen her was seven years ago when I last came to the USA. We had met up in Los Angeles and spent about 5 days together doing Disneyland, Hollywood and other things. The last time I saw her in LA I realised she had gotten a bit pudgy since when I was a baby, but man she's really packed it on now! She told me her greatest relationship is with food because it doesn't fight back. Not gonna lie I did laugh but did tell her to make sure she takes care of herself and not to do it overboard. It's predominantly because she cooks a lot of Filipino food which isn't very healthy in my opinion. That's why I'm sort of happy my mum can't cook that food well, and also I don't really like it. Even though she's my cousin, her kids are still my niece and nephew in the Filipino tradition, so it was great to see them, however my nephew is a little bit bratty.

Gladly we dropped them off to their friend's birthday party (they're like 7-10 years old), and went to a shopping outlet malalto do some final shopping before I head back. All I had left to buy was something for my dad who insisted on a wool or wool/nylon jumper with a zipper or buttons and a plain design. He is so picky so I hadn't bought anything yet, especially since most of the stuff I'd seen was cotton. He's an old fashioned fart like that. I bought him a 50% wool jumper from the Burlington Coat Factory which stocks designer names for cheaper, however it was $80. Mmm, maybe my dad did deserve something expensive for once. I also got him a cotton one that looked more casual from Tommy Hilfiger. Lucky him, he gets two. I went to the Nike Store and after a month of not finding running shoes that suit me or that won't be judged my people, I finally found a pair I fell in love with. They're bright yellow with a black Nike tick and a white sole with black specks in it. Perfect mix. Also it'll match my work uniform which has yellow in it. However I am thinking of getting a different job because my uni timetable this semester only really allows me to work Wednesdays during the day and weekends.  Not very practical.

Oh speaking of which I need to do my overload application. I must not forget.

My cousin and her husband bought me a really cute vest from Tommy Hilfiger which I insisted them not to.. I hate when people spend their money on me, it makes me feel really bad. Like yeah ok all I had left on my card was $35, but I just felt horrible. But it's a cute vest. Ok no, retract that,  I'm a bad person.

We had lunch in a fast food restaurant called Jollibee which is as big as Mcdonalds in the Philippines. It really is everywhere you go there from what I remember during my two trips in 2004 and 2006. I had 3 pieces of spicy "chickenjoy" which is pretty much fried chicken, fries and gravy. Oh it was so fucking good. But oh so bad. But I honestly think if I were to eat KFC back home I'd eat more than that, and also counting the fact I didn't have breakfast. Maybe I'm just trying to find excuses for myself to save me from paranoia.

My cousin made the spontaneous decision to spend the night in San Francisco so it would be easy for them to pick me up tomorrow to spend the whole day together. My cousin is like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. For her it's either her way or the no way, and she is very short tempered. She's changed a lot since the last time I came here, and she has even argued with my mum numerous times on the phone (which I actually find so funny). I told her she didn't have to do that, but she insisted she would. So we picked up the kids and drove up to San Francisco.

Her family and I and also my male cousin that I'm staying with in his apartment had dinner in Chinatown which was absolutely delicious, and not so expensive. I told them I'd see them tomorrow and me and my male cousin (whose id I was using to get into clubs) thought we'd try go out clubbing. At this moment it is raining horribly and being a nuisance.

I don't want to write the names of the clubs but they were VERY big clubs in San Francisco.

The first club we went to was a ticketed event to two very big international DJs. Imagine trying to get into Pacha or Marquee with the same id. Freaky. We learnt that it was a tickets only event (wtf? We were willing to pay 100 for door tickets just like how Pacha or Marquee marks up their prices at the door). We moved onto the next club which is another big club in San Francisco. I was at the front of the line talking to the guard.

Guard: What's your D.O.B?

Me: (gives correct D.O.B)

Guard: (looks me up and down) Why does it say you're 5 foot 10?

Me: Dude I'm from Texas.

Yeah ok I'm really 5 foot 5 or 6 but I wasn't gonna say that? I had to think of something stupid.

