My second day during Wellington's springtime was more like a winter day: cold, shitty, windy, rainy. I spent the morning in bed, not very motivated to leave.
Eventually, I piled the contents of my wallet and phone in a waterproof pouch under John's waterproof jacket and went to Cuba street.
I was in a fabulous mood for an inexplicable reason. Perhaps it was that I'd had a hot shower in a spacious stall with a door that actually locked properly. That was the first shower that fit all of those criteria since I was in Bangkok a few weeks ago!
I had learned about Cuba street when I talked to a young punk woman trying to sell some sketches off a main road. It was like finding my personal Mecca. The beautiful witchy goth women, the stores with bizarre and defiant art, the crafting books, delicious food extremely interesting greeting cards, Totoro stuffed animals... I was like, what the fuck? This is really happening right now??
I couldn't stop typing into my phone all of the things that caught my eye, since I could not nor wanted to purchase all that interested me, but still wanted to look them up later.
I popped into a cafe to watch the rain, read the "in order to live" book and ordered... Early grey rose tea? Seriously? Could this place read my mind any better?
After, I took pictures of signs advertising upcoming shows so I could remember to go to them. I found a shop with a bunch of random rock memorabilia, ranging from old spice girls books to kiss and Alice cooper posters. Behind the register was a teenage girl working there who reminded me of a female version of Gerard way from my chemical romance or robert smith from the cure. We talked each other's ears off about auras and rock stars and traveling and... Everything. Instant friends.
I soon broke down and made my first of two purchases in other stores: some wizard of oz cards that you color yourself with crayons that come with it (though I plan to use colored pencils) because, hello, I'm a grown up, and I have a long plane ride soon! I also got a skirt for half of what I'd find in the US and wore it out of the Banksy infested store over my leggings. I then walked to one of the events advertised on the posters.
The event was a burlesque show raising money for a local women's shelter at a bar called The Fringe. The performers were wonderful. Not only were there dancers, but also comedians that did a fabulous job of making fun of sexism. I made friends with the couple sitting next to me, who offered to drive me to the beach one day soon after I wrote down places for them to visit on their upcoming trip in the USA. Then a fucking wonderful bluegrass band called The Eastern played. Anyone who knows me knows why I felt like the universe was playing an amazingly wonderful joke on me. The day just... Got me.
I felt drunk and giddy, but I drank water through the night; didn't I tell you that I'm an adult? It was nice because it was free and I got to pour my own drinks all night. ;) When the show was over, I hung out with the band and some of the other lovely performers and event organizers.
They convinced me to join in karaoke with them and I chose my current favorite song, "warning" by incubus. I was incredibly anxious and sang it horribly. Later they pulled me into a hilarious group rendition of "we are the world," and halfway through that stupidly long song, one of my new acquaintances looked at me, laughed, and said, "you look terrified." But in my mind it was all perfect because I was facing one of my biggest fears- and sober at that!
Eventually I turned in, walking a block back to my hostel. 2 more hours flew by like nothing as I read and wrote, and just continued thinking and savoring how great the day was.
