It's Later Now

So, Aussie Rules is finished, and, with it, the penultimate stage of my time in Oz. We are not entering the final chapter of my time here (I was gonna use the final chapter title from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz as the title for this post, but that's Home Again, which doesn't really suit this post, and the chapter before that is the rather esoteric (and spoilerish) Glinda the Good Witch Grants Dorothy's Wish, so I'll have to come up with something on my own). Granted, I have two assignments, one test and one exam to go before I'm done with uni, but I saw Aussie Rules as the last bastion of mid-exchange-year-Rory, a lad who could still sleep in if he wanted to, or take on a show, after all he'd have time later to see Oz- well, It's Later Now (ok, title found).
To mark this occasion, I have booked my tickets for New Zealand, and, even more excitingly, shaved my face. Yes, I took the advice of that drunk lady on the train and got a hair cut. Just not on my pate. I have a few other plans for my time here (hopefully Uluru and more penguins).

Ladies. 

Aussie Rules went very well; my hats off to Andrew for pulling off the frankly bizarre idea he pitched to me all the way back in October ('No, see, cos football is Islam...'). I had some one thank me personally for my performance and say he'd come specifically to see me (having been bowled over by me in Confetti and Everything) and honestly this was a lot more pleasant than the fan I had in Edinburgh, who walked up to me in the middle of the meadows and whispered 'multim olim' in my ear AT ONE IN THE FUCKING MORNING. But, yes, Aussie Rules was a success, and I'm proud to have it as my final impression upon the melbourne acting scene (though not the theatre scene in general- hello, BESTies).
Speaking of theatre, it was over two weeks ago, but I needs must mention the Amadeus pre-show sing-off. If only because I got to fulfill my dreams of singing 'American Pie', 'Moonriver', 'Blue Moon' and 'Mr. Sandman' before an extremely captive audience. Also, on the final night I did what can only be called an astonishing rendition of the song below.

Let that image burn into your retinas.

In other news, I skyped with Esmond on Friday, and it was lovely: we spoke for two and a half hours, and despite ten months apart, we still fell into conversation so easily. It's nice to know I'll have at least one friend when I return to the Great Wet North (I thought of that on Wednesday and by God, I'll get the mileage out of it).

In other other news, it was Victoria's birthday last Saturday, and, wouldn'tcha know, she had a sci-fi party, so naturally....

The very definition of a coquette.

What? You can't guess? I'm Poison Ivy from Batman and Robin. Duh. I mean, the hair's a little off, and I've really made no effort at all apart from holding a plastic flower and wearing a Batman-related T-shirt, but I think everyone can agree I've adequately captured the campy awfulness of that film.
The party was a lot of fun, and I got to see Victoria's assorted friends, probably for the last time before I head off; as Ryan North is wont to say, 'partying is such sweet sorrow'.

Last night was Eurovision here in Ozland, and, much like with the Olympics, I found myself the token pom in a group of Aussies watching something distinctly English. I got a lot of mileage out of the fact that no one gave us any points (it's all political, I tell ya), but I didn't realise how seriously the Antipodeans take the damn thing. Everyone, that is, except the closed captions guy, who added such delightful additions as 'you can guess what she said' and 'what's she gonna do with flowers? Put them down.'
Victoria, Aspen, Michael and myself were enraptured by the cheesiness, and I found Aspen's knowledge of past contestants to be vastly superior to my own, which isn't actually saying all that much, but she remembered 'I'm in love with a fairytale', which I only recall because it was the night I came out. Funny old world, innit?

Finally, when I was crossing the road this morning, my hood slipped (yes, it's finally started raining in Oz- laugh it up, Edinburghers), and when I lifted it, there was a car right in front of me. It was really very terrifying. I also realised I hadn't updated this thing in ages and I didn't want to die without you guys having heard my inane prattle for a month! Hence, this post.
Blame the hood.