Guard: Just wait on the side. (calls on his radio mic for someone)

I'm waiting on the side for five minutes absolutely scared to death he was going to call the police or he was going to call another guard to bash me or just make fun of me in front of everyone.

Me: Dude, if I can't get in, I'll just take my money somewhere else.

I think that's what sold it. Also I was wearing really good clothes (like I always do when I go clubbing, I tend to overdress, unless of course I'm being a trashbag slut at Oxford Street). At this point another guard came.

Guard 2: It's cash only. (waves me in)

Fuck yes. Oh wait, no. It's cash only. I only had card. And it wasn't my travel money card, it was my savings card from back home (which works when using the savings/credit machines in places such as restaurants or cafe's or at cashier desks but I had never tried it in an ATM). Oh fuck, the ATM near the cashier wasn't taking my card. The cashier dude took my id and told me to try the ATM inside and come back, using my card as security. I tried using the ATM inside, and at the same time, surveyed the area and dancefloor. It was full of people but the music was so not my type and not pumpy at all. We wanted an EDM and house night. Not this slow shit. I told him my card wasn't working and I was going to use one in the bank but I just used it as an escape regime to tell my cousin this "upscale" San Francisco nightclub wasn't worth the $20. I only had contact on Facebook because my phone ran out of credit. He was about to pay the $20 when he left the line (after making it past the security guard, wtf?) and said he had to take a call.

We ventured on to a gay bar around the corner (yes I came out to my cousin and I actually brought him to a gay bar, wow). The security guard was at the front and I literally just walked straight past him, he didn't even check me. He looked me up and down, obviously knowing I was a massive faggot with a good sense of style possibly synonymous with rich preppy boy with loads of cash willing to take more loads in the night. Oh great. Another place that had people in it, but the music was so shit. Why was it that every place I got in, the music was really bad?

We decided to try the Castro district which was the gay district. My cousin got a cab and dropped me there before the cab continued on to the apartment, he was really tired. I tried the 2nd biggest gay club/bar in San Francisco and got rejected for not having other forms of id to support mine. Ok, I tried the club I got into on Friday, which was the biggest gay bar in San Francisco. Oh shit, it's a new guard. He was really rude and asked me the same thing and told me "this is not your id, go away". So pretty much these guards KNOW that I am using someone else's id, they just want me to have another form of id to back them up in the rare and very unlikely circumstance cops raid the club and check everyone's id. That's so stupid.

I called my cousin to pick me up saying I wasn't going to push my luck anymore, and having an amazing night yesterday was good enough for San Francisco nightlife. On the way to the car I stopped by a bakery which sold cookies, brownies... and penis "cookies". They were more like coconut macaroon cake topped with chocolate, cut in the mould of a penis (with various shapes and sizes), testicles with coconut shavings on top.

Me: Can I have a dick please?

Group of gay guys behind me: (One saying) You can have mine.

Me: (turns around and does a slutty smile)

Yeah he was hot.

Shopkeeper: Which dick would you prefer?

Me: Any.

Shopkeeper: They're all different c'mon I know you bottoms are selective!

Me: Ok I'll have the back one.

Shopkeeper: I was right. You can't have a dick without cum! (Nozzles whipped cream on the top).

Oh this was interesting. I went back to the car and showed my cousin who just shook his head and laughed and showed his girlfriend via message my new dessert. I still haven't finished it, half of it is in the fridge, it is so rich. Normally I can finish the d.. I guess not tonight.

After that me and my cousin just talked for a while and I went to bed.

I think the thing that I hate the most is the weather here, it's ruining my plans and sightseeing and it's such an inconvenience and I am getting drenched. I still can't believe I've been in San Francisco for nearly a week. That's crazy. Time flies.

Oh yeah and I have $10 on my travel card and not even sure if my savings card is going to work. But luckily enough all I have left to buy is American chocolate to take home and some clear earring studs to change before I get on the plane.

Day 32: San Francisco

Friday the 8th of February.

Man, this weather officially sucks major black ghetto balls.

