Sunday 30 September 2012

What I did on my holidays

Academy of Moving Images
Adrian and I were at a loose end on Thursday, the 20th- we were originally gonna hunt elephants in the great concrete jungle that is the CBD, but then we realised there weren't any, so we instead decided to visit the Academy of Moving Images, otherwise known as AcMI; sadly, they don't stock dynamite. In spite of this, I enjoyed myself, one may be tempted to say immensely. The first room detailed the history of the moving images in its various forms (TV, films, video games, etc.), and although I noticed a mistake (Snow White was NOT the first animated feature film), it was mildly interesting and there were enough clips/games to entertain even the most distractable of kids, i.e. me. 

But the second room is where it really kicked off; it was more experimental in its approach to motion pictures, and it really paid off. There was a room where you could see clips from different films (different Australian films) presented in surround viewing- there were three different screens (one in front and one either side) and whenever the camera view changed, the screens switched as well. There were experiments with silhouettes, adding weird animated clip arts to one's shadow, and a section where you could versus another player, with one of you playing wii tennis and the other pong.  It was really rather cool. There was also a room with a cone of light being projected across some dry ice; it may sound lame, but it created a really cool effect. Hopefully, I'll post a video tomorrow of me walking toward the camera with the light behind me and looking like every sci fi villain in the history of ever.
There was also the opportunity to create your own flickbook, and Adrian and I decided upon one of me punching him in the face. 'A wordless masterpiece', the critics are calling it; we're considering submitting it for a Pulitzer prize. They also had a genuine Academy Award, behind a glass case to stop idiots like myself from stealing it practicing their speeches.
*Sigh* Thanks, I guess.
Sufficient Grace
I also attended a book launch with Mistress Raso- the book was called Sufficient Grace, and was written by one of Milly's professors. I went hoping to land a publishing deal, but instead ending up spending the night talking to Frank, an RMIT architect. Alack.

Bonfire
A couple of months ago, I expressed to Aspen how I wanted to see a controlled burning- where the bush is set on fire to keep it from getting overgrown or something. She responded by inviting me to a bonfire at her house. She also invited almost everyone else from Yarra, so it didn't feel quite so special.
The bonfire was still a lot of fun, though.

I drove out with Aspen (and Manthy and Jason and Smeargle) on Friday, a day ahead of everyone else, and met her parents and stayed in her house. This was technically the first time I'd left Melbourne, as Philip Island and Frankston were both counted as some kind of suburb, apparently.
Aspen's parents were pretty fly, and the dinner was really yum. Aspen's mum had actually cooked a birthday cake for me, which was random, but sweet (in both senses of the word). We then watched Airplane (Australians know it as 'Flying High') and then gossiped late into the night.

The next day, we went for a bush walk, so I can officially say I've been into the bush. It was peaceful, but untamed, and there was a distinct air of potential danger to the place (there were poisonous snakes hiding in the grass, after all). There were kangaroos (which I missed), Blue-tongued lizards (which I missed) and an echidna, which I watched for about twenty minutes. That's right, I got to see an echidna in the wild; that's extremely rare, just so you know. My friend Jason filmed it walking (some idiot insisted on singing the Baby Elephant Walk) and the video will be added to the Wildlife page.

Then of course, there was the bonfire itself, which I got to light! Jason was also afforded the honor, but he kinda messed it up and his flame went out, whereas mine spread much faster than anticipated, no doubt fueled by pyromania. We danced around it naked, roasted marshmallows, played never have I ever, you know, the typical boy scout activities.
I got a little bit tipsy, but then sobered up pretty quickly and spent the rest of the night wondering whether or not I should reintoxicate myself. I decided not.

