"Anxiety attack. No beach today-"

...is what I texted Stella mid-morning.
 
Rather than go through with some big awesome plans I had for an all day beach hike in Manly, I got side barred by an unexpected anxiety attack brought upon by the realization that I still have no place to live when I get to NYC in less than 3 weeks. That slightly stressful thought broke the seal to all other stressful thoughts that have ever existed and it was downhill from there. When the thought of a nature hike makes you anxious it's time to stay home- so I did.

(Years ago, my step-mom introduced me to the concept, "Where ever you go, there you are." The idea annoyed me then at 21, so you can imagine how I feel about it now.)

The relief I felt at staying home was so great, I began to reevaluate how I was "enjoying" my vacation. I had been adamant with myself about making this a "working vacation", meaning I would spend half the day writing and have the other half off to explore Sydney, be a tourist, whatever, etc. What I was finding, however, was vacationing was starting to feel like work, too. The pressure to see and do was outweighing the desire to see and do, especially since I've become so hyper-aware of how much time I have here before I leave for Melbourne, how much time I have in Melbourne, and how much time I have in Sydney once I'm back from Melbourne.

It's too much thinking. I'm done thinking. (I'm gonna try to be done. For little moments here and there I can definitely try to be done... Okay, I'll try to try.)

After my writing was done for the day, I took the opportunity to pay another visit to The Wolverine set and watch Jim work. (Swoon, movie-making, swoon...) I got the added bonus of getting to chat with Hugh Jackman once again and realizing he's not only the nicest actor I've ever met, but likely one of the nicest people ever to walk the earth. Ever. (He offered me his home in Melbourne for my trip! Then he remembered it was occupied, but MY GOD. I'd only known him a collective 10 minutes. Nice, nice, nice, nice, nice... I love him. )

The rest of my visit to set can be summed up in a few simple pictures...

 

"Only the crap ones had their shirts off..."

...said one of the girls on set to explain why she hadn't joined us to watch the crew guys play lunch-rugby. But I'll back up...

Today I righted yesterdays wrongs by waking up early, kickboxing and getting all my days writing done by lunchtime. Stella arranged to have a driver come pick me up at home to bring me to set for lunch (free! catering! yay!).

Any of my friends who have visited me on set will agree- I hate set visits in general. How do they know? Because I complain about it loudly and constantly. Taking care of a set visitor is the worst thing ever. Second worse is being the visitor- Its like going to your dad's job and sitting in the corner. I never visit anyone else's set unless I have a bunch of friends on the crew and it coincides with lunch because, honestly, there is just nothing to do at someone else's job.

I got to Stella's set (or as its known on IMDB, "The Wolverine") a little more than an hour before lunch. Of course, everyone was busy working. I chatted about horror movies with my new best friend Hugh Jackman (nbd) and watched them shoot til lunch. I have to admit, though I've been off and on sets for the last 12 years, I've rarely had the opportunity to just watch and listen to the director direct, and damn- it was cool.
It was better than cool.

It's easy to get jaded or bored or both about moviemaking (or life...?) if you're not doing what you want to be doing in them. If you don't have a passion for the role you play, it becomes like any other job you do to pay the bills- something you tolerate at its best and dread at its worst.

This set visit was supposed to be the highlight of my day because of the free hot lunch and Stella of it all. I wasn't in the least prepared to have my passion for moviemaking reignited by Jim Mangold or "The Wolverine" of all things, but... that's what happened. These last few years of details, minutia and coffee dissolved and I felt new again. I feel new again...

 lovvvvvve this...
at Fox Studios, a little hint of Baz

i...

love...

I was actually disappointed to break for lunch (that's when you know it's serious), but break we did. After eating like a lumberjack, I followed Stella and Jen to the field to watch the boys play rugby for the rest of the lunch break. I love boys. I love boys playing sports. I love boys playing sports with their shirts off. It was a good afternoon.

rugby.