We had a boat tour cruise leaving Pier 33, closeby to Fisherman's Wharf, towards Alcatraz Island at 10am. I met with Joyce and Linda at the hotel and we made our way, actually on time by 30 minutes. This was predominantly because I had found the bus stop before meeting them because if we were late it would be a total inconvenience for the rest of the day.

It was very cold once we got off the ferry which gave us picturesque views of the Bay area and the Golden Gate Bridge. We arrived in Alcatraz Island, a closed down old prison which was home to well known (and Hollywood portrayed) criminals such as Al Capone and Machine Gun Kelly. Personally, Scarface is one of my favourite movies of all time, not only because Al Pacino is such an amazing actor, but also the direction and plot was captivating. The prison itself reminded me a lot of the movie Shutter Island with Leonardo Dicaprio. Basically you had these miniscule cells, most consisting of simply a "chair" which was pretty much an elevated piece of metal and a "table" which was yet another elevated piece of metal, and a toilet. No bed. No blanket. No window. It would've been torture to live there, but not so much physical torture, moreso of a psychological torture.  We walked into the kitchen area and into the isolation area which was quite macabre to view. You would have total darkness for lengths as long as a month even. It would've been pain. We attended a talk about escapes with many people attempting to escape and actually some succeeding to get out of the building by organising escape plans for as long as 10 years consisting of a shaving razor or stealing socks or items of clothing yet everyone would pretty much die when they reached the stark waters of San Francisco bay. There were a few however that did apparently make it out, or so we think so.

We left the island at about 12:30 reaching San Francisco at like 1 with the two girls saying they were hungry and were craving Domino's Pizza. To be quite honest, I wasn't so hungry but meh. We found one near their hostel and I got a small sized pepperoni and jalapenos. Yum. I ate half of it and gave the other half to my cousin's roommate.

I got home at about 3:30 having a nap till about 5, itching to go out tonight. I didn't eat dinner and made sure I was able to sustain a good night out. The sunset here is so early that 10pm will feel like 5am. I ended up going out to the gay district, the Castro district, which was not that far from where I was staying with my cousin. I ended up telling my cousin that I was gay purely because I knew he wouldn't judge me, I mean c'mon, he is living in San Francisco and is rebelling against the passionate religious ideals of his parents. I told him not to tell anyone in the family, especially my brother, but he said he was fine with it, which I knew was going to happen anyway. I pretty much just wanted to tell him to let him know that I'll be safe out by myself. So that was one obstacle down, and the next was getting in with his ID. I was in the line to the gay bar/club with the most Google and Yelp reviews (whose name I don't want to mention purely for security reasons). I was anxious. I asked the 2 guys behind me, to act as if we were all together and they agreed. So I'm at the front of the line with my cousin's old Texas ID which has a hole in it to say that it was "invalid", not so that it was expired but because he had moved state.

Guard: Why is there a hole in your ID?

Me (in a faux Southern accent): Oh the San Francisco DMV did that because I moved from Texas.

Guard: Ok go in.

Yes. Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes. Yay. I was ecstatic. I thanked the guys I was with (honestly it probably wouldn't have worked without them). Vodka red bull, my favourite. Vodka red bulls are so washed down with red bull back home but here they are lethal. It's like half a big red cup of vodka mixed with red bull. I was gone. We were having fun on the dancefloor checking out cute guys, but the music was not so great. It reminded me a lot of when I went to club G-A-Y in London. However, of course when Work Bitch came on I lost my shit. That song will forever be my fucking jam. Clubs are so weird here. They close at 2am. Talk about a lockout right? Some stay open till 4 and there's even "after hours" clubs but they stop serving alcohol at 2am so people don't really go there, apparently only to do cocaine and acid. Great. So us 3 left the club at 2am and they alerted me that there was a "French college house party" 2 blocks down that they had crashed about a month ago and no one realised. We did it...and no one realised. The amount of free alcohol there was immense, so I just got totally sloshed, naturally. You only really know you had a totally wasted night out when you relook at the selfies you took on your phone and don't even remember them. Like I have tons of photos of me with Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream. What the hell? The only thing I do remember though is that things got a bit heated at about 4am because I was eating Honey and Lavender (odd flavour tbh) out of the container with my teeth and mouth and not a spoon and some guy got really offended and I realised it was time to go. The 2 guys were nice enough to drop me back to my place which was very nice of them and I went to bed ready to wake up 3 hours later for a morning train to San Jose to visit my eldest cousin.

