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.

Diary of a call girl

'Twould seem a first is going to be broached while in Oz-land; I have gained my first proper, salaried job.

Laying the foundations for my future. Get it?

I've had jobs before, obviously- I was the longest serving paperboy the Shropshire Star ever had, thank you very much- but this is my first adult job in that I will be paid a fixed salary and will be working for predetermined shifts (the paper round took me between forty five minutes and two and a half hours- depending on how much I let the OAPs talk at me).

When he started talking he was just a joey.

I imagine this is going to be one of those facts about me that I think are fascinating but never seem to hold the same amount of interest for anyone else. If I read in one of Stephen Fry's autobiographies that his first salaried emploi was antipodean in nature, I would have given a 'huh' or a 'fancy that' (I don't think anyone from Cherry Orchard is reading this, but if you are, that was for you); for some undiscernible reason, I do not hold the same sway as Mr. Fry. Alack.

 I can't possibly imagine why.

If you're interested (or, like Daniel, are merely pretending to be interested out of a misplaced sense of gratitude), I'll be conducting telephone surveys for a living. Just like Phoebe in that friends episode. No, wait, she was selling toner. No...no I can't think of anyone who conducted telephone interviews in fiction; I guess I'll be the first. Ever.*

This has been a year of many firsts.

Of course, having a salary does change the dynamic of this year: if I'm thrifty, I could maybe stay longer; if not, I'll at least have more money to blow on luxuries. Yes, believe it or not, this development could end up extending my stay a further month and a half- my visa isn't up until August 30th. Sadly, my ticket runs out mid-July; I'd can't ask my parents to pay for another ticket just so I can have more jollies, but if I can afford a ticket myself, then there's no guilt attached. It could also mean more travelling (because more money), and will hopefully help stem the holiday blues a wee bit (because something to do). Yes, the implications are endful. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. We still need to last the first day.

*That's right, Logan, I went there. Whatcha gonna do about it?

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).

Farthers day

So, in the end I went to bed like a loser but woke up like a winner: to a breakfast of crumpets and an episode of Doctor Who.

MAS-TIC-ATE!
(Having watched last night's episode, I realise this looks less like a Dalek eye-stalk  than I thought. Alack.)

This was a very good start to the day, by anyone's standards. 'Cept maybe Manthy's- chick's allergic to wheat. *cough*loser*cough*

I then went on to complete an assignment which had been looming over me like a particularly academic albatross. I had Aspen proof-read before submitting it for assessment, and I feel we grew closer as friends because of it.

Your days are numbered, Logie Bear.

I then went for a delightful traipse around the park in the sunshine while discussing what I should do for my 21st; the top suggestion was the beach and a bush walk, and maybe camping- you know, true Aussie stuff.

This was the runner-up suggestion.

Don't worry, Dan, the brothel is still under consideration as well. Especially if it's an aussie-themed brothel.

I just wanted to use this picture again. Sorry for the implication, Patten.

Also, happy father's day, dad- apparently it happens in September here.

Two drifters, off to see the world

Another piece of evidence that the Rowden White natives are starting to accept me as one of their own: I was given a free mars bar with my headphones and PC this morning. Spiffing.

I actually managed to beat someone at a sport this weekend- and not just anyone, either. It was Adrian, who owns multiple sports shirts (which somehow make him look kinda like the knave of hearts).

Go Dropbears!

Admittedly, the game was air hockey, which, granted, hasn't made it into the olympics quite yet, but I'm pretty sure it involves hand-eye co-ordination or something. So, go me.

This weekend also saw the largest party I have ever managed to gather for my evening constitutional; an entire six people! This was mainly due to the alcohol the other five had imbibed, which made the stroll feel a bit more like taking the family's pack of inebriated, hyperactive dogs for a walk, but it was still a pleasant evening.

The pliant one is now in the great white North, which feels odd. I was already half-a-world away from him, but now he's not even in the place I left him, not unlike my house keys; if I was to go back now, he wouldn't be there. I feel like Andy in Toy Story. I don't know why, cos that doesn't happen in those films. I just identify with him on a base level, I guess.

Above: Esmond and me, I guess.

Anyway, I'm now listening to 'When Somebody Loved Me' from Toy Story 2, and it's bumming me out so I'm gonna go. I have more adventures scheduled with the doctor this evening; let's hope it's more The Unicorn and the Wasp than Love and Monsters. 