I decided to hit the Sydney Opera House on my way home (NOT anywhere near on my way home as it turns out) because I'd taken the last couple days off from sightseeing, and was starting to stress. Why stress? All dumb reasons, the main of which being my name is Bianca and that's what I do.

Bus shenanigans to the tune of right bus, wrong direction, right direction, wrong bus landed me still in the general area and I found my way to the Opera House. NOT before I bought and ate another candy bar straight out of the wrapper like a Garbage Pail Kid.

"a unique combination of peanuts,
wafer, caramel & rice crips
covered in milk chocolate"

I have this thing about how I eat a candy bar - its my thing and probably no one else's. I hate eating candy bars straight out of the wrapper like they want you to. Commercials with kids taking a huge smiley bite off the end of a partially wrapped candy bar screams white trash to me. Still, that is what I did today. And I grossed myself out.

"Then why did you do it, you weirdo?" the world asks. Self-sabotage is the best answer I can come up with- that, and the candy bar was unruly enough as I walked that I couldn't dismember it with my germ-covered hands like I like to.

Sydney Opera House is party central

Anyway, I'd heard raves and gushing about Sydney Opera House from every book I've seen, website I've visited, etc, etc. To say my expectations were high was putting it mildly. The Opera House was definitely impressive, but I think the scene surrounding it was more of the charm than I'd anticipated. I hit the Opera House for sunset and there were throngs of people there for after-work/pre-dinner drinks. Though the Opera House is definitely a city highlight, I could see by the crowd that it wasn't just for tourists. I love when locals appreciate a city gem as much as the guide books want the tourists to.

i bet they have the machine from 'Big' here

Another highlight? A cool, creeeeeeepy looking amusement park at the far end of the Sydney Harbour Bridge across the water. I will find it, and I will go there. (I think it's Luna Park after doing a bit of research.)

I saw a sign for the Royal Botanical Gardens and decided to check them out, even though it was officially dark at this point. I learned a garden at night is less impressive than a garden during the day.

Maybe its because I was on set today or maybe I was inspired by Sydney's dark cinematic qualities, but the wind was blowing my hair just right and the streets had the perfect lighting for me to go noir and play "THEY'RE RIGHT BEHIND YOU" all the way home. I made the 20 minute walk back to Stella's in heart-thumping 15 minutes. God, I love that game.



Sydney Harbour Bridge  (see the amusement park??)



Sydney Opera House close up



man do i appreciate a great bathroom
(Syndey Opera House)

Sydney Cove and Circular Quay

 

"Ten-seventy, please"...

...said the only person who talked to me today.

Today was a wretch of a day brought about by my inability to get off the computer last night and go to bed, whereby I still woke up too early, whereby I let myself take a mid-morning nap, whereby I slept til past noon and screwed my entire day.

Like all babies, I need a proper schedule to be happy and productive. If the baby gets off her schedule the whole world suffers. As it turns out, I'm with no one but myself so I'm limited in who I can torture.

I spent all afternoon in my pajamas eating my way through everything in the apartment as I willed myself to write something, anything, before dusk when I was planning on finally getting outside to watch the sunset somewhere. Obviously, I kicked into gear the last hour and couldn't stop writing once the sun began to set. I got to a stopping point, threw on some clothes and ran outside to the nearest view-type place which happened to be Darling Harbour a quick 3 blocks away.

As close as it is, I hadn't been to the Harbour yet because everything I've done has been in the other direction. I was excited to go because in the Harbour sits Cockle Bay and I like the the name (tee hee).

When I got to the Darling Harbour I was impressed by the size but nothing else. It's the exact kind of cookie cutter touristy stuff I hate, all Hard Rock and Madame Toussaud's. I raced the sunset as I walked along the wharf trying to find something to take pictures of that might inspire me, but no luck. I started to get fussy.

As night fell, the light got better and I got a couple decent pictures but of nothing I cared about. I wandered around a bit longer, getting increasingly crabby, when I realized that if I didn't get chocolate soon I might have a nervous breakdown. And then it dawned on me: PMS. Awesome!