Sydney
Periodically, I need to be reminded to not leave everything to the last minute. It happened in first year, with Bedlam stuff, second year with Exchange paperwork, and this year with my flight to Sydney. I actually planned my journey to the airport and arrived at the train station with ample time. I just had no money on my Myki card; this was a problem because it meant I wouldn't be able to leave the station on the other side, and thus couldn't catch the airport shuttle bus. I tried using my cards, but both were declined. I tried getting cash out at the Petrol station, but it didn't work, I tried getting a lift, but no one was in- time was running out. I then ran to the nearest cash point, and tried one of my British cards in there; it granted me $20 and I dashed back to the train station, and I just managed by the skin of my teeth to catch a train there- if I'd missed it, I wouldn't have made my flight. I arrived at the airport two minutes before check-in closed. I didn't have my flight info but I did have my passport (even that was a fluke), and they printed out a reciept which was meant to count as a flight pass.
It is worth noting that Tiger airways, who took me to Sydney, were the least professional airline I've flown with. I was warned before booking that they'd been sued for flying low (like, literally, not having their zippers undone), and I did notice that the ground was much more visible during this flight than many others I've taken. I also felt much more ill during landing than usual, but I can't really blame that on them (unless altitude poisoning is a thing...to HOUSE!).
Still totally me.
When I actually arrived, I found I'd been upgraded at the hostel from a 36 person dorm to a 6 person dorm, which I think is the only reason I didn't suffocate because the rooms were windowless, with no air conditioning in the Sydney heat. This had a surprising benefit in that all the guys in the room (save me) slept in their underwear sans blankets. So, y'know, silver linings. However, this also meant that I had to sleep on the top bunk of a bunk bed, which those of who know me will know is a problem for me. Alack. I managed.

Sydney was beautiful- the juxtaposition of ocean and metropolis was so striking that I spent most of my time riding ferries and just admiring the view. It was extremely satisfying. I had a travel ticket, so I could use all the public transport as much as I wanted, so I just zipped around the harbor in boats. They even had water taxis, which I've probably seen before in London but I'm gonna pretend are exclusive to Sydney. I can see why my dad was so enthusiastic about Sydney now because he's quite the marinophile.
I saw all the famous sites, because they're all within like three feet of each other, which is certainly convenient, but probably makes the rest of the city feel unpretty. After all, people are only there to see the bridge and the opera house- who cares about downtown Sydney, honestly? Anyway, not only did I see the opera house, I actually saw an opera in it. They did a thing called 'student rush' which allowed me to get $170 tickets for $50. It was Madama Butterfly, and it sounded so beautiful, but lacked substance in the plot- I really wanna see an opera where something actually happens, because I think it'd be a lovely mix of beauty and awesomeness. Also, in the Opera house, there was a tall, dark, solitary man who for a moment I thought was following me, and I realized this would've been an awesome place to have met my Antipodean Paramour, but then he stopped following me and I didn't see him again. Darn.
On top of this, I went to the Sydney Aquarium, which was pretty unremarkable, except I paid the child's rate for the glass bottom boat ride cos the woman running it liked me. I learnt alot, and I always like things like aquariums, so it wasn't unenjoyable, it was just the only part of the trip where I felt lonely (Jason was meant to come, but backed out). Alack.
I also took the 'famous' Manly ferry, which was a very cool boat ride and then paddled at night on the beach- there were shark or stinger nets up, which worried me slightly, but I decided to ignore that anyway and paddle outside the netted area anyway. Like a badass. On the ferry back, I found an iphone, and considered just keeping it, because free iphone, but then the owner phoned it and I felt I had to give it back once I could attach a voice to the person I was depriving. Anyway, I returned it to him, he offered me money, I refused, he offered me a lift, I refused and that was that. I thought this would've been another great jumping-off point for a whirlwind romance, but it seems it was not to be. So much for naming my first-born 'Sydney'.

