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I'm in loooooove 8D
Mar. 28th, 2009 07:34 pmWELL. Where to start.
( Yesterday part 1: Mt. Wellington and Mt. Field. )
And then I pet a koala. The caretaker brought out both the two-year-old girl koala I got to pet and the baby wombat he'd been raising since its mum was roadkill'd, which I also got to pet, but it was bristly and not as fluffy, fuzzy, thick-furred and completely squishy as the koala.
( Yesterday part 2: 10 Days On The Island )
I went home with Dr. Horrible in my ears. I was almost to my hostel, with Brand New Day winding up and visions of stomping gleefully through the street in my mind, when a good-natured-looking guy in a suit and goatee grinned at my face on the way by.
"Lookit you, how happy you are!" he exclaimed, gleeful.
I laughed. "I can't stand it!" Which was true; I was beaming and couldn't help it at all.
"Nah, it's good!" he reassured, grinning toward his lady companion and then back at me, the two of us just sharing a laugh at laughter at ten at night on a dark street in Hobart, Tasmania.
I was still beaming into the dark as we passed each other by. "It's a great night!" I called back.
So. That's the lady tourmate, the girl in the portrait, the girl tourmate, the lady with the shawl, and the man with the goatee. Five people who were friendly and generous to me on Friday. If I count people who were just friendly when approached, that'll have to include the four breakdancers and five drinking buddies who I drew at various points during the evening.
Hobart, Tasmania, everybody. I want to live here.
( Yesterday part 1: Mt. Wellington and Mt. Field. )
And then I pet a koala. The caretaker brought out both the two-year-old girl koala I got to pet and the baby wombat he'd been raising since its mum was roadkill'd, which I also got to pet, but it was bristly and not as fluffy, fuzzy, thick-furred and completely squishy as the koala.
( Yesterday part 2: 10 Days On The Island )
I went home with Dr. Horrible in my ears. I was almost to my hostel, with Brand New Day winding up and visions of stomping gleefully through the street in my mind, when a good-natured-looking guy in a suit and goatee grinned at my face on the way by.
"Lookit you, how happy you are!" he exclaimed, gleeful.
I laughed. "I can't stand it!" Which was true; I was beaming and couldn't help it at all.
"Nah, it's good!" he reassured, grinning toward his lady companion and then back at me, the two of us just sharing a laugh at laughter at ten at night on a dark street in Hobart, Tasmania.
I was still beaming into the dark as we passed each other by. "It's a great night!" I called back.
So. That's the lady tourmate, the girl in the portrait, the girl tourmate, the lady with the shawl, and the man with the goatee. Five people who were friendly and generous to me on Friday. If I count people who were just friendly when approached, that'll have to include the four breakdancers and five drinking buddies who I drew at various points during the evening.
Hobart, Tasmania, everybody. I want to live here.