I don't know if every other chick is like this, but I'm always surprised by PMS. Pleasently surprised actually, because then I know I have a reason for feeling unsatisfied and insatiable (as opposed to the rest of the time I feel like this for no discernable reason beyond not being loved enough as a child - kidding Mom & Dad!!) and that reason is finite. Any PMSiness lasts until I eat chocolate and then I swear to God, I'm cured.

I decide to hit the grocery before I head home (to presumably work out. I had the best of intentions.) because there was a chocolate bar I'd been eying like teenager with a crush. But then I saw this:

Princess Coco Chocolaterie

That brown stuff pouring itself from glass funnel to beautiful glass funnel is chocolate! That is straight up Willy Wonka magic. I said goodbye to my workout and got a cup of warm liquid chocolate. WARM. LIQUID. CHOCOLATE. It was like someone melted a dream and put it in a cup for me. This was Demon Sauce.

I drank like a sailor on leave. I drank like it was mother's milk. I drank like I was drinking life itself. And when I got halfway done with my cup and started to feel sick, I kept drinking because I had to.



"chewy caramel fudge, crunchy balls
& loads of chocolate" INDEED

I still stopped by the grocery and got my chocolate bar because I had to. Now that I'm back home, chocolatathon behind me and eating kim chi of all things for dinner, I'm realizing there is a very decent chance I'll throw up later, but its all good. Because I'm satisfied and sated.

Thank you, Demon Sauce.

a cute dad tries to throw his toddler into Darling Harbour



those numbers mean something probably

Wolverine!
my soon new-to-be best friend

 

because this deserves another look
i mentioned the brown stuff was CHOCOLATE, right??!?!?

"Oops, I did it again..."

...said Britney Spears a long time ago, when I'm not actually sure she'd done it yet.

But I'm doing it again-- merging blogs.

Basically, I know "Bianca Does Stuff on Location" is a really shitty title and "Demon Sauce" is my most favorite title of anything ever, so I've absorbed my travel blog into my demon blog and I'll navigate the identity crisis as I keep posting.

PS- I decided to further confuse things by incorporating ALL my travel blogs (okay, all two of them) into Demon Sauce as well. They were aptly titled, "Bianca Does Stuff in Costa Rica" and "Bianca and Stella Do Stuff in Buenos Aires." They're a good time.

PPS- the "again" of "did it again" refers to a personal blog I kept for all of 3 days or something called "Uptempo Plum" that I merged into "Demon Sauce" years ago. Uptempo discussed how I spent every Saturday night at home, so its a real pick-me-up.

"You're officially a badass."