Ballarat Wildlife Park/My Birthday
Not that anyone remembered (not even Spanish Daniel, who I reminded not two weeks ago that it was coming up) but Friday was my birthday. Milly, Martin, Aspen and I (Jason was meant to come but backed out- starting to become a recurring thing with him) drove out to Ballarat Wildlife park.
I chose this location because visitors are allowed to feed kangaroos and hold koalas- sadly, the koalas were kept inside cos of the rain (like it never rains where they're from). But, I did get to feed kangaroos and emus and llamas, and there were other typically Australian animals like crocodiles and wombats and taipans, so I completed my Australian animal bucket list. I felt up a boa constrictor and got extremely close with an eagle (if you know what I mean). I also got to witness an emu shit all over a baby kangaroo (called a joey, you know), so that was something.
It was good fun, but quite a drive- it wasn't very expensive, though, which was refreshing for Australia. The rain was unavoidable, sadly, and did slightly hamper the enjoyment of the day (not to mention keeping me from getting Koala chlamydia).

When we got back, I skyped my mom then we went out for dinner to a local pub- I had chicken curry. Then we got back, had cake, and got drunk. Well, I got drunk. It's not really particularly clear after that point, but I remember finding Taken hilarious (it was just so bad), and singing Annie loudly in the street, so I clearly enjoyed myself and didn't smash any glasses this time. Progress.

I haven't done that much this weekend (apart from hearing the best insult ever, see yesterday's post) and class starts back tomorrow, but I think all in all this was an extremely enjoyable Spring Break (woo! Spring Break!) and I have officially left Melbourne and also been to another state, so no one can say I'm not seeing the rest of Australia. I can put another pin in my map.

Saturday 29 September 2012

Feel the Burn

Dear listeners,
tomorrow I am going to write up everything I've done this wonderful holiday, and that was fully intended to be my fiftieth post; I thought it had the requisite glamour to it. But it has been outdone. Oh yes. Because, mere minutes ago, I heard possibly the greatest put down of my life. Flawless in its cruelty, perfect in its utter unprovokedness. This one takes the Oscar for Most Damaging Comment.
I'd like to thank the academy, you cunts.
You see, Aspen, Jason, Logan, Martin and I were driving along in Aspen's car, having just frequented the local supermarché. Jason had just made another querulous remark about his admittedly spartan childhood, specifically relating to the lack of birthday parties in his life. And Aspen responded, unquaveringly deadpan,
Isn't it depressing Jason?The only friends you'll ever make, and they'll vanish before your birthday.
They say you could feel the burn from Auckland. Having been at the epicenter of the detonation, I certainly felt the heat; such intensity, but it didn't scorch me- it felt healing, as though the fire bleached all the impurities from my body. I don't know if Jason felt quite so positively about it, though.
I'm crying on the inside.
But yes, that is what I hand to you for our fiftieth outing together, reader: the greatest insult I have ever heard, and sadly I was not the one to deliver it. Alack.

Tuesday 18 September 2012

They took all the condors and put em in a condor museum

My word, I haven't updated you in a long time; I'm sure you're all clamouring to find out what I've been doing during spring break (woo! Spring break!). Don't worry, I have a good excuse for this catastrophic lack of updates. I was building a house.


Travis, eat your heart out.
As you can see, construction was complex, arduous and colourful. But my god, it was worth it. Jason just built some stupid robot of which no photographic evidence exists whatsoever- it was sadly destroyed when my house collapsed. Because I pelted it with bricks until it fell apart. Good times.

These pictures were taken at the Melbourne Museum, which was a mix of nearly all the museums I've ever visited, with the exception of the museum of torture: it had art, it had skeletons, it had condors (more condors than necessary, if you ask me); there was even a space for nap time!
It was divided into two floors- on the bottom floor, there were all the animals (it was the first museum I've seen which contained live animals- it had ants, flies and (shudder) redback spiders)- this was where we spent the majority of our time, especially in a Noah's ark type room with literally hundreds of specimens judging you from their plinths (pictures below). The second was split between an exhibition on the mind, themed like a labyrinth, with chambers that simulated dreams and pods where people ranted at you about how they're special, which I found interesting but have no pictures of, because my battery ran out, and one on puberty which Jason didn't let me see because he wanted to visit the giftshop- now I'll never know what happened to Peter, Jane and their rapidly changing bodies.

