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.

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).

I look like I'm on a stamp

Courtesy of Smeargle, a dignified picture of me (for once):

Look at my cold, lifeless eyes.

I may well use this as my profile pic on dating sites: I'd tap that.

The Four H's

Before coming here, I had to attend a lecture wherein I was told that I would go through the four stages of exchangeitude, called the four H's, these were:

• Honeymoon period- where everything is great, all the songs on the radio are about you and you're getting near constant lovin' (mom, dad please stop reading)
• Homesickness- you start to miss your friends, family, more reasonable prices, less noisy birds, more comprehensible accents, shorter games of cards, properly labelled Rice Krispies...
• Hostility- this university is silly, why can't they do more like Edinburgh does? I mean, that's the better system, clearly, so just stop being so contrary, Australia and just do what we tell you!
• Happiness- ok, it has its flaws, but at least there are no squirrels to worry about. I'm content.

I don't know which H I'm in- obviously, I'd like to say happiness, but I don't remember going through hostility ('cepting X-bar, but that's hardly Melbourne-specific), and I'm definitely not homesick (see below), meaning I must be in the Honeymoon period. This is worrying because it means all that other stuff's still to come. I can't imagine what I'll get homesick over (the last time was my bathtub), because I've pretty much replaced all my friends- I just need a Rik and a proper Daniel (Darryl has an accent, but that's pretty much where the similarities end). And hostility seems outlandish- I love it here! The lectures are more engaging (yet again, barring syntax), the campus eateries are more varied...writing this out has made me realise I am definitely in the honeymoon period. Well, damn. However, this does have an upside- I should have a bit of honeymoon left when the Pliant one begins his, meaning I won't feel miserable by comparison. Huzzah.

Quick side note: I skyped the 'rents yesterday, and it was exactly the same conversation we have when I talk to them back home: my mom worries I'm not getting out enough, my dad worries I'm spending too much and they both agree I don't contact them enough. If I'd recorded the conversation and bleeped out proper nouns (oh god, I'm flashing back to X-bar) it would have been indistinguishable from the dozens of other times I've skyped them. But, more to the point, we hadn't spoken for 34 days, and the conversation lasted 47 minutes. My mother said she felt it lasted long, but that it was only because we hadn't spoken for so long. By this mathematics, my mom wants us to talk for 98 seconds every day. Half that, and you've got yourself a deal, mother.
Of course, I shouldn't be so harsh, they are, after all, paying for me to be here (mum's defense, not mine). This, however, will not stop me being so harsh. Huzzah.

A thousand words

Just a quick note to say some of you (like, two out of four) might have noticed that my profile pic has changed twice in the last day. The first change was to the infamous Rowden White sign, seen here:

Ladies.

Whilst I do adore this sign and all it represents, I cannot claim to have had any part in its production; I took the photo (cue swoons), yes, but the central joke is not mine. And so I felt bad flaunting it (this is also why I changed from my original pic, which I also adore, but which was made by the lovely Rosie Curtis). The new pic was not drawn by me, but is a picture of me, sketched by Darryl (who you may remember from my initial rec room 2 post- I don't think he's shown up since). You can see a larger version here:

A commemorative, non-olympiad stamp.

I feel it's ok to display this because while I didn't create it, I was the muse and thus contributed to its creation.

This note ended up not being that quick.

Postera Crescam Laude

I have given into temptation and bought one extra-large, navy blue hoody with the university of Melbourne logo proudly brandished across it. The pricetag was kinda scary- $100!- but my mother said she’d pay for me to get one, so I’m trying to see past that. I am painfully aware that in two years I will most likely purchase an Edinburgh equivalent and thus my collection will be complete.

Hoody aside- it’s too warm to wear it- I am very sorry for not having updated y’all (I know for a fact that both Spanish Daniel and my parents are reading this, and so it’s ‘y’all’ and not ‘you both’) since Saturday, but in my defence, I have new friends now and y’all seem kinda dull by comparison.

Yes, O-week, the exchange students’ freshers week, has begun and has bought with it the chance to talk to people without seeming precocious. So far, I’ve met Will, who I’m seeing as the Universe’s way of balancing out Esmond’s infidelity as he’s from McGill, Jason, a quiet home-schooled New Jersey-ite, Daryll, a Korean illustrator and fellow nerd, Clara, a contemplative Spanish biologist and Bastian, who’s Dutch and that’s all I really know about him. In terms of actual ozzies, there are Logan and Aspen- who I feel have to be mentioned together, so inseparable are they- Victoria, Elle and Ben. I don’t really know any of these people tremendously well, but they are at least people who I can count amongst my acquaintance and speak to of an evening. It seems the place to go in the evenings is the second floor rec room, there to be found are assorted nerdly activities like playing playstation 3, monopoly, minecraft, magic: the gathering or trying to solve the tetris cube.  It’s noisy but friendly, and I’m working up the courage to step in there on my own one of these days.

As to the events themselves, they’re rather self-conscious, but can be quite fun. There was a poorly-thought through scavenger hunt which wended too far from the building and that no one really completed follow by a barbeque which everyone without fail completed. There was the casino royale night, which boiled down to one in ten people in suits, playing poker, dissolving quite early but leading into another night in the second floor rec room. Then last night there was ‘christmas in July’, which frankly was just an industrially cooked roast dinner in the cafeteria with some Christmas decorations put up. I’d love to say that by leaving at 7.30 I was ducking out early, but I was one of the last to leave. I was really tired so I skipped the rec room and went to bed. There’s nothing on tonight, as far as I’m aware, but I’m hoping I’ll find some activity to latch onto, as I finished my book today and if I start another one tonight I’ll feel like a harlot.

One phenomenon I need to remark upon is that old people feel they can eavesdrop on one’s conversations and then give their revered opinion- it happened to Jason and me on the bus yesterday and Emma, Esmond and me a couple of weeks ago and I only mention it cos they’re discussing spiderman at the next table and I really want to weigh in, but I can’t cos I still have all my original teeth and they’ll (justly) think I’m rude and weird. Alas.

Is there anything else to say? Um. I’ve been passing my days by going into the uni campus and should really start venturing out to the rest of the city soon- I did go to a pawn shop and Aldi with my yarra friends yesterday, but that doesn’t feel adventurous and I can’t imagine why. Once I find someone to explore the city with, hopefully, I’ll have more to write about and I’m also looking into finding some way of taking photos. Watch this space.