The most easter(n)ly break yet

Wow, what a break!
This was my fourth consecutive easter away from home (I know, I know, I'm such a rebel) and probably the most jam-packed that I can remember.

On Good Friday, Victoria, Michael and I went to the Melbourne Aquarium (Michael was the host of the Australia Day barbecue I attended, and also Aspen's sweetheart); I always enjoy aquariums and zoos- there's just something about watching animals that I find incredibly interesting, even when they're not really doing anything.

I swear to God I stared at this thing for ten solid minutes, waiting for it to move.

Also, there were PENGUINS! And there's even something called 'the Penguin Passport' where you can ENTER THE MOTHERFUCKING PENGUIN ENCLOSURE!!!!!
So, yeah, that's happening.

On Sunday, we had an easter egg hunt, which was so well thought through that half the eggs weren't even found and, to my knowledge, there are still some to be claimed. Victoria and I also teamed up for an egg and spoon race, and came second, but only because I wasn't allowed to use my pasta spoon, which is, apparently, 'cheating'.

The next day, I travelled to Somers to stay at Maddi's (one of the B.E.S.T.ies) summer house for a couple of days. It was totes sweet: we swam, played pictionary (I won), Smart ass (I won) and Jenga (I toppled it and thus, you guessed it, won), had fires on the beach (which is illegal, so if anyone asks we sat on the beach at night in a rough circle around a patch of sand). But the best part is that Laura and David declared their love for one another while I was trying to sleep- I just love being friends with couples.

I stayed at Maddi's until wednesday, then returned for an evening Amadeus rehearsal.

The next two days were spent rehearsing Aussie Rules, during which I learnt some yoga positions and got to practice dying in other people's spotlights, both of which are, I think, skills entirely transferable to the workplace.

Then, on Friday evening, I travelled to an Amadeus rehearsal camp in the most cineliterarily named town I've ever encountered- 'Rosebud' (I really wanted to patronise the Rosebud cinema, but sadly did not get round to it.)
'Rehearsal camps' are apparently a not uncommon thing at Melbourne Uni (and, I think, Australian theatre in general), but I had never heard of one before. From my direct experience, they involve: acting, singing, alcohol, photoshoots, improvisation, king's cup, alcohol, would you rather?, truth or dare, alcohol and lots of conversation about the Amish. I can only assume that this is typical.
I also got to go for a quick dip in the sea in between run throughs, meaning I swam in the sea twice in a week when there's still snow on the ground back home. This is my life now.

There are two superlatives connected to this easter break: it was the week I spent least time on the internet in at least five years, as neither Maddi's house nor the Rosebud brothel had internet, so for four days out of nine I didn't log on at all.
It was also the holiday where I drank the most, with another four days ending in tipsyness. Progress. 

But all good things must come to an end and I am now back in the world of schoolery: I have an assignment due on Thursday and have just recieved inspiration for a possible linguistic study in the future. Fun times?

Demonstra-babble

So, I haven't updated y'all in a while, and quite a lot has happened in that time.
No, really. Some of it would have merited blog posts of its own.

So, we had a punch party.
Everyone dressed up (Martin went for a Sound of Music feel- Lord knows why). And the punch was non-alcoholic so I definitely did not get tipsy and fall asleep in the midday sun, only to be woken by the nudging of a passing stranger's foot. There was also a bocce tournament, and I am assured that I was amazing, as I threw the ball the furthest, which is surely the point of bocce.

I also met with Charlotte for coffee, who pointed out that I overuse the word 'demonstrable', causing me to move on to the word 'emphatically'. Who knows what my buzzword will be when I kick the 'emphatically' habit- previous addictions include 'ostensibly' (brought to my attention by Chaz), 'obtuse' (Aspen) and 'appreciative' (Esmond).

