Editorial: Week 10, Semester 2
It’s the first weekend since the pubs opened and Sydney once again feels like the city I love.
One of the great feelings of life is walking down King Street after a long night out, comforted by the hustle and bustle of my neighbourhood. Punters file in and out of The Bank, laughter echoes down from open windows, and the scent of spilt beer wafts out of The Townie. I share a smile with the bouncer at Earl’s Juke Joint, and feel the perpetual judgement of the man at the corner store as I fumble around the fridge, buying yet another blue Powerade. Tonight, Thunder Road blasts through my headphones as I turn towards South King — and the piano melody melds with twinkling lights from restaurants and bars that had been boarded up for months on end. I’m writing this editorial the night before our Sunday lay up — somewhat of a cardinal sin, and to be frank: I’ve had a few too many drinks. But it’s the first weekend since the pubs opened and Sydney once again feels like the city I love.
More than anything, I am looking forward to our first in-person layup tomorrow, and the first time that the majority of Bloom are working in the same space since we parted ways late last June. And while the OB room Zoom background and ‘Gosper’ break out room might have provided some sort of solace on a late night call, it doesn’t quite cut it. I can’t wait to stroll into Pastizzi Cafe and order two spinach and cheese pastizzi, and then wander down to Double Barrell — I hope the barista remembers me after so long away. I’m looking forward to Vivienne telling me to think before I speak and Marlow’s foray into being a conneisseur of LGBT moments. But more than anything I’m looking forward to curling up under the dim flicker of the fairy lights proofreading spreads, and listening to the sweet sound of cream canisters being cracked in the other room.
The feature this edition was co-written by Leah Bruce, one of my best friends, and the best support structure I could ask for the past 12 months. She’s always interested in my pointless stupol anecdotes, and can always make me feel better over a plate of sushi after a long week. She, along with Jenae Madden, tell the story of Stucco, their home and a unique beacon of hope — offering low-cost social housing to students in need. I feel so lucky that Unit 6 took in one of my best friends when she needed a place to stay. I, too, am so grateful to have spent half a decade enveloped in the comfort of Unit 6’s fluorescent green walls, throwing back litres of mulled wine, and dancing around the coffee table.
Thank you to Shania for this beautiful cover. Thank you for all the morning burgers and day-long debriefs on Cadigal Lawns.
I am forever grateful to have this time, this paper, these friends.