It really was a lot of fun- I got to see whales
It was skinless when I found it. Honest.
and dinosaurs



and bugs



and a tonne of taxidermied critters














Look, birds! Nowhere else I can see them, nosiree. 

It really was a lot of fun, and I didn't even see it all. I got in for free too, which was the icing on the cake.

I also got to see The Dark Knight Rises in IMAX, which I guess was the marzipan figurine on the cake. It's awesome in IMAX, but it does make some glaring continuity errors more noticeable, namely who's driving the truck. But well worth the money to see it again, only this time seven storeys high. The Melbourne Museum actually has the world's 3rd largest screen- the second largest is in Sydney, where I'm going next week (squee!), but I probably won't check it out. Alack.

Sunday 16 September 2012

A town called turkey

I don't normally do this (in the four months I've had this blog), but I'm gonna review 'A Town Called Mercy'. It was awful. Singularly awful. Unforgivably awful.
Not only was it not funny, it was unfunny: the parodical elements were nothing less than cringeworthy ('I'll have a tea, but the strong stuff; leave the bag in'- I wanted to thump him) and the only good line was 'his name's susan and he wants you to respect his life choices'; the rest of the horse thing was just a rip off of 'I speak baby', which was slicker and came first.
The plot was ridiculous- it was meant to be a moral dilemma, but it just wasn't. They should've just let the doc die at the beginning. Yes, he'd done some good, but as the doctor said, you don't get to choose your justice- and as the cyborg said, the victim does get to choose. Amy's logic 'Are you gonna hunt down everyone who's built a gun' doesn't work as an argument because guns aren't sentient- the doctor wasn't angry because the doc had built a weapon, it was cos he altered people against their will. The doc even ended up killing himself (and where did that come from?), rendering the entire thing pointless.
Overall, it was boring and overwraught and didn't have enough in it to last forty minutes. I expect more of Doctor Who, and honestly it's a shame that this was one of Amy and Rory's last episodes- they didn't even need to be in it. They did bugger all. Shame on whoever wrote it.

Friday 14 September 2012

I wanna take you to the island

Hoo boy, do I have a lot to tell you?
Yes, yes I do.
I can now cross quite a bit off my Australian Bucket list. I saw Koalas:
Hush time, little munchkin.
Wallabies:
Upon seeing it, I was heard to cry "That rabbit's huge!"
A peregrine falcon
Yeah, I'm the fastest animal on earth. What of it?
And a platypus
Which I sadly didn’t manage to photograph (thing was bloody quick).
All of them were in the wild. Not behind bars or nothing.
I also saw a raft (collective noun for the win) of penguins, and sadly photography was forbidden, but I’m such a naughty little thing:
What other animal could pull off that scarf?
Just kidding. But I totally did get a picture of some other fairy penguins:
Four men died smuggling this out.
I also cracked a whip:
Whips and chains fail to excite him.
Saw a sheep shearing:
Milked a cow:

As you can see, I'm pretty experienced with a teat.
And watched a dog herding turkeys:
True Australiana, right there.
I really liked Phillip Island; there was lots to do, it was pretty and easy to traverse, and there was even a nightclub which played music that I liked. I didn't even get to do all there was to do there: I didn't visit the chocolate factory or go on the seal cruise. You can also take helicopter joy rides, and there's twenty percent off until the end of September, so I may be making a return sooner than expected. 

