Suma-ho!

The walk I just came back from read like a bad piece of fanfiction; Aspen started off by talking about how much everyone loves her, and how lame her best friend is by comparison. There were some pop culture references- "have you played the Pokemon PETA game?" "When will Blizzard make a Warcraft 4?"- which served no purpose other than to date the fic for anyone who reads it in two months' time. There was a section where we spoke about our feelings in overwraught language-" I think I want kids" "It's just so hard, you know, being this perfect?". There was even a really awkwardly shoe-horned in Chekohov's gun, when Aspen, for no reason, pointed out a random path and said "that leads up to my favourite restaurant", which came in handy to solve the completely contrived plot conflict- another key indicator of bad fanfic- which appeared when we got completely lost and had to clambour up a slippy hill in the rain, grabbing onto random weeds, which our scrambled brain kept on seeing as snakes; Aspen spotted the same path and managed to lead us back. And, of course, Jason delivered his catchphrase:

Neato!...Derp.

Honestly, my dialogue was handled well, it was extremely sharp and made me by far the most likable character in the history of ever, but apart from that it was overly long, kinda repetitive and just a bit...wet. (Get it?! cos it was raining!)

Working hard to get my fill, everybody wants my will

I had to do something unusual during training on Monday (no, not that, it's not that kind of call centre)- I had to decide where my 'super' would go if I didn't claim it before I died. This apparently refers to a superannuation fund, and I think it's like a pension- they were using lots of unfamiliar words like 'work' and 'standard'.
Anyway, I'm not gonna say who I decided to leave it to, but I want this on record- if they do get ahold of the money, then they have to use it to par-TAY. And I mean so hard it hurts. I want them to shave at least five years off their lifespan over the course of a Krazy (with a Kapital 'K') weekend, spent doing all manner of depraved things in which I can no longer partake. Game's on, Mr. Sage. Damn, gave it away.

In other news, training was alright, my co-workers seem cool, the job doesn't seem too difficult, but I imagine the first time I actually make a call to someone I'll freak out and end up insulting their mothers- true fact, this is how 90% of first conversations go with me.

We just had a meeting of the Blank Slate theatre company, of which I am the Producer; queue to the left for the casting couch. It was really fun; we played some games (name games are another facet of theatre that is universal), then we made some tableaus on the theme of 'connections' (honestly less wanky than it sounds). Hopefully, we'll be meeting weekly, and it'll be nice to get back into some theatre stuff- this has been my first semester without doing any plays at all, and I've missed the camraderie and sense of whimsy that accompanies the best productions; I've not missed the self-consciousness and irritation that accompanies not-so-good productions ('Alack! The Killer flees!' 'Killer fleas? Where?!). But I have a good feeling about Blank Slate; I have a lot of good feelings now-a-days.

Ice to meet you

I turned on the air conditioning last night. I felt bad (not just cos I didn't really know how to work it and ended up chilling my room to Morgue levels), I know there are horrid environmental impacts, but I was just so hot. It was giving me headaches. Sleeping with the window open is out since I've now had dreams where I've encountered a) spiders, b) rats and c) adders (why?) in my room, having let themselves in through the window. I'm still not sure if the spider one was a dream, which is concerning because the bugger was the size of my fist.

Meanwhile, my writing was compared to Joss Whedon, again. Someone in my writer's group compared my script to Buffy and I was over the moon. Sadly, it wasn't the doctor himself, but it was gratifying all the same.

You'll soon be mine, precious.

I met with Andrew again, and the theatre company (of which I'm secretary, don't you know?) has been officially created, so, yay! There was even a suggestion of putting something on; a very special something; something both ancient and modern all at once; something that has marked every single journey I've made since I started tertiary education. But more on that later. Or probably never.

I went back to Queery, and we discussed gender. It was...polite; I can't bring myself to 'interesting' or even 'informative' because we all just seemed to espouse different versions of 'gender is a spectrum' (is anything not a spectrum these days?) with a side order of 'aren't labels terrible?' (I kept oddly silent on this matter). As I've said, the people there seem cool, but I've found that trying to form a friendship with someone just cos you're both gay, or not heteronormative, in this case, doesn't really work. I'm sure I'd get along with these people if I met them in a different context, it's just that meeting in the queerspace dictates that we should talk about being queer, and I've been queer so long, it just no longer interests me.

Finally, I had a job interview yesterday- it was a group interview, which I'd never done before, and I was the best dressed there, which is also an unprecedented event, plus, I didn't make a tit of myself, which marks a turning point in human history, I think. Sadly, I was also the least experienced person there, so I'm not holding my breath- but, at least if I don't get the job I'll know it's not cos who I am but because of what I've done, or not, as the case may be and, in fact, is.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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).

A series of unfortunate events

I've just completed a syntax assignment; it might not have been pretty, it might not have been clever, but I got it in and that's what counts (that's what he said).

