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.

Hello from the future

It's five in the morning on July 13th here (my first real day in Australia is Friday the 13th, oh dear...). I have officially been beaten by jet lag, and cannot get back to sleep; my current plan is to exit yarra ASAISA (As Soon As Is Socially Acceptable), and go explore the city, taking time to do all those jobs one must do once one moves- open a bank account, get a new mobile, acquire some friends.
Ah yes, the eternal search for companionship. Once I'd finally settled in, had the tour and unpacked (I am now the sort of person who unpacks- deal with it), I was faced with a choice; either try and get some sleep, or go out there and meet my new comrades. Now, bear in mind I'd been travelling for 36 hours and had slept an estimated 6 hours during that time. I'll admit it, I was irritable. I was scared of what I might say, and how this may affect future friend-making. Case in point: I had gotten the 546, as instructed, but did not alight at the correct stop. *cue sad trumpet* I crossed the road to the bus stop opposite, where the same bus would pick me up and take me in the opposite direction. Soon after, a woman plodded up and I promptly asked her the time, she gave it to me, and then I foolishly asked her directions to Yarra house, lest I should be able to walk. She had never heard of such a place, but told me she thought the bus driver would have.
Forty or fifty times.
Not in a row, you understand, but interspersed with telling me her family history (no joke, one time her dad delivered furniture to Buckingham palace) asking me which suburb I wanted to go to, and interrogating me as to which university I was attending (she herself was a LaTrobe graduate). These conversational curiosities also bore repeating, in her eyes.
I nearly punched her.
She was the most insipid woman I had ever met, to paraphrase Austen, and I am not Elizabeth Bennet, I am not Emma Woodhouse and I am certainly not Fanny Price (heh heh, Fanny). Now, as anyone who knows me will attest, I am the most sweet-natured and kind soul you will ever meet- but beneath that burns a fire, which takes very little kindling to reach white hot terminal combustion. And this woman was piling on the logs like there was no tomorrow. She is lucky to be unharmed.
So, clearly I was in no state to meet my new best friends for life, and I decided to nap before heading for the trenches. I slept for four hours and then set off to the games room. Empty. I tried the recreation room. Empty. The kitchen? Empty.
I returned to my room, trod down the growing feeling I was going to be alone for a year, and circled back upon myself, where I found a man sitting in the games room. Success? I wish. The man was not unfriendly, don't get me wrong, but he was very happily watching TV and didn't need a new English friend. He asked the room at large (there was someone else there, asleep) what we wanted to watch, and, since it was on, I suggested the film 'Hanna'. This somewhat reminds me of the time I tried to seduce someone by showing them 'Batman Returns'.

Ladies.

This is not to say Hanna is a bad film, but it does not generate discussion- it's just too bizarre. The only thing one can think of saying is 'wha-huh?' Especially if you haven't seen it before. Alack.

So, once the film ended, I shot the man a smile and retreated to my room. I woke up four hours later, and broke a glass I had on my bedside table. Smooth. 

So, in conclusion, I've had 14 hours' sleep over the past three days, I broke the glass I was so kindly given by the RA, I've failed to meet anyone and I'm on course to live some kind of nocturnal existence while here. But, not for me the furrowed brow, tomorrow I can woo them all with my James Bond-style charm. Watch out Oz, the British are coming.

P.S. On the second leg of my journey, I was once more sat behind a baby, who screamed his lungs out the entire time. Guess how many mommies he had? That's right, only one. Give it up, breeders, gaybies are just better.

Plane-talkin'

I currently sit in the free wifi lounge of Seoul international airport, South Korea. This is officially the farthest I've ever been from 'home', wheree'er I choose that to be, the first time I've been out of Europe, the first time I've been to a country where I speak literally none of the language (I think 'Incheon' means 'Seoul', but personally I think it sounds like a new pokemon).
On the flight, I was seated in the mid-row seat, right behind a baby, so, as you can imagine, I was in for a fun ride. Except, neither proved an issue- the woman to my left was very talkative, but not overly so; she was also quite picky with her food, so I got two cakes and an extra omelette at breakfast (I had to choose between pre-made omelettes and pre-made porridge; is there no god?!); I don't think the man to my right spoke English, but he didn't get huffy when I accidentally elbowed him so I've decided I liked him. The baby was actually a delight- only two short bursts of tears, quickly allayed by one of her mothers (I took her stoic silence as conclusive proof that gay parents raise the best kids) or one of the stunningly beautiful women who sashayed up and down the aisles, bows in hair and water jugs in hand. They really were very acommodating- as far as I was aware, I was the only one awake on the plane at one point and one of them still thought to come and offer me refreshment. The in-flight movies were also not to be sniffed at- I caught up with The Lorax, Wrath of the Titans and Friends with Kids, so I'm pretty solid for next year's Oscars, I imagine. The one problem was, as previously alluded, I Could Not Sleep.
It was frustrating.
I was too hot.
I was too cramped.
I was too vertical.
I wanted to find out if the Lorax ever restored his beloved forest.
Kay, a creative writing teacher at Warwick University, who also happened to be the woman to my left, dozed off as soon as she wished. Same story with the wee bairn in front of me. Just like in Sleeping Beauty, I watched everyone else fall into a deep and magical sleep whilst I stared at what I presume is the Korean for lavatory. Then I played Pac-man, but the controls didn't work. Then I played Street Fighter but I always sucked at that game, so I gave up. I have some sleeping pills (sadly inaccessible during the last flight, which I have now stuffed into my trouser pocket, so hopefully the next journey will not expand my filmic horizons so broadly but will leave me feeling less like a punching bag with a bladder problem. But I may stay up to watch  the last five minutes of Friends with Kids, sadly stolen by the inconvenience of landing- I really hope Julia and Jason get together- they've earnt it.