... says Project Alice (Milla Jovovich) to Rain's (Michelle Rodriguez) mild-mannered clone in "Resident Evil: Retribution", but lemme back up...
Actually, not necessary. Going to see Resident Evil was pretty much the sum total of my day after writing all morning. And not because there was nothing else playing.
I LOVE the Resident Evil franchise. I was incredibly bummed I was too busy make it to opening weekend in LA before I left, and I was stoked - STOKED - to see it had opened in Sydney as well AND that they had it available in IMAX 3D (even though I think 3D is crap.)
I had been trying to carve out time in Sydney to make it to the theater, and since today was super chilly and overcast, it was the perfect opportunity. I found the closest IMAX theater - a 3.7 km/47 min walk - and hoofed it. Why the hell would I walk that after bragging in my previous post about conquering the bus and train system? After sitting at my computer for 6 hours this morning, my body pretty much demanded it.
Things I noticed on my walk:
-Sydney sometimes feels a little like New York (I'll see you soon, big guy!).
-People in Sydney (Sydnians? Syds?)  walk at a decent pace, but I still walk waaay faster.
-Syds spend as much time on their iPhone, as I'm happy not to anymore- which is to say, tons. They walk and talk, walk and text, stop and text, text and text. Its intense.
-Traffic lights take forever here. I mean minutes and minutes. Forever.
-Syds rarely jaywalk. And they look at you funny if you do.
-In case you didn't know (I didn't), they right-side drive here. Now, I mastered this skill (for real) in the UK, but I was rarely a pedestrian, so I did NOT master the art of crossing the street in a right-hand driving society. Stella and I almost got killed several times this weekend as we crossed streets and it was easy to blame her for putting my life in danger. Now that I'm on my own and still almost dying on a regular basis, it's slightly harder to blame her. Needless to say, I've stopped jaywalking. Even though the traffic lights take forever.
I finally made it to the theater, which was part of this larger collection of entertainment venues (comedy, concert, Cirque du Soleil, everything). I'd missed lunch so I enthusiastically ordered a small popcorn (small = massive here. It was more popcorn than I've eaten in the last year in a tub bigger than my head.) and Slurpee along with my movie ticket. I paid the grand total of almost $40 Australian dollars slightly less enthusiastically.
Stella warned me well in advance about how expensive everything is here so when drinks were no less than $15 and burgers were $20, I was fine. Paying almost $40 for a movie (granted, IMAX 3D, but still), popcorn and a Slushee made me blink. I didn't even get nachos! Price notwithstanding, I actually got back in the concession line and tried to buy some nachos because, at that point, who gives a rat's ass- but they were out or something.
Boo.
Resident Evil was everything I expected, thank God. It barely made sense, looked so computer generated I wondered how many days they had of practical photography because it can't have been much, and Milla's hair looked completely different from scene to scene in a story that was supposed to take place over a 2 hour time period. I LOVED IT SO MUCH.
"Bianca, how the hell is that possible?" the whole world asks.
Fighting, guns, zombies, monsters, hideous dialogue, splatter gore, more fighting, cartwheels, industrial rock music, more fighting, bigger guns, and finally: MICHELLE RODRIGUEZ.
I love her. When I fantasize, I fantasize I'm her. She makes every movie better (don't ask me to prove that and don't try to prove me wrong, just accept it and please shut up). She is one of the rare actors I will go see a movie for because I know what I'm getting- a badass with great arms and a nice sneer.
God, I love her.
You know the only franchise I love more than Resident Evil? Fast & Furious. What do they have in common?

 

"It's like an orgasm on my face!"

...said the Australian teenage boy next to me on my Coastal walk about this song that started playing randomly on his phone. He really loved the song. I basically felt the same way about the view, but lemme back up.
Today I got an incredibly late start to my day after writing all morning, Skyping with my mom (she was so good at it! First timer!), and spending hours trying to change my flight to Melbourne next week. When I made my Melbourne plans all I cared about was cost, so I booked my trip to leave Sydney late Sunday afternoon and return late Wednesday night. This was weeks ago, of course. Weeks before I'd been introduced to Sydney weekends, before I had beachfront guest bedrooms with my name on them, and before I knew Monday is a holiday so the crew gets a three-day weekend which they are celebrating with a massive party Sunday night. After hours on the phone, the bottom line was it would cost me a billion dollars (seriously $1,000,000,000,000.00) to change my flights to accommodate Sydney weekend fun times. Sigh, goddamn.
My consolation is that I know I'll love Melbourne. But, whine... whatever.
After my morning I needed to get out of the house, and I wanted to get back to Bondi. I found a cool day walk in one of my guide books that goes from Waverly Cemetery along the coast to Bronte Beach, Tamarama Beach, Bondi Beach and on and on for hours. As I was only planning to go from the cemetery to Bondi, the walk actually morphed into another walk I'd been dying to try called Bondi-Coogie Clifftop Walk- I was just doing it in reverse!
Hi, Serendipity, you're so pretty and I like you so much...
I love public transportation in real cities like New York, Chicago, and London, but I don't use it in either LA or Austin because of silly reasons like I have a car and a schedule and am too lazy/impatient to figure it out- but that's me at home. On vacation, I'm Cool Bianca and endlessly patient and not lazy at all, and nevermind I'm lying. The cooler part is true; since I don't have to do anything, everything I do when I travel for pleasure is simply for pleasure, and that includes using public transportation. However, because my experience is limited, every time I hit a new city/public transpo system, I still - because at my essence I will always be me - fumble and procrastinate and usually do everything in the most wrong and time consuming way to achieve something super easy like buying a bus pass. Long story short, it took me an hour to buy my bus pass.
But I did and hopped a bus to somewhere near Waverly Cemetery.
As an aside, THANK GOD for my iPhone and Google maps. I know I used to figure out cities, directions and bus/train timetables using books, big pieces of geographic paper, and a little organ in my skull, but now there's a tiny little genius with glasses and a world-weary look upon his face that lives in my iPhone and is a geographic and logistic god. Let's call him Geo. I tell Geo where I want to go and he tells me exactly how to get there, how many minutes until the next bus, and what time I will arrive. I love how confident he is.
(Yes, I realize its also possible to use Geo in LA and Austin, and I could then give the bus system a whirl there! And reduce my carbon footprint! And do my part to ease gridlock! But ehhhhhpfffffft... I have a life. And I'm sorry, but I love my car. I'm a Texas girl! We love our wheels.)
After a half hour bus ride and a 1.5 km walk, I'm near Waverly Cemetery, but I see a patch of bluer than blue water. Instead of keeping to Geo's plan (he stamps his little foot in frustration), I walk toward the water which brings me to a cliff that I follow to my first killer beach of the day, Clovelly Beach. Its actually more cement than I'd like for a beach to have, but the surrounding cliffs and view is spectacular. It seems to be a major teenage hangout, (and it's where I came across the music lover from my post title) which is actually really cute because they're all laying out on the cement in fun flower patterns. If I were a teenager, this is where I'd be.


