The gentle giant and random ramblings of the weekend.

In a tight black tank top and clingy jean skirt, the outsized woman with the long mournful face occupies the whole dance floor of Cargo Bar. And why is she wearing heels? Beside her, a tiny Asian woman boogeys, her hips moving round and round, too fast for eyes to follow. Dwarfed by the unusual dancer, the Asian looks like Tinkerbell from Peter Pan.

My friends and I approach in giggles. We have never seen anything like it - an 8ft tall woman, bigger than any man I have seen, with the exception of the other giant I saw at MIT four summers ago.

I cannot help but stare because maturation has reversed. I am a curious five year old girl again. I feel so rude, but I rationalize my rudeness when I see others pulling out their cameras to take quick pictures. (Okay, I admit it. We also tried to take pictures with the giant in the background, but unfortunatley the lighting was too dark.)

The men are loving her. The tallest man in the bar, about 2/3rds her size, is loving freaking with her. But he is loving her as a spectacle and a story to laugh about with his mates. Nothing more. And this is when i question...
Why is it that pretty girls will date ugly guys, but a normal guy will rarely consider dating an unusual looking chick? Maybe I am over-generalizing here. In fact, I know I am over-generalizing, but this is my observation.

Later on in the night, an asshole in a lime green shirt smashes a smirnoff on my sisters leg and doesn't apologize. Rach stumbles back to the table with blood running down her ankle and small pieces of glass puncturing her legs. We bandage her up, drown her legs with water to get rid of excess glass and move onto the Moulin Rouge at the Cross.

The music here is going off and the atmosphere really does live up to it's name. Hard relentless beats make for a night of non-stop dancing and very sore feet. This is where I make $50 dollars from taking a guy into the club. It's good to be a girl at times like these. Actually, it's fabulous. I feel cheap taking his money, but he insisted and I did stand waiting in line with him for at least 30 minutes in my 4 inch heels.

I use this money to go sea kayaking from the Mosman bay to the National Park reserve the next day. I love the water and cannot get enough of it. If I could spend the rest of my life kayaking to unknown lands I would easily take the opportunity.

That night, I go with my sister and Jason to the Sydney Festival Jazz concert at the Domain. Three jazz bands from the New Orleans play and the music fills my soul. I dance like I have never danced before. It is an amazing feeling being encased by thousands of other happy, life-loving dancers.

I finish the night walking through Hyde park listening to faces that speak to me out of the fountain while feeling the drizzle of rain hit my skin and collect on my hair. At the same time, I lick an overpriced freckle soft-serve that hits just the right spot.