I've also been to two plays with Andrew recently: Gaybies- verbatim interviews with the children of gay parents staged with panache, flair and pizazz, and with Geoffrey Rush in attendance (yeah, I was standing a foot away from Lionel Logue)- and Act A Lady, which was akin to an Almodovar film being staged as a pantomime (yes, it was that bizarre). Act A Lady really warmed my heart because it reminded me so much of the old boards I used to tread in Broseley, Wenlock and Horsehay; it was the first play I've seen in at least a year that wasn't a polished, big-budget, unsinkable whizzo affair. And that was good for me- the tech was minimal, the acting unaffected and the sets simple. I should see more theatre like that and remind myself what's possible even without money. 

In other news, I was nearly hit by a car (and I mean, really nearly- it was two inches away) whilst driving about with Victoria and Finny (who's a Doctor Who fangirl- yay!). This guy came out of nowhere and nearly smashed right into the side of the car I was sitting on. Luckily, Victoria swerved, because if she hadn't I would have been hit head on by a car because this guy was not stopping. I remember muttering 'Oh, God' and Finny screamed.
And then the guy had the nerve to beep at us. Asshole.

It was also Australia day on Saturday, and I drove with Aspen, Martin and Victoria to Aspen's hometown, (in the car on the way, ABBA's 'The name of the game' got stuck on repeat- I miss you, group 4 (except Joseph)), where her Dad was named 'Citizen of the Year', which was pretty cool. She got her picture in the paper, which was kinda cool. And there was free face painting, which was super awesome amazing.

Don't worry, it's gone now. By which I mean the beard, not the face paint.

We then went for a party at a friend of Victoria's, which was, quelle surprise!, a barbecue. It was very fun and I got to meet many colorful new characters, including a descendant of bigfoot.

The next day we went back to Victoria's, and there this happened:

 

Eat your heart out, Mary Poppins.

Pool Intentions/Crusty said yes is totally my new band name

I have just returned from a barbecue-cum-pool party at Milly's, and have a lovely case of sunburn to show for it (I promise I used suncream, mummy, but the water washed it off).

Yes, we spent the afternoon frollicking in the piscine (sea-water, not chlorine, don'tcha know?) and then had some lovely grilled meat. There is an Ozzie innovation which I really want to import to British swimming pools called 'whirlpooling'; basically, everyone runs a caucus race until the currents created cause everyone to trip up and be flung around wildly (someone has nearly drowned both times we tried it). I think the old public baths in Edinburgh could benefit enormously from adopting this activity, and it would mean fewer old people and children would show up to spoil everyone else' swimming experience, lest they get caught in the elliptical exodus.

On top of this, I stumbled upon a marriage proposal whilst returning from the city the other day: someone, nick-named 'J-lo', had written out an elaborate love note in chalk for their darling 'crusty' along their walk home (some of which corresponded with mine- I admit to taking a detour to read all of it), leading right to the front door, where I like to imagine J-Lo was waiting with champagne and 'kiss me' blasting on a stereo. I was going to film it and put it on here but a) I thought it was probably a personal thing and b) it was just too long for me to film on my phone- this thing was a friggin' love epic. Incredibly romantic and actually very well punctuated- I sure hope Crusty said yes, there's a keeper if ever I saw one.

Finally, Aspen and I visited the National Opal Museum on Tuesday, which for some reason was Dinosaur themed,

except for one part where there were loads of molluscs hot glued onto the wall (which I didn't photograph). Anyway, I'd love to say I now know more about Opals than anyone could ever possibly need but it really wasn't that informative.  If they weren't a museum, I'd say they just wanted to sell opals.

Chasin' Jason

So, Jason has left. This is saddening- but we must soldier on. We will reforge the shattered pieces into a glorious new jigsaw puzzle, one free of Jason and his incessant boasting of how much he has done with his life.

Right after two days of moping in bed.