Clovelly Beach

From there I double back and follow my original path to the cemetery bringing Geo's blood pressure back to normal. Things are so striking and beautiful here in Sydney that I cuss a lot (Sorry, Grandma H!). My first view of the cemetery actually renders me speechless- and then I said to no one in particular, "Shut the fuck up..."




Waverly Cemetery

 If you know me at all, you know I LOVE cemeteries; I prefer above ground and the older, the better. Waverly Cemetery is massive and jam packed with all my favorites: sacred hearts, big huge crosses, family mausoleums, decrepit plots in states of gorgeous crumbling decay... The best part? The whole thing rests on a cliff overlooking the ocean so every resting soul has a killer view. I don't want to be put in the ground, but I'd totally be buried here. I took hundreds of pictures.
Every curve of the cliffwalk to Bondi brought more Holy Shit's and Fuck Me's. I took picture after picture, just trying to do each scene justice and as pretty as some of the shots are (below!) its impossible to capture the scope of beauty you experience here.
At one point I notice the walk go from footpath to paved road. There are massive rocks between the road and the water - essentially the cliff itself - that completely block the view of the ocean, but look easy enough to scale. I'm wondering why use the street at all (because I'm a thoughtless monster who isn't handicapped, old or pushing a stroller) when you can really enjoy the incredible view as you scale the rocks. So I take the road less travelled and feel pretty puffy about the whole thing until I'm forced to scoot on my butt for about half the cliff. Yes, scaling the cliff is easy but the drops from one rock to the next are steeper than they looked as I started and I'm klutzy and carrying a backpack too big for my adventure. I wouldn't have taken the road even if I had known I'd have to crab walk part of the cliff, but that's the point when I realized, ohhh, that's why there is a paved road.
When I ended in Bondi, rather than catching the bus Geo suggested, I walked to Bondi Junction, which is a half-hour uphill hike through the city, and Geo & I conquered the train system. Needless to say, I was cross-eyed tired from hours and kilometers (I'd guess somewhere like 7 miles?? I have no idea.) of walking in the sun and actually fell asleep on my computer as I tried to write all this last night. And damn, did I sleep well.

I love the word poo



Jealous of the real estate? Yes.

Rehearsing my lay to rest

 

died 18th February 1912

 

ghost or shadow...?



Waverly Cemetery from a distance

Tamarama Beach
Cute couple + puppy and miniature surfers included!

Sydney graffiti
(You see why I can't leave, don't you?)

