Sydney, Australia did more than just surprise me, it opened my eyes to different ways of life. People not only drove on the left side of the road, but everybody walked on the left side of the sidewalk. And for somebody that was constantly used to sticking to the right, it was a struggle to convert to a different way of direction.
Sydney was similar to Los Angeles in ways such as the bright and warm weather. The sun was constantly warming my skin, adding a certain bronze glow to my appearance. Sydney had busy streets and not one person looked or dressed like the person next to them, which was refreshing. The only difference between Australia and the US are the accents. The way that syllables left these people's mouths left me drooling.
The obvious question here, is 'why move to another continent?' I would be lying if I said it was simple. First, my best friend graduated our high school in LA two years ago and left me to fend Junior and Senior year by myself. So, when I graduated, I wanted to be reunited with the person I've spent seven years of my life with. It was always our dream to live in Australia together. So Stacia felt the need to leave early, get settled and start attending university while I battled chemistry and algebra. We had the idea to move across the world when I was a sophomore and she was a senior, and that's when I began saving up for airline tickets and money for renting an apartment.
Leaving my family was something that took a lot of strength. To be honest, the only reason my mother was able to let me leave was because I got accepted into the University of Sydney that had a very famous writing program, to which I received a scholarship for. The scholarship will pay for my first two years, but I've been working my butt off to save up money for the next two years, and I have to pay rent somehow.
By the third week I was here I had gotten to know the streets well by walking around on my own. The original plan was for Stacia to help me get to know the area but she was overloaded with work from Uni. She was going into her third year and just seeing the amount of stress that went on behind the textbooks turned my stomach into a knot. I haven't started school yet, not only because I have anxiety when it comes to classrooms, but because I've been spending so much time working and trying to save up money.
Since sketching and drawing are some of my other passions, I applied for a job at a tattoo parlor called "Permanent Ink". It was an intriguing place with black lights and individual rooms with curtains to give the customers privacy. The process of getting the job took a while. I was given requests and the owners tested me by seeing how I could match my artwork to the clients desires. Of course, my creativity didn't fail me and I was now working the job almost 24/7.
In the time that I've been there, I have gotten a variety of tattoos, with an amazing discount.
My first tattoo that I decided to get was a cross on my left hand that stretched from the last knuckle on my thumb to the top of my wrist. The second piece of ink on my skin was a specific date in roman numerals on the back of my neck. The most recent tattoo was a treble music symbol on my right forearm. It wasn't too large and my skin was coated from my wrist to the middle of my forearm.
I laced up my combat boots as I held the toothbrush in my mouth. Oversleeping was one of my well known qualities and I was extremely late to work. I quickly rinsed out my mouth, and began to tend to my hair as I exited the small building I was currently residing at. As I was rushing out the door, my hands desperately tried to fix my hair into a french braid. I didn't have enough time for the elevator so I raced down the stone steps, holding my hair tie in my mouth.
As I cleared the stairwell, I took a sharp corner around the railing to get to the parking lot, only to bump into a massive body. I toppled backwards, muttering a mouthful curse words as I neared the gravel. Since my hands were too busy in my hair, I used my elbows to stop my body from slamming into the concrete, which only resulted in the material on my leather jacket to rip. And there I was, laying on the ground, holding my hair, and looking up into the chocolate brown eyes of an unfamiliar Australian.