All in all, a very good night and I didn't even have to hook up with anyone and I didn't feel bad about it. Good boy.

Day 31 - San Francisco

Thursday the 7th of February.

I've officially passed the month milestone. I'm sitting The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf sipping on a medium sized Cafe Vanilla Latte and dipping my Lemon Biscotti Cookies. Good choice.

Yesterday was a very shitty day in regards to weather. It started raining, not profusely, but nevertheless it was annoying. The weather here reminds me so much of Sydney's weather. Not THAT cold when you think about it, but quite annoying if it makes sense. However, the atmosphere of the entire San Francisco reminds me so much of Melbourne. Everything is spread out, it's young and hip but still has it's history and has great cafes and restaurants.

We went to Golden State Park which honestly was such a disappointment that I'm rating that shit down on TripAdvisor. It was so shit. And also, it was quite dangerous as well. We were supposed to go to good tourist spots to take good photos with the Golden Gate Bridge but the rain and fog would mean we would be taking a huge risk. We saved it for another day. I was a bit sad at this point as that means I would have to do things with Joyce and Linda that I'd already done, but the weather was too inconvenient.

We went back to Union Square and the girls did some shopping, including Linda purchasing a Babyliss Pro Hairdryer. I really wanted one so bad. For lunch I had a wonton soup which I specifically asked with no noodles because I only wanted a shit load of soup water and some wontons. She gave me the noodles and a shitload of veggies and like one wonton. Ugh.  It cost me $9 too, I shouldn't have even ordered it. Today I'm not eating anything tbh.

It was 4:00 and I had to be back at their hostel at 6:00, which means it'd take 30 minutes by bus to my place (4:30), get ready in an hour and get the bus (5:30). Yeah no. The public transport system here is so fucked. I ended up in a really bad and unsafe part of town which Google Maps said I was to get my bus. I checked the route map when I got home. The fucking bus doesn't even stop there. Ugh. I was mad. I had missed two buses and the next ones were in 39 minutes and 42 minutes. Fuck you Muni transport network! I guess that's another thing they have similar to Melbourne - a shitty transport network. I ended up having to pay for a subway because I knew that route rather than a bus.

I reached the apartment at 5:10, I didn't have enough time to get ready so I just charged my phone for 15 minutes and left. Ugh. What a waste of time.

I met them at the hostel at 6:00 and we went to another NBA game - Chicago Bulls vs. Golden State Warriors (the home team). I love watching these games but I was so angry and flustered that I didn't enjoy it as much as the Lakers game. Additionally, we were going for the Bulls which was the Away team so we felt a bit betrayed, but by the end of the much I didn't mind who won, it was still entertaining. Also, Stephen Curry absolutely KILLED that game. Wow, what, am I turning into an NBA geek?! Oh and at the game we had the Southern style version of "fish and chips" which was catfish and fries. It was so oily and salty I wanted to vom and actually took 2 laxatives just to get it out of my system. It's the next morning and I am STILL bloated. Ew, I don't want to look fat.

The game finished at about 10:30 and I reached the apartment at 11:30 contemplating whilst sitting on the toilet whether or not I should go out clubbing. I ended up choosing not to because I had an early start tomorrow instead opting to stay up to 2am (sarcastic). Why do I do this?! Oh well at least I smell good and it was 2am. Yay.

Oh furthermore, it sucks that my phone plan has ran out and it's so hard getting around without me having data or Google Maps. It just shows how much people rely on me. I was in a bit of a mood yesterday and posted a shitty FB status but I honestly don't mean it. If you know me well, I'm a moody person. I do enjoy this place but one little thing here fucks everything up and you just feel so bad about yourself.