 

 

"I have a girlfriend, but you girls are so beautiful!"

...said our new best friend, Whatsisname, on the dance floor last night.
After Stella & I spent the day with our friend Jen drinking sangria and walking around Darlinghurst and Surrey Hill, we all went dancing at a local fav bar called Flinders.
So the drinking age is 18 in Australia which means it feels like all ages everywhere. And I discovered 18 looks SO MUCH YOUNGER than it used to.
Now, I've been hearing about the legendary Cute/Interested/Available guy to girl ratio since my friends arrived in Sydney over 2 months ago. I'm told making out with a CIA guy every night is a given- to which I say, oh yeah? Because my bizarro little brain takes that as a challenge. You tell me its a sure thing? I will PROVE to you YOU'RE WRONG because I'm an asshole.
And prove it, I did.
I won last night by not making out with any CIA guys, and to go one further, my cockblock juju worked on my friends as well. You're welcome.
SO glad that's out of my system. Now I can make out. I may be a contrairy brat, but I'm not the enemy of fun. Making out is fun, and now that I've proven you can't make me make-out, I'm ready to make out. So there. (But I don't kiss & tell, so you'll get to fill in the blanks. I'm thinking many blanks.)
Sunday, Stella and I went to Bondi Beach to work out with the stunt guys from her movie. I love working out, I love the beach, and I love stunties so I was prepared for a good day. Good was a pitiful understatement. It was pretty much the best day ever!
It was an incredibly beautiful morning, made even moreso by the underwear model that was part of our group. One thing I'll say for Sydney: I'VE NEVER SEEN HOTTER PEOPLE EVER.
I drool over man and woman alike here, and Bondi Beach is the perfect place to do it. From the moment I arrived in Sydney, I've been blown away by the general pretty of the majority of people here- but at Bondi? It's just stupid. Tan skin, beautiful athletic bodies, perfectly tousled commercial hair, and everyone I've spoken to is either kind, funny or usually both. And cares what you have to say. (LA take notes, please.)
I almost threw up twice during our work-out with the stunties, but I got to box which made up for the ass kicking they gave me. Like a nerd, I brought my own gloves. Boxing in the sand is effing hard and effing fantastic. After our work-out Stella and I joined the guys at their beach-front apartment for breakfast. We only said "HOLY SHIT!" 77 or 78 times. The apartment was the most incredible beach front I've ever seen. The place with big, modern, comfy, hip, etc, etc (with a spare bedroom that I IMMEDIATELY claimed. I'm shy about a lot of things but not about beachfront property. Stella and I move in next weekend.), but the kicker? The thing that make me straight up yell absolute nonsense and speak in tongues? The WALL BETWEEN THE KITCHEN AND THE DECK SLID AWAY AND DISAPPEARED MAKING IT ONE MASSIVE OPEN SPACE OF OH-MY-GOD-AWESOME...
I just passed out from excitement.
Stella and I took a ridiculous amount of pictures of ourselves and the view while the men cooked for us. I decided I don't need to live in America anymore, and that Australia will make a great new home.
(Stella's idea on the way to work out this morning: "You should have an Australian baby."
Me: "Why?"
Stella: "Because then you'd get to come back all the time to visit and you'd have a place to stay."
Me: "Nah."
I revisited Stella's idea later when I met the underwear model, another couple stunt men, and got eyeful after eyeful of rippling surfers and sunbathers-- its now not the dumbest idea I've ever heard.)
We spent the rest of the afternoon at a birthday party for one of the stunties at a beach bar, ogling more beautiful people. I know I'm going on and on, but I honestly can't help it. What I love about the beauty here is that doesn't make you feel less attractive because everyone around you looks like a model; you actually somehow feel more attractive. I'm not sure why, but maybe its because those same gorgeous bodies and faces are looking at you the same way you're looking at them: in appreciation, with interested enthusiasm, open and ready to strike up a conversation.
This place is heaven.


Fierce in love with everything about this

 

Looking out from my future kitchen...

Looking into my future kitchen



Yup. Good-bye America...