'But, Rory!' You cry, spittle flying and a crazed look in your eye (my god, you do get passionate about these blog posts, don't you?), 'I wanna hear about Australian Christmas!' At this point, you stamp your feet and throw all your toys out of the cot because I haven't housebroken you properly. Well, fine, metaphorical baby readers, here's how christmas went down: on christmas eve, Jason and I attended a double bill of Shop Around the Corner and It's a Wonderful Life; we had to leave the second slightly early and so in my mind that film now ends with him committing suicide- I don't know why everyone calls it uplifting.

Pictures from the Astor, where we viewed this depressionfest.

Jason and I then returned home and drunkenly chatted with loved ones on the internet, and showed each other pictures of how we used to look (so much hair...*shudder*).
The next morning, Shane, Jason, me and some douche I've never met before had a barbecue for breakfast.

Not pictured: croissants in the conservatory.

There were sausages, sauce and bread. We'd hunted the bread ourselves, because we're MEN. During this time we tried to name all fifty states of the US because the brain can atrophy like any other muscle.

All that's left of the dropbears that jumped us during the bread hunt.

Then, the douche left, stung by his inability to remember New Hampshire, and the three real men sat down to smoke and ruminate. Not cigarettes, little one, my heavens no, but a hukkah pipe. It was really rather relaxing.

Jason's christmas hukkah.

After this, we watched some christmas movies, including Charlie Brown and, perhaps more bizarrely, Batman the Animated series, then Jason and I went for a walk, wherein we encountered a brown snake. Let me dictate for you how it went down:

JASON: (Thick Gloucestershire accent that is somehow at once both homely and grating) Oi'm not looking where I'm going, so oi'm no!

(The brown snake appears. Jason makes to step on it.)

ME: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!


(I dive between Jason and the snake, and, using my incredible kung fu skills, vanquish the fucker (the snake that is, not Jason))

JASON: Oi've never seen a snake trounced so thouroughly before! Neato!

Starring Rik Hart as the serpent.

Truly, I am both the st Patrick and the shakespeare of our time.

On Boxing Day, I saw the Hobbit, and honestly I was disappointed: they've turned what is an enjoyable fantasy heist movie into a bloated diatribe on what 'home' means. There's a lot to be enjoyed, but also a lot that could be cut.

Gandalf the grumpy.

Interestingly, I saw Les Mis and I would have much preferred for that to have been split into multiple films: or, even better, presented like an old film with an interval in between two two hour parts. So, essentially, a stage play on screen. Hmmm...

Then, on the 27th, I stayed up all night with Jason, wishing him farewell and then spent the next two days sleeping it off. Go me. I really will miss the blighter, and am now holding auditions for his replacement, but things aren't looking too swell on that front: I may have to wait til term begins anew. Which is in february. Alack.

P.S. I realise I still owe a Blank slate post and a 'the other stuff I did when I didn't post for ages' post, but hold your horses. They're coming.


Probably.
P.P.S. As of today, this trip is the longest I've ever spent away from home.

Tender Lumplings everywhere

Dear reader,

it's that time of year again, all hallow's eve. Or, more accurately, it was that time of year four days ago. But, better late than never, so I will display for you the assorted delights of the Yarra Becostumed Discotheque. I am, obviously saving the best for last, but I'll take you through the runners-up first, cos I'm a tease.

Jason as Dr. Lectre.

Cass as a vamp(ire).

Ellie as a fairy, Jason as an alchie and Cass as a nutjob.

Aiden as....himself but fat?

Shane as Bane Al Ghul.

Smeargle as Slender Man.

Aspen did not wear a costume.

Martin as his mother.

Manthy as Amanda Seyfried in Mean Girls. It's ironically skimpy, see?

Alec as an abortion doctor.

Milly as a nurse.

Logan as Not-Joker. 

Jason gives a lectre on the stupidity of having autumn  decorations up when it's spring in Australia.

The 'Pinata'.

Jess as Corpse Bride.

 Click 'Read More' below to see the bestest hallowe'en costume ever.

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.

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.

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).