Wednesday 12 September 2012

Smartsy artsy

It would seem I am now secretary of a theatre company. Huh. I thought I'd feel more powerful. Alack.
This unexpected turn of events comes after a meeting with a nice young man named Andrew with whom I discussed theatre, the goals of art, what I enjoyed seeing/accomplishing in art and the works I'd produced specifically. He reminded me of Paul Hughes, in that they held the exact opposite views and therefore sounded exactly the same (I do believe that was almost profound).
We also discussed my quitting Facebook, and he pointed out that I had this blog and thus had only transferred my addiction, not kicked it. But, I countered, I'm not spending time obsessing over and comparing myself to other peoples' lives, which was what was damaging about Facebook in the first place. I never wanted to stop talking about myself documenting my life; I just needed to stop fixating on others'.
He said he thought this was a good point, and that it was indicative of a wider trend in society in general, a need to achieve and an obsession with saving face and living up to expectations (even ones which are stupid). I'm twenty and need to grow out of feeling smug when someone older than me compliments my thought process, but Andrew's 32 and I now feel like the cleverest little swat in the class.
This is the second blog post today showing off about my academic achievement, metaphorical or otherwise. I'm glad no one's reading this.

Could do better

So, I'm officially on spring break! Woo! Spring break! I feel like such a frat boy.
So very frat.
These last few days of term have been somewhat uneventful, hence the lack of updates (because I am certainly not one to get hung up on minutiae). But I feel I need to update y'all before I head out this evening. Because, yes, your beloved wizard is heading out on a small trip, to Phillip Island.
If you google it, or if you're Esmond, who happened to be with me when I discovered what was on Phillip Island, you'll know why I'm excited. I'll give you a hint:
Ladies.
Last time, I spectacularly failed to photograph the little blighters, and apparently you're not allowed to take pictures on Phillip Island, but we'll see how we go: you may yet get a snap of a Fairy by mine own hand.
This trip will be taken in the company of messieur Jason, and a bunch of his friends who I've never met. We'll be driving in a car and staying in a hotel together, so this should be interesting at least.

Driving a rental car with a bunch of strangers across a penguin island called Phillip; what could possibly go wrong?
In other news, I went for lunch in the queerspace, which is where the theory session from Tuesday was held, in case you can't put two and two together. It was fine; the conversation was less intellectualised, which was appreciated, but also less focussed, which was not. I got invited to a party, which I don't think I'll be attending, due to a sudden case of the penguins, but it was nice to be invited- the guy even gave me his number (though he gave it to everyone else, lessening the impact).
And finally, although the lunch thing has been the only real news, so more, and secondly, I got a very good mark on my Language, Society and Culture essay, so I'm feeling really smug at the moment.
Smug? Moi?

Tuesday 11 September 2012

Queery

Today I went to a queer theory discussion group. I didn't know quite what queer theory was, but I thought I might as well give it a go and see what happened.

The group was run by Quinn, whom I had encountered before; I had thought Quinn to be male, as she does not act in a particular feminine manner (though is somewhat effeminate), and still looks somewhat masculine. I was mistaken, as Quinn refers to herself as 'she'; this is not the first time I've encountered a transgender person, but was the first time I'd met someone who identified as another gender and did not particularly espouse any mannerisms associated with that gender. I'm trying desperately hard not to be offensive here, and am not intending to disparage anyone in a similar position- this blog is at least somewhat diaristic in nature and this was a first for me.
I soon realised that in this group I was the normal one for only identifying as a gay biologically-born male; I do not think anyone else there was quite as solid about their identity. I heard at least one 'I don't like labels', which I've never understood, because labels are incredibly useful and you can be labelled as something without demonstrating all the traits associated with it, which, from what I understand, is that from which the objections spring. Of course, if someone doesn't want to apply labels to themselves, then I have no right to force them to, but there are so many labels available that I can't imagine there isn't one that describes you. For example, sexuality, I can think of: heterosexual, homosexual, asexual, bisexual, pansexual, omnisexual. What permeation of sexuality has not been covered by these? I personally don't see why we need both 'pansexual' and 'omnisexual' as no one has explained to me the difference between them. And then, with gender, there is biologically-male, biologically-female, mentally-male, mentally-female (I would personally collapse these into two categories 'male' and 'female' but I can see why some may want to distinguish), intersex, agendered. Yet again, I cannot see what has not been covered by these. Unless you want to propose an entire other gender (as opposed to a twist on a current one) I don't see what isn't there in the labels currently. And you can pick two of these labels from the category and combine them; that's two labels, that's all, to describe how you identify. I fail to see what's lacking from this system. I understand that people's attitudes towards some of the identities are problematic, but that's a different issue entirely.
But, as I said, I cannot force people to accept labels, if they don't want to, then they don't have to. We discussed the power of words, and why the department calls itself the 'queer department' as opposed to LGBTIQA, which admittedly is a little cumbersome. I don't like the word 'queer', simply because its definition is 'unusual' and I like to think it's my personality that sets me apart, not my sexuality. And what was odd was that someone who identified as 'queer' actually asked me 'well, who's to say what's normal'? Well, you're denoting everyone else as normal by declaring yourself queer; you're defining yourself in opposition to them.
Of course, being on the left, we are not allowed to tell people how to act or get cross when they don't agree with us, so we were all very polite and careful not to offend. I don't know if I'll go back, because although some of the people seemed cool, I don't know if I'm particularly interested in discussing queer theory. Or 'not heteronormative theory' if we're being blunt.