Let's hope today is better.

Day 30 - San Francisco

Wednesday the 5th of February.

Today was a pretty chilled out day. Not much I can write about this day because I spent most of it gallivanting around the city.

After a brownie at Peets Coffee and Tea (if you remember from yesterday's post) I ventured towards Lombard Street. Lombard Street is the world's most crooked and curviest street. It is also mid route to the top of a hill so walking up to reach it wasn't very pleasant. Everything is so hilly in San Francisco, it's like walking the treadmill on such a heavy incline that your calves and ankles begin to buckle. In my opinion, what was rated so highly on TripAdvisor was just a street. I got the Cable Car for 30 minutes to get to it which was an "attraction" in itself though. San Francisco is one of the few cities in the world that still uses this old form of transport, and it's understandable why. It's not very practical especially in such a hilly city.

This leads me to my next point - Asian tourists. It's not a race thing trust me but.. I guess it is. Some girl got mad at me for walking through her shot. She was taking a photo of a stop sign. Literally. Honey that isn't going to get 500 likes on Instagram. Oh and they take so long to bloody take a photo with something in the background. Ugh.

I left the street and started walking towards the ocean. I walked alongside the wharves including Fisherman's Wharf and Pier 39. It was no Circular Quay but it was something to fill the day. The street adjacent was laden with fast food restaurants such as Jack In The Box and In N Out and also candy stores which would charge $16 AUD per pound.

I went to Pier 39 and saw the seals which stink like shit but it was great to see so many congregated in the water.

I went back home and met up with my cousin for dinner at a local sushi joint in the Mission District. I was craving something spicy so we got three rolls to share - Ultimate Spicy Tuna Roll, Blazing Salmon Roll and Rainbow Roll. My favourites are in that order and rightly so. I was still hungry but I made sure I saved room for later.

I met up with Joyce and her new found friend Linda at their hostel. We had Chipotle Mexican Grill and called it a quiet night because it was Wednesday and 10:30PM.

Linda and I, however went out to test my ID.

It worked.

At one of the biggest clubs in San Fran.

It was dead though.
But this means I'm going to try again. I just wish they'd spend a bit more money on club entry. Like there's major DJs playing near their hostel for $25 but they think that's expensive.

Oh well.

I went home and went straight to bed unsure of the day tomorrow.

Yeah so not that adventurous.

Day 24 - Day 29: Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Phoenix, San Francisco

Wow. So the last post I wrote was on Wednesday the 29th of January. From now on I'm going to date my posts because I'm getting so confused with the Day "23" thing and the actual date.

I sincerely apologise for not having updated a lot lately. I have had limited internet and don't really like typing on my phone, my fingers start to hurt after a while. Additionally, I haven't had much time at all. You may not know this about me but I'm a very last minute person, which you'll learn about in this post.  My days and nights have been jampacked and absolutely crazy. I've had minimal sleep over the past 5 or 6 days.

I'm doing the typical San Francisco experience at the moment. I'm sitting in a cafe called Peet's Coffee and Tea/Specialty Bakery in Union Square seated with my laptop whilst drinking my medium (it actually is more like a large back home) extra shot cappuccino and my choc/walnut brownie. It's what they call a "day old". I just really wanted a brownie that I'd even eat the one from yesterday. That's how desperate I am for one. It was, let's say, edible to say the least. But I don't really mind because she gave it to me for a dollar.

So this post is going to be an update for the following:

• Day 24 (30/1/14) - Los Angeles


• Day 25 (31/1/14) - Las Vegas


• Day 26 (1/2/14) - Las Vegas


• Day 27 (2/2/14) - Las Vegas


• Day 28 (3/2/14) - Phoenix


• Day 29 (4/2/14) - San Francisco.

So obviously it's going to be quite long, also because I'm quite bored at the moment and don't want to do anything heavy today.

At this present moment, I'm writing this on Wednesday 5/2/14 but I haven't done anything yet, so I'll write that either later in the day or tomorrow.