There once was a man from Nantucket

My Australian friends took their first look at this little ol' blog of mine a couple of days ago and seemed to take it with good grace; I take this as a sign to continue updating in the relatively candid manner in which I have been doing.
So, to what has your beloved wizard been getting up, I hear you ask. Well, as those of you who follow my twitter will have heard, but probably not comprehended, I 'won free internet using my poetry'. Allow me to elaborate:

'Twas the night of the quiz night

And all through the house

The tension was palpable-

A fire that one couldn't douse

We split into teams, and

Oh me oh my

Two teams wanted a piece

Of the old wizard pie

I had to decide

Between my fellow exchangers

and the rec room 2 crew,

to whom I wasn't a stranger

I chose rec room 2

Since I wanted to seem

Like a genuine Australian

Like one of the team

The prize was quite good;

An internet bundle,

worth thirty five dollars-

It merited a trundle

The competition was fierce,

And I answered a few,

But the exchangers were on fire

And there was little we could do

The foreigners won, 

and my team came third-

For this we got nothing,

Which I felt was absurd

The prizes rewarded;

But there were bundles to spare,

They could still be won

In a classic talent fair

Four of us stood,

Determined to please,

The contest began

When a girl walked on her knees

Both Shane and Logan

Elected to quote

Their beloved Game of Thrones,

Which they've both learnt by rote

But Shane sadly faltered,

His tongue got most tied,

Logan breezed on,

Took it all in his stride

I was next to the bat,

I looked at them all,

Then launched into 'chickens',

And left them in a thrall

It was time for the judging-

"Cheer for your fave!"

They read out my name

And the sound roared like a wave

I couldn't believe it!

My fortunes reversed!

Where once I was a loser

Now I was first

I was elated

As ever I was

Certainly a victory

For the wizard in Oz

And that's how it happened. They like me, they really like me!

What else? Well, I've just come back from a trip to the 'mana bar' (a videogames bar) and a club with the rec room 2 crew. I also went to a hipster bar with Manthy and Milly on thursday; I quite liked it, since the music was halfway decent, even if the drinks were overpriced- however, I don't think it was quite what the two Ms were wanting. I'm also really enjoying my classes at present- all my lecturers are engaging, and the courses they're teaching are really quite interesting. We were talking in Language, Society and Culture about how 'no homo' has allowed young men to express their feelings without being seen as gay (finally!), and Second Language Teaching has been telling me about behaviourist theories and Language Acquisition, which I've always enjoyed. Even Syntax hasn't gotten onto X-bar theory yet, though I'm not hopeful for when the shit hits the fan.
So far, Australia's pretty fly.

It's delovely

So O-week is over and today I started classes. I was in a game of assassins where I lasted a day before I was ousted by a team-up of Logan and someone I've never met before named Dan (who masqueraded as my target, James). Goddamn. All in all it was a successful week, I feel: I made some friends, had some laughs, got some free food and managed to assuege the gnawing solitude I'd been feeling at the bottom of my stomach. Worth the $35, I feel.
Of course, now the real work begins in the form of lectures- I started off with syntax, which is never a good sign and he mentioned X-Bar theory which is ALWAYS a bad sign, but it was mainly an introductory lecture, telling us where fire exits were and who to talk to if our Grandmother dies, etc. The jury's still out, but this is my third time trying to conquer the cold, cruel climate that is syntax and I hope to Helena that third time's a charm, lest I end up feeding myself to a croc. I have another lecture in two hours, which will no doubt be another introduction, but is on a subject that actually piques my curiosity, so my spirits remain elevated for the time being.
What else bears reporting? Hmm. My laptop charger is broken (again) so I'm writing this from the Rowden White Library, which I can't help but feel is a wee bit bohemian. You're allowed to sleep here, should you wish, and they're playing snow patrol, and, shock horror, the librarian's hair is dyed a non-natural colour, so I'm half-expecting to be called a nark any moment.
In terms of typical aussie animals that I've glimpsed, I can add kookaburra and possum to my bingo card, the former gossiping and guffawing around a birdbath and the latter staring down at me from a tree late on friday night. Quite unnerving, actually. I'm also encroaching on two weeks without facebook, which I feel is impressive, as the entire earth is geared towards it, it would seem. (Seriously, my lecturers are encouraging us to use it.) I remain resolute, but I wonder how long this will last. Alack. Anyway, I want to go explore this new library I have found and people are glaring at me for having been on the computer this long. I think I just heard 'nark' being whispered somewhere.
The wizard is out.