Soapbox

Yesterday, I visited the immigration museum. This in itself could merit a fine, if somewhat trite, blog post, because the museum is well put together, pleasingly designed and just plain interesting. It also had stuffed blackbirds in dickie bows:

You can't see it, but the sign pronounces that they're singing 'bye bye, blackbird', which is just the kind of inane detail I love in a museum. This was part of an exhibit about all the animals which were exported to Australia and also included artful arrangements of cockroaches:

The first one to say the guy in the reflection is a cockroach is a dead man,

 And rats:

It just needs Rik as a judge.

All of which is very charming and makes for a nice, if somewhat trite, anecdote. However, the main reason I wanted to talk about the immigration museum was because of the context in which I saw it: I had just read in The Age that Julia Gillard was going to continue to allow employers to discriminate against people because of their sexuality and that she had previously declared that she wouldn't be implementing marriage equality.
And then I came across this display:

Which is about one of Australia's first mixed marriages in Australia between a greek immigrant and an aboriginal woman. The sign talked about the difficulties they faced as a mixed-ethnicity couple but then concluded that this was no longer an issue, and that the term 'mixed marriage' isn't even used anymore because Australia's just so damn progressive when it comes to love.

Ahem.

And then there was this display: 

Which touches on Jewish immigrants, and says how they weren't really accepted until the holocaust made people realise that anti-semitism isn't cool. There were other minority groups exterminated in the concentration camps, you know.
And then the entire second floor was dedicated to diversity and how great it is. In the interest of fairness, there was one instance of the word 'queer', thrown in amongst a bunch of other slurs which we were told can cause offence.

As I said, the museum was engaging and well-designed; I just wasn't feeling it. I don't know if I'll come back to Australia in my later life, but I certainly wouldn't consider moving here until some serious progress is made vis-a-vis equality. However, if that progress is ever made, I should have no problem coming back, because the museum included a replica of the Australian citizenry test, and I passed with flying colours.

Also of note: this is the only museum to have ever made me feel sea sick.

Illiberal Arts

Have I ever mentioned how much I like animation? Especially animated feature films? Cos I do. Or, at least, I thought I did. Then I visited the Silver K Gallery in Armadale.

Where preconceptions die.

Don't get me wrong, the exhibit at the Silver K, which is an animation gallery, was lovely- but the amount of money that some people were willing to pay for cells of animation makes me realise that what I thought was a passion is, in fact, a mere passing fancy. 

Take for example this piece:

I feel this serves to obfuscate how dull some parts of both Sleeping Beauty and Fantasia are. Also, in case the staff of the silver K somehow find this blog, I did not take this picture, but found it on google.

You cannot imagine how much the colour pops in the original. It is just captivating. I stared for several minutes. Did I stare enough to be willing to pay $955? No, sir. No I did not.

But some one did. Cos that piece had been sold just this morning for that exact amount. The curator told me this with evident pity for me for having just missed out on this absolute steal in his voice and I lamented appropriately while inside I was reeling.

This was the essential problem I had with the Silver K gallery, which was otherwise a very pleasant viewing experience: they were obviously geared towards selling the pictures in their care, while I just wanted to observe them and  then leave (and possibly print out some flimsy, but cheap, paper copies later on), as I do at most galleries. I cannot afford art. This is why I have cut up comic books on my walls. Even though there was a concession price to enter the gallery, they evidently did not want student patrons. 

However, the art of Disney is so characterful that there was a lot to be got out of just looking at individual stills, and the concept art was fascinating: I wasn't allowed to take photos, but let's just say Ursula looked a lot different in the beginning. 

Anyway, if future generations of Melbourne Exchange students are reading this, I recommend the Silver K gallery to you: but maybe try dressing up like you're rich so they don't keep asking where you heard about them (they advertise on TV for heaven's sake.)

Book the 67th

There is no bookshop in Melbourne Central; this makes me very sad. What there is, however, is the littlest library, which makes me very happy indeed.

Sounds like something from Lemony Snicket.

The idea is very simple- you can take any book you like, no need for membership, and then just return it when you're done. Or, if you want to keep it, you can bring another book that you don't want anymore and do a cosmic balancing act.

