One of the issues with reading reviews of any type is the general lack of balance. It was either really good or really bad. I gave up looking at restaurant reviews on yelp.com because inevitably some cow from Iowa, moves to some large city (Des Moines?), can’t cook, eats out only once a month and then exclaims how this fantastic restaurant had ‘silverware’ on the table. Similarly, the guy who gets a bad waiter (which admittedly can ruin a night) and can’t give an impartial review after that. For non-regular reviewers, any review they write tends to be negative. We all like to complain.
In most major cities (Sydney included) there is a gay bookstore filled with various self-help, self indulgence books of various sorts by authors I’ve never heard of. Surrounded by men whore magazines is also fantasy books on unrequited love, youth, or misspent youth. I was never sure why these bookstores existed, but surely as a business, they must have sufficient patronage to keep the doors open. Gay guys never seem to stop examining themselves both physically and mentally.
Scrappy Doo and I are happily plodding along here in Sydney. I have finally rid him of his nocturnal habits (getting him up early in the morning has helped) and he’s lost all desire to prowl around the gayborhood at night. He’s domesticated! I sense he’s happy or happy enough and we are just enjoying our time here.
Sadly, it looks like the time in Sydney may be a tad shorter than planned. Company wants me/us to move up to Hong Kong end of June as it’s easier reach to the other Asian countries (Australia is at the end of the earth). I’ve got no friends, no colleagues or recent experiences in what is the NYC of Asian, a concrete jungle, mesh of people all scurrying about. Guess I’ll find out.