Sunday 9 September 2012

Dinosaurs on a spaceship, snakes on a plane, freshers on my turf

If my calculations are correct, which is by no means certain, Edinburgh Freshers' week began this weekend (a quick google confirms this).
I'm trying to work out what I'd be doing were I still in Edinburgh; no doubt part of me would be tempted to repeat my actions of the previous Freshers' week, where I tried to reinvent myself by attending all manner of different events, including, *shudder*, a bingo night, before returning, somewhat gingerly and with my tail firmly between my legs, to Bedlam.
You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.
Of course, it's impossible to know what I'd be doing, as I would've acted differently towards the end of last term if I'd thought for a second that I'd be coming back. I probably would've tried to put a play on during Freshers' week, and maybe auditioned for one of the plays already on, or maybe I would've even waited to put on TWWOO until this semester. I wouldn't have spoken to some people so frankly, and I also wouldn't have buried the hatchet with some people (I'm looking at you, Gem).
I'd have most likely spent the summer in Edinburgh, so maybe I would've suffered a relapse to the state I was in last July. Or maybe I would've risen triumphantly above the black dog like a phoenix (anyone else flashing back to Harry Potter?).
Above: my (hypothetical) summer.
I'd go and watch Becky perform stand-up and Daniel perform Blue Room (this is the thing I'm most sad about missing.)
Imagine this in a sex play.
I'd maybe staff at Bedlam a few times, try and get to know some of the newbies- there'd be numerous trips to Doctors, no doubt, and a bit of mythicising those who'd have departed (I've decided in this alternate reality that Esmond also didn't leave, so the whole ladies' man thing didn't come into play).
Dreammaker, heartbreaker.
I'd have fish pie at Teviot, and meet with Bammers and Henriette and talk about what we did all summer, and I'd hang with Luci and Bryn and feel awkward as they lit up and started getting all metaphysical. I'd have hot chocolate with Freya and discuss Lord knows what.
And then a black hole would open up over Edinburgh and everything I know would be consumed by the void. Because, after all, this is all postulation and furthermore, is completely useless because I'm not there, I'm in Melbourne and besides, Freshers are all mistakes. Filthy, nasty things. Glad I never was one.

Of course, I also can't help looking forward a year and trying to imagine how I'll act during my fourth (God, that's too many) Freshers' week. Maybe during final year I'll finally have figured it out and I'll be cool as Corbin, taking in the sights but not getting unnecessarily agitated over little things of no significance. Somehow, I doubt it.