Day 24 - Los Angeles

So it's Thursday. Basically there is something I've been doing which I don't want to be publicising on the internet, but pretty much it involves me being underage and wanting to go clubbing and paying someone for something I do not have.

Basically now that it's been like a week since that. I got scammed. But not just that I got scammed. I honestly don't care that I lost $75. I care more that this person has photocopies of my drivers license, uni id, and (not my passport) but my Brazilian visa. I'm really worried. In my heart I hope he's a decent person who doesn't do anything truly fradulent. I just really want him to just use the $75 to fulfill his substance abuse. I don't really care. But yeah, it's not pissing me off so much anymore, but at that moment in time I was furious. This person didn't meet us at the location at the given time. I was leaving the next day for Vegas. This was fucking annoying. To this day I'm still texting him pretending I'm still in LA and he keeps saying he's not "fucked up" and he's not a "Bad person", just that it's "not ready". Go fuck yourself mate. You're fucking fucked in the head. I know swearing makes me look so unintelligent but honestly, I'm furious. Ok now I'm mad again just thinking about his fucked up little head and his malnourished body quite clearly affected by his profuse drug abuse. Ugh. I just have so many more things to do. I have to still call my bank (even though I didn't give credit card details) just to make sure they keep a watch of my credit history, and also I need to call my travel insurance to ask for advice. Really I need to be going to the police but I'm not sure if that's going to be any help, and fabricating a story is hard for me, I'm not a good liar. I think I'll get advice from my travel insurance first and then ask them.

Besides that I did nothing else that day. I didn't even go clubbing that night. I felt so sick in my stomach and I was hysterically crying that day. I felt shit about myself and everything I did. It wasn't worth it, but at the time I thought it was, and he looked reliable.  I packed my bags ready to leave this fucking bullshit godforsaken city called "Los Angeles" never seeking to return. I really do hate this city, and not just because of what happened to me. There was nothing to do, people were annoying and irritating as hell, the atmosphere was dirty and cheap, and then on top of that, all the crap things that happened to me.

Los Angeles, I will never return. Even if I become famous, I'm going to be NY based.

Day 25 - Las Vegas

I started the day hoping that today would be better. I was finally leaving the city.

We ended up recruiting a German guy called Frank from my room to go with us to Las Vegas. We organised to meet in the kitchen at 6:45 AM. Frank didn't wake me up till 6:42 AM and I still hadn't packed my bags. Are you fucking serious Frank?

We left the hostel at 7:15. We were really pushing it. Our bus was leaving at 7:50 from Union Station. My heart never beat so fast because I knew that Joyce (who was in the kitchen at like 6:30) was going to kill us.

We ended up making it at 7:45 and got on the bus. We arrived in Las Vegas 5 hours later.

We walked to our hotel, The Mirage, and got ready for a day adventuring around the city. We walked aimlessly around the city and ate a slice of pizza as a "snack" because we hadn't eaten anything for breakfast or on the bus. We saw the display shows of the hotels The Mirage Volcano show and The Bellagio's fountain show. I loved the Bellagio's one. It was pristine and was set to beautiful Italian opera music. I love opera, ever since I watched one at Sydney Opera House. Yes I'm a nerd like that.

We had dinner in a beautiful Italian restaurant in the restaurant The Venetian. I had a lobster and shrimp ravioli dish which was one of the most amazing things I've ever had in my life. I had never tried lobster before so it was great to try new things.

At night I went in the casino with $40 in electric roulette trying hard to not get caught. I had came out with $65, a $25 profit. I used $5 on the slot machines (again trying to not get caught). I lost that. But hey I made a $20 profit?

Las Vegas was great and refreshing than LA, it was definitely something we needed to do. At night me and Joyce slept together and watched The Kardashians whilst Frank and Reece were just mocking us for watching that show.

Day 26 - Las Vegas

It was the day.

The day I was meeting my queen.

Britney.

Jean.

Spears.

Britney Spears.

BRITNEY. SPEARS.

