Sydney, Day Two.

I slept 16 hours. I did not know I was even capable of that. I esteem myself very much.

So my day started a little past 1 pm and looks almost over. I made calls and checked out some flats. I like a couple. I hope I will make up my mind soon, pick the right one and get it over with. I like the city. I love the people. I am already learning my way around. At least downtown now begins to look familiar. I am writing from the same place as yesterday, just to have some points of reference, you know.

I am realizing just now how awefully far away I am. Thrilled!

I have very good news. I have graduated.

I passed the exam with a miserable - but extremely precious - 19 - for those who are not familiar with the Italian examination system, the minimum required mark is 18 out of 30. I could not care less.

This is officially the last time I have to express profound concern about university-related bullshit. V. happy and gay.

Just one last funny remark is about this Australian vernacular. I should get a T-shirt with a nice clear writing on it: "DON'T CALL ME MATE!". They don't say sentences like Thank you or Please or You're welcome. The have a suffix the attach to absolutely everything. It all becomes Thank you, mate or Please mate or You're welcome mate. They even give you the change saying: 2.50 'ate. They don't even pronounce it correctly!!!

Enough with bullshit.

I'm starting to worry about some close "friend". Actually ex. Ex-boyfriend I mean. I sent him a message when I was in Milan, saying I wanted to meet up and say goodbye and he didn't reply. I thought he was in Amsterdam for Madonna's concert but indeed he was not. I sent him a message when I was in the airport lounge waiting to board. I sent him an email saying I'd arrived alright. Silence. I read his blog - meaning at least he is still alive - and I understood he must be feeling very low. He's a wreck. That's what love makes you sometimes, I suppose. Evil sweet creature.