It felt odd to be doing an assignment and not complaining to Becky about it. In fact, I had to do the entire thing without any of the regulars (yet again, totally what he said); Becky going on about how she'll fail and spectacularly failing to fail, Rosie not starting until a month after the deadline and breaking her foot, James knowing all the answers and not telling me AND seeing a point to studying syntax and not telling me.
Yes, much like the final season of house, all the regular characters and their endearingly frustrating antics were gone, leaving only one incredibly grizzled, beaten man to try and solve yet another pointless and nonsensical mystery on his own and pulling the answer out of his ass at the last moment.

I totally just compared myself to Hugh Laurie.

Above: me. Definitely.

Doing a syntax assignment usually comes with a sense of camaraderie; we were all storming the beaches of futility together and even if we weren't enjoying ourselves (except for Jimmy boy, being the rough and tumble scot that he is), we were at least together. Now, it's just me: I did speak to some others in the class about the assignment, and even tried expressing my disdain for it, but either ozzies are much more studious than Brits or I was talking to the squares because they simply didn't get me.
Alack.
The only comfort is that Becky will have to do an assignment without me...whining. That'll show her?


It was also odd to not be on facebook during an assignment- just as workplaces have coffee breaks, assignments have facebook breaks; but, having kicked the metaphorical caffeine habit, I resorted to the much more productive les mis breaks, where I would watch the trailer for the upcoming film:

and then one of the songs, chosen at random from the jauntier numbers:

and I'd pantomime along. Of course, I had to be silent, still being in the Rowden White.

In my defense, it's a really good trailer, and the soundtrack is possibly the best of any musical ever. The sad thing is, this lead to me singing 'I dreamed a dream' to myself, and several accused me of wanting to be Susan Boyle.
Shame on them. This song existed long before the scotswoman claimed it as her signature, and I've had it stuck in my head (rotating with 'Kiss me' and Invocal's back catalogue) since I was in a production of this stirring show, what, eight years ago? Damn. Let's have a moment of silence for my adolescence, shall we?

Anyway, the outcome is I'm super-excited for the new Les Mis film and everyone in the Rowden White thinks I'm a loser, which I guess is better than narc.

In other news, after finishing the ordeal, an ordeal being the collective noun for syntax questions, I treated myself to some ice cream from the student union and then went and sat in the sunshine to enjoy it. As I merrily licked away at my treat (Oreo flavoured, you know) what should descend upon me but a dire raven?

Not pictured: The dire raven. P.S. Got to watch some of TWWOO to try and screencap the raven (failed miserably), but it still makes me so very happy to watch that video. I love you all, wherever you are.

This thing was huge; the ozzie everyman who happened to be sitting opposite even felt compelled to comment on it. It landed next to me, more vulture than bird, and set its beady eye upon me and, more importantly, my ice cream. And then this happened:

I jest. It flew off. But I was kinda concerned with said ozzie said, quite cheerfully, 'he'll 'ave your eye out, no bother'. Thanks. I really wanted to know that, mate.

And then, after finishing the ice cream, I treated myself to some democracy. Yes, I voted in the student elections. I'll spare you the tedium, except for one piece of trivia which I want to share: you weren't allowed to vote for the 'Queer Officers' unless you identified as queer. I have no idea how they planned to enforce this (penile pathismograph?), but it was there, written on the paper. Also worth noting: the woman on the desk told me that I should just skip the Queer officer page, as it wouldn't apply to me.
The Aussies really aren't that good at guessing.

Oh, and I almost forgot to mention, mis padres have been reading and accused me of poor mathematics; I claimed I was here for eight weeks on 30th August, and they said it was six. Well, sucks to be both of us, cos it's actually seven. The difference between you and me, dad? I don't use maths for my job. Learn to count.

Student Parties

And now we're going to discuss a genuine difference twixt the British and Australian education system (funny side story: my friend Anncy and the girl sitting in front of me right now are convinced the British school system is Hogwarts).

I before E, mudbloods. 

And by the 'British and Australian education system' I mean 'Edinburgh Uni and Melbourne Uni', and by 'Edinburgh Uni and Melbourne Uni' I mean 'the posters I ignore and the fliers I ignore'; the Melbourne Uni student government is run on parties.

And sadly I am not referring to bashes, hootenannies nor shindigs. I am referring to political parties.

The quarter practiced in the park

I find this extremely odd, coming from a system where (I believe) one votes in individuals. It also seems nonsensical, but that could just be because I'm not used to it.

Just how at first it seemed jarring when I posted this every damn where, but now you don't even notice.

It adds a new level of ridicule to an already deeply flawed system. Because now student politics, that of the 'more parties, fewer fees', is now party politics, that of the 'they're evil, I'm not'. I've been told how the other 'tickets' (because calling it a party would be too simple) are linked to this political party, support these atrocities and secretly want to bring down the system from within- no joke, someone actually said that to me.

If you ask me, the system needs taking down a peg.

If this all seems pointless, petty and infantile, that's because it is. People make too big a deal of student politics when it's not related to real politics; adding that dimension just gives people a license to get even crazier about it. It's silly and illogical and I think I have to take part in it, because voting is compulsory in Australia. If I don't, they'll come after me.

They're not exactly short on minions.

Also, interesting fact: liberal means conservative in Australia. This truly is the land where everything is upside down.