Do you comprehend that?! Everything my trip revolved around. It was finally the climax.

I will make a separate post all about my Britney experience, but here's what happened during the day.

Everyone in the hotel room knew I was going to Britney tonight so I told them to do their own thing and so would I. They all went to the Grand Canyon (Because I also was doing that alone the next day, Sunday). Joyce said it was so shit at first, snowing and foggy and you couldn't see anything and the boys were being dickheads. But the day got better and more clearer, but the boys were being dickheads to her and she was crying and she really missed me. Aww. I feel special.

I woke up at 9, telling myself I needed to have an early day doing the rest of Vegas before the show. I wanted to be in the hotel room by 2:30 to have a 1 hour nap and get ready so I'm re-energised for Brit Brit.

I went shopping to the outlets and at Fashion Show. Pretty much this is what I bought:

- 2 Calvin Klein designer tees

- the MOST PERFECT French Connection knitted wool jumper (marked down from $300)

- a cap from Urban Outfitters and some accessories

- BareMinerals makeup for myself and my family friend

- Abercrombie and Fitch cologne

- I'm pretty sure there was more but I forgot now..

I reached the hotel at 3:30.

Fuck.

I needed to charge my phone, get ready, choose my outfit, choose my perfume, shower, brush my teeth, all that jazz.

I had to meet my aunt at Planet Hollywood at 5.

I was having a shower and housekeeping knocked (I obviously didn't hear them) and she walked in and I was naked. I mean cmon gurl!

I ended up making it in time to meet my aunt and we ate some sushi and then I went to meet Britney.

After I met Britney, I came back to the hotel watched Kardashians, packed my bags and by the time I went to bed it was 2:30am. I had a flight at 7:30, which means I had to be at the airport at 6. Which means I had to wake up at 5. Thank God I did.

The stuff about Britney and the cute guy will be filled in a separate post.

Day 27 - Las Vegas

I'm still counting this as Vegas even though it's technically Phoenix, because you could do this from Vegas.

My aunt and I reached Phoenix at 10:30. Drove back to her home, dumped my bags it was 11:00 and we immediately drove to the Grand Canyon.

About 3 hours later and a long nap in the car, it was snowing and it was WHITE.

The Grand Canyon was like half reddy, yellow, orangey hues and then you had the other half which was white. It was truly beautiful. I think it's amazing how things we have on this Earth are just vast and wide and just so intricate. The little ridges and the colours are so carefully thought out that it gives me the idea that maybe there is someone out there who gives us these gifts. How can things just happen like that? Yes I guess there's science, but I see everything as a gift to ourselves. Not necessarily a gift from "God" or a supreme other, but more a gift which we must appreciate. I loved the Grand Canyon so much. I went under the fence and sat on the edge of a cliff with my legs and feet dangling whilst my bum was getting wet from the snow underneath. What if I were to slip? It's so funny how you can literally just jump off and end your life.

We went back to Phoenix and ate dinner in an amazing Chinese restaurant called PF Changs, we had spicy Tuna roll sushi, crispy green beans, chicken lettuce wraps, and pepper steak. It was so good, and we boxed it up and I ate it for breakfast the next day.

Day 28 - Phoenix

I had a well deserved sleep in. The past 2 or 3 days had been incredibly hectic and my body was taking it's toll. I slept for 12 hours.

My aunt came back from work and I spent time with my aunt and her husband watching random re runs of cheesy American tv, and then I packed my bags yet again. How quick was that?!

I met up with my cousin (her son) at his work - Steak and Shake. They basically have burgers, steaks and milkshakes. I had a cookie dough milkshake which was one of the most amazing things I've ever had in my life. It was so thick and gluggy and just ugh. Yum. Get in my mouth.

After that us 3 went together to try something called "soul food". It's basically really black southern food. We had fried chicken..with waffles. I put my spoon in what I thought was ice cream on top of the waffle. Oops. It was butter.

THAT MUCH BUTTER?!

Wow.

