whoahhh I am sleepy. I was up late looking at pictures of the inside of the Sydney Harbour bridge.

Two friends of mine just popped out of the woodwork. One, C., came back without notice from a year of travelling in Australia and Thailand. He calls me at 10:30 at night (it feels like 3:30 the next afternoon to him) and I ask him what time it is where he is. "10:30", he says. Eeeeee! I'm so excited. I invite him for tea then and there and he comes over. I invite my boyfriend too, in case I fall asleep in my mug.

Just after both arrive, the phone rings again. It's my friend S., who is now apparently in Montr�al. Last I heard, he was working as a labourer on a tobacco farm in rural ontario, teaching english to spanish speaking workers in the evenings after a day of gruelling labour. He's sick, and awaiting his next assignment, on a tree nursery. Whoah.

It is midnight and I am way too sleepy to absorb all of this. I make some green apple tea and lay back on my couch, dazedly absorbing travels tales. I feel a little like I'm hallucinating. I haven't seen you in so long! I am so glad you're back! You did what? After the story of his illegal 3 am trip inside the framework of a bridge, he tells us about a monkey who almost bit him, the wallabee who tried to eat his comb, and the thai dog who did bite him, necessitating a scary trip to a thai hospital for a rabies shot. He presents me with a bag made from a kangaroo scrotum as he tells us about a brass band being towed by bicycles in a Melbourne Critical Mass.

I'm so hallucinating. He's back? He's back.

At 1:30 I kick him out and stagger to bed to get three or four hours of sleep. I dream about taking the bus in singapore.

I suspect a conspiracy on the part of the international Wallabee & Professional Office Workers Union, local 31337. I forgive them for everything.