Hammered, Tanked, Wasted, Plastered, Canned, Sloshed, Housed, Juiced Up & Crocked

Dear reader, I know you hold me up as a paragon of virtue and decorum. I know that what you are about to read will destroy your faith in humankind, ie. me. But I must be honest with you, reader, otherwise this entire blog is just a pointless exercise in onanism for me.
And none of us want that.
So, I'll level with you, reader, treat you like an adult and tell you things that I hope you're mature enough to understand.
I got absolutely wasted last night.
Not quite as wasted as this.
I wouldn't normally use 'wasted' when I can still, with relative confidence, remember what happened the previous night. And I can. Every. Sordid. Detail.
Allow me to set the scene; it's Milly's birthday today and she decided to host a party in her parents' house, about an hour and a half away from Yarra, as Kookaburra flies. I drove up with Aspen, Manthy, Jason and Smeargle, and we were all pretty tightly packed into the back (Manthy gets carsick and so got to sit in the front.)
It was hot and uncomfortable, but I was excited and we passed the time playing twenty questions (we all got stumped over Michael Caine, who, did you know, has won an oscar? Smeargle did.)
Suave mother, ain't he?
Anyway, we arrive, after a minor drama over a tollroad and the accidental taking thereof, and pile into 'the unit' (a second building built on the main land of Milly's house) where the party was to take place. We settled in, watched a little TV, snooped about the house and then the business of presents began. I read Milly  the poem I wrote (an acrostic), Aspen and Smeargle gave her drawings, Logan got her a USB, Alec got her Fifty Shades of Grey and Cass got her a potato. I believe it was around this time I took my first drink; I'd purchased some vodka with cranberry (40%) and Manthy was kind enough to give me some raspberryade with which to to mix it.
Above: my bloodstream, last night.
I was drunk within minutes, and I don't mean tipsy, I mean drunk. There's a video of me singing along to Nelly Furtado's I'm like a bird from about twenty minutes after this drink. I was the first one drunk and I don;'t know why cos it took me about two hours to get drunk after TWWOO, and a lot more vodka (I remember I was halfway through the bottle when it was pointed out I was even heavier on my feet than normal- I'd had maybe a quarter of a bottle when I was three sheets to the wind last night.)
Can you tell?
All I could do was be thankful that I was happy, TWWOO drunk Rory and not miserable, Bedlam drunk Rory. I participated in all the games, danced, sang, made people laugh and was generally agreed to be the life and soul of the party; some people, notably Adrian with whom I duetted on Circle of Life (lifting Jason as an impromptu Simba) and Cee Lo Green.
I see you driving 'round town with the girl I love!
Sadly, it wasn't all sweetness and light- I managed to smash a glass with my bare hands (but didn't cut myself)- just by banging on the side of it, in the manner of a speech. Luckily, I wasn't the only one and I did learn my lesson and managed to avoid punching the TV placed precariously against the dancing wall. I did start to sober up shortly after this incident, and decided I didn't want to face the rest of the party sober, knowing what I'd done (it was about ten o'clock at this point); so, I deliberately re-intoxicated myself.
Really didn't take that long.
This might have been a bad thing to do, having already broken something in my drunken state, but I find it hard to regret, since I went right back to singing, dancing and generally living it large.

Large and in charge.
I remember drunk pass the parcel, with questions instead of prizes, and how I fashioned a hat and gloves out of the discarded newspaper (after building myself a nest).

Made from 100% recycled materials.
During this game, Ellie said she wanted me as her child; I was also declared most likely to appear of Sixty Minutes (a news talk show) and go to jail, so I had to do two dares: one tell a story about someone in the room (I chose to make Martin a fairy princess of Oz) and do an interpretive dance entitled 'the death of the butterfly', which I'm really hoping wasn't filmed. This was filmed, for some reason:

There was a Milly trivia round, where I insisted we be called 'the Periwinkles', still not sure why, pizza, which I devoured and with which I managed to avoid a hangover (in the stead of weetabix, see) and a deep, meaningful conversation with Logan and Jason where I opened up about my depression last summer.
All in all a really enjoyable night in a part of Australia I hadn't seen before (Check out 'The Mornington Peninsula' page for photos taken from my walk there this morning, WARNING: there are a lot of photos).