But it was a weird combination but it tasted fucking amazing and I love fried chicken here it's so oily and greasy and crunchy. I hate that I love chicken skin, it's got so much cholesterol but oh well I'm on "vacation" and I can burn it off when I get back home.

I got my flight to San Francisco and arrived at night where my other cousin (his brother, and her other son) picked me up and I went to bed ready for a big day the next day.

Day 29 - San Francisco

I wasn't sure what I was doing today but pretty much I woke up at like 10am and sorted it out.

I didn't eat breakfast, instead choosing to go to Chinatown in the hope I'd find some nice little Chinese bakeries or takeaway yumcha like we have in our Chinatown back home. I found a bakery called Gong Kok or something like that and it has 5 stars on Yelp. So it must be good right? I'm using Yelp every second here, it's so good to know where you eat and how other people rate it. You could have 3 "dim sum" for $1.90 (plus tax) so basically $2. I got 2 shrimp siao mai, 2 pork siao mai, and 2 pork buns. The pork buns are different than Australia and they're fucking shit. But the siao mai was amazing. I went back for more, I was so hungry and hey it wasn't expensive, so I got some dumplings. Now I was full. Turns out that was to be my breakfast, lunch and dinner. Well I did have an iced caramel macchiato at Starbucks whilst charging my phone. So let's just say breakfast and lunch? And then the Starbucks was my dinner.

I walked from Chinatown to Union Square and did some more shopping. Yay.

I bought myself more makeup from Sephora, and I bought Chelsea her Urban Decay Naked 3 Palette. Chelsea's been such a good friend to me and I don't appreciate her enough, so I decided to get her 2 Sephora lipsticks for $25. And they're the perfect shade too. It won't make her look too pale. I hate when girls where the wrong shade of lipstick and it washes out their skin tone. Plus if she doesn't want to see it as a gift at least it's me giving her makeup advice? Haha.

The 2 gay guys at Sephora kept trying to help me and I let them help me when I was asking which brands were better etc, even though I wasn't that interested in the makeup, I was more interested in them. One of them would follow me around and kept checking me out because to them I was a little virgin Mexican cholo! But they were hot though and I like attention. I'm an attention whore. At least I like to admit it!

After that I ventured around buying myself olive chinos from H&M and a protein smoothie and bottle of water from Walgreens.

I went to 7/11 asking if they sold public transport tickets, they didn't. Now I was at the front of the line, I had to buy something.

I bought cigarettes.

Ugh, I was lasting so long! But honestly I only smoke when I'm really cold, or in social environments, or when I'm nervous. It's a bad habit but honestly I'll only have like 1 a week. So it's not that bad. Plus it was only $5?

I bought a weekly public transport bus (which I just found out today DOESNT  work on the subway), ugh I just wasted $29, which is like $4 a day. I'm not gonna spend that much anyway. Fuck. I was mad.

I went to Macy's enquiring about the Nicki Minaj fragrances. I needed to expand my collection with ones they didn't have back home. They had Minajesty and the Limited Edition Pink Friday with black hair. They were both $65 each though and they didn't stock the smaller size. Ugh.

I walked all the way from Union Square to the Palace of Fine Arts which was about an hour and a half walk, waiting for the sun to go down so I could see the Palace glow. By the time I was there and the Palace was beautiful. It looked like something in Rome or Greece, it was something that looked totally ancient in a city so modernised and innovative, and you had this beautiful archaic-like structure over a glistening lake. I walked around and through it and it was just great to be able to do that by myself. It was therapeutic.

I got back home and found out that Joyce is coming up to San Francisco. Yes. I'm so excited to see her. I really do love her so much. Mum hasn't contacted me lately because she's in the Philippines so I have no way of contacting my dad. Whoops. Hahaha. Oh well.

Ok so I've finally updated. Wow.

Ok if you read all that I'm patting you on the back!

To the people I still have in my life that are interested in me and my blog, it truly does mean so much to me. I love you guys so much. There's even people reading this that I never would've imagined I'd be close to or even thought cared so much about me, and it's just so great to have our friendship illuminated by this. I truly love you guys.