Who knows, maybe there isn't a vein of stars callin' out my name.

Right now I am in a laying on a mattress covered by a mosquito net on the balcony out back.  It is almost midnight, and I will sleep out here tonight.  I can hear the ocean pretty good.  Swell is picking up, and its been spitting rain in spurts all day.  The air is fresh and the noises are soothing.

Straight back across the back yard I see the back yards of the houses the next street over.  A 48-year-old woman was murdered somewhere over there by her 17-year-old son last week.  I heard he may be mentally ill - schizophrenic or something.  I heard he stabbed her.  The newspaper did not report anything except that she was killed by him and he has medical conditions.

In other news -

I never did get to hike a volcano in Indonesia.  I was told by other travelers that it was too rainy and muddy and the trails were closed, and I'd like you all to assume that is why I didn't do it.  But the truth is I heard that and then didn't investigate further anyway.  I just didn't get around to it.

That's ok though, opportunities don't stop coming and I finally got to a volcano in Australia.  A long time inactive volcano, but I'm satisfied.

It's a thing around here to hike Mt. Warning for sunrise, as it is for most popular summit trails.  Its a peculiar thing, the popularity of the sunrise hike.  Someone asked me afterward about the hike and then asked "was it worth it?"  I couldn't quite figure out that question or an appropriate answer.  "Was it worth it?"  As though I had made some kind of huge sacrifice.  It was cool, and I only had to alter my sleep schedule for a day or so, so I guess that means it was worth it.

The fun thing about the Mt Warning hike were the multiple setbacks and obstacles that seemed to want to prevent us from succeeding in our quest that day.  After leaving the dive center that day I ran into another American guy, Matt, who volunteers there as well.  He and his friends had plans to hike later, and I asked to tag along.  We were meant to meet at 11:30, get ready and go.  It takes about 1.5 hours to drive there, and then 1.5-2 hours to get to the top.  They had one spare seat in the car, and all was sweet.

I showed up at 11:30 and found out their driver was MIA, so I was defaulted to drive my car.  Funny thing, I drove into town to meet up with everyone, parked my car in the alley behind their hostel, and then wouldn't you know my car wouldn't start.  I don't know what is up with that anyway.  We rolled it out of the alley, and eventually flagged someone down for a jump.

Oh, shit, I don't have enough gas to make it there, and there are no 24 hour gas stations until Tweed (Déjà vu all over again).  Off a bit out of the way to Tweed for some petrol - success!  And finally on the way to our final destination.

My car out here, well she does the trick around town but... She's no Cheryl.  For this trip I had 5 people in her, and the last half hour of driving was all uphill, and she definitely didn't like that.  When we finally got to the trail head parking lot and I shut the car off, I noticed she was smoking and leaking from the radiator.  I think it was somewhere around 3am at this point.  What do you do about a leaking radiator at 3am when you are in the middle of nowhere?  Hike to the top of a mountain and deal with it later.

Head lamps on, snacks in our backpacks, and we're off.  It was dark, it was quiet, it started out pretty easy, and there were awesome, green, glow-in-the-dark fungi all around.  The last .5 km was basically a rock climb with a thick chain provided for assistance.  We made it to the summit platform about an hour before sunrise.  We weren't alone.  I was tired, and after the sun came up I think I slept in my sleeping bag on the bench for about an hour or so, the sun was shining and warming by now which made for a pleasant descent.

Mission Accomplished

Of course, I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that my radiator had overflowed and the little experience I have with overflowing radiators has lead me to believe that if that happens there is no way in hell you are going to successfully drive an hour and a half home without issue.  But apparently hiking Mt. Warning has magical powers and we made it home with no dramas.  Then I got a job.  =)

One thing:  No matter how many times you see them, sunrises and sunsets are always fricken awesome.

My Job:  A seafood restaurant called Fish Heads.  Nice place, classy dinner atmosphere.  I was hoping to go for something a little less demanding in service standards, and this reminds me quite a bit of my last two jobs, but still is a bit less hectic.  Plus, I moved right in comfortably very quickly and everyone seems pleased to gain my acquaintance around there.

Viewing my place of diving from my place of working.

The building is a bit of historical site, being the original Bathers Pavilion built in 1951.  There is a public pool also on the property, which again is remarkably nostalgic of my previous place of employment.  It is located literally front and center in town, right on the main beach and the main street.  So far so good - they kept me very busy last week, and called me in for 3 extra shifts.  I'm glad to be taking some work while I can get it.  The Blues Fest and Easter holiday have brought swarms of visitors, but I'm sure things are going to quiet down in the upcoming months.  I have done my part to become liked and somewhat valuable, so I feel confident about keeping up my employment with them even in the winter.

I only managed to get to the Blues Fest for a couple of hours one afternoon.  Bobby D was playing that evening, but I had to go to work.  My house mates saw him and reported that he was a bit of a disappointment.  They aren't really fans though, and, although I'm sure he's lost his pizazz in live performance, it would still be amazing to be in the presence of a living legend who's words and thoughts shape my thoughts and view of the world.  And if he happened to pick up a guitar and sing us a tune, wouldn't that be a delight?  Oh well, that's twice I've missed Bob Dylan now, and maybe the last chance I'll get.  He still sounds good coming from my computer and headphones.

I did see Tim Robbins and his band.  Yeah, that's right, Tim Robbins - the actor - plays in a band.  I didn't know that, but then there he was on stage.  It was hard to take him seriously, but he really wasn't too bad.  They had a busker station where random local/very unprofessional acts performed on a folded chair.  Some of that stuff was really great.  Otherwise there were 5 stages and I just kind of bounced around for the afternoon.  Almost like visiting an art gallery, or a wine tasting, but for music!  I still much prefer the random musical gems you find in the corner of a pub in town from time to time.  The extravagant production with a stage and confused crowds seems to really take some soul away from the music.  Except the Flaming Lips.  They seem to embrace a live performance as the beast that it is, and turn the whole thing into a big interactive party and that is seriously a good time.

Checking over my dive kingdom from the balcony

I continue to show up at the dive center.  For the next couple of months I guess I will divide my time between working, diving, and getting to know this part of Australia.  Since I'll be staying put for a little while now I think I'll go ahead and do my dive master course, but the water is getting cold!  Cold water brings cool wildlife though, so at least there is that to look forward too.

Where they house the live-in volunteers

I got to do my first kind of assistant dive guiding the other day, and it was mostly hellish.  I've done it before, but mostly it just ends up being a fun dive cause there is already a dive guide and I'm meant to hang out at the back of the group and loosely keep an eye on things.  This particular group was just strangely problematic.  First of all there was an older man who was having all kinds of trouble with his buoyancy and kept holding everybody up.  Not that big of a deal, if it weren't for the Overconfident Aggressive Alpha Male who repeatedly swam off out of sight requiring me to repeatedly chase after him, get his attention, and pull him back to the group.  It felt a lot like what I imagine it would feel like to herd sheep.

So, I work in a classy/casual restaurant by the beach with a pool, I ride my bike around which makes me very happy, I'm about to join a gym and get back on a regular yoga schedule, I go hiking and to music festivals and I play in the Pacific Ocean.  Not much has changed really, since I left Los Angeles in October.  I guess you could call me a creature of habit.