I have no idea how many books are stolen every year from this place, but I think it's the name that makes it; you just can't disappoint something called the littlest library- it'd be like skinning a cat (naturally, you can disappoint the library in a multitude of ways). 

In other news, I should be working now, minx that I am.

The unbearable hotness of being

It's quite warm today: 30 degrees celsius, which is the inordinately high-sounding 86 degrees fahrenheit.
This is not unworkable heat- admittedly, it makes things more difficult, but I can still go about my business. This is, sadly, not the hottest it is going to get. I have heard differing accounts, but the range has been between forty and sixty degrees (I presume celsius, because otherwise...). If memory serves, which it doesn't always, the hottest I have ever experienced was forty five degrees in Fatima, Portugal. And that really was unworkable.
Honestly, I'm not surprised that people had 'visions' there; they were more than likely delirious from the heat. The thing I keep telling myself is that I have air conditioning in my room. This is all well and good, but what about when I want to leave my room? For example, if I go to work, or see a film, or just need to buy groceries? What then?
And, truth be told, I don't have an answer. I will just have to suffer through. Probably not in silence, as that's just not how I roll, but with what dignity I can muster. This will at least allow me to gage whether or not I can live in a hot climate in the future, but will probably also leave me dehydrated and grumpy. Alack.

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.

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.

Walking thru sunshine

I just had a most glorious walk to uni. The sun was out, the air was fresh and my music was playing. I walked through grass, through suburb, even through the Melbourne Museum (which I still need to check out).
I saw weird trees,

Happy tree, bridal tree, puppet tree...bicurious stump?

awesome graffiti

The new bad wolf?

and a hot guy sunbathing shirtless.

Sorry, Patten.

I even got to talk to Will, who I've not seen for a long time! We made merry, and I got to wish him a belated happy birthday (he's a virgo, you know.) I got to experience parts of the city I hadn't explored yet and remind myself I'm still a complete newcomer here.
If I had any niggles, it would just be that it took me TWO AND A HALF HOURS. 
I don't know how. I travel this route every day; I don't know what went wrong, but evidently something did, cos as pleasant as all this was, I would most certainly not do it again. Ugh.

Ironically, this song just came up on my youtube playlist:

Good song. Funny coincidence. Still not worth the walk.

Once in a blue moon

"A Blue Moon is the second full moon in a month of two full moons."

Tonight is a blue moon, everyone, and once more we are reminded that I am standing alone, without a dream in my heart.

Just in case there are any hunky twihards reading, this is totes me on a full moon.

In other news, Improv Mob was cancelled this evening, which makes me sad, because it feels good to step out of Yarra of an evening. Worse, I'd actually travelled all the way to Brunswick to get there when I found out, and then it took me like two hours to get back, because I met a fellow Yarran on the train back and she convinced me to go to the supermarket with her, but they were out of everything I needed, and then she abandoned me to ride back on her back, leaving me to bus back alone. *Sigh*. The moon still hasn't turned to gold, and no sweetheart has suddenly appeared before me, so I guess this is just one of those non-magical blue moons governed by the laws of the calender and not the whims of my heart.

It looks like I can have bad days in Oz, but they only happen once in a blue moon.

In case you don't get what I'm referencing:

+2 to improvisation, -6 to navigation

I’ve just returned from a theatre games workshop- yet again, the first time I’ve done one since last year. It was being run by a bunch of ex-students of the University of Melbourne and there was even someone who was in Neighbours there! (A squee, I do confess, a squee.) It was billed to me as an improvisation workshop, but apart from ole reliable Spacejump (“it’s like a Russian doll”, “a one person activity that isn’t that”- theatre introductions are identical the world over, it would seem), there were actually very few games involving theatrical improvisation.

They were more the kind of games that are employed by enthusiastic teens whilst they take care of disinterested youths- but fun, nonetheless. I will be returning next week, assuming I am told the time- the world really is geared towards those with Facebook. It was nice to hang with folks my own age who aren’t the rec room 2 crew and I got a free sociolinguistics textbook out of it- I even met some ex-exchangers, and got a glimpse of what life may be like post-uni for those of us who have flown so close to the sun that is living abroad.

Today also marks the first time I felt I got the full value of my day ticket- I went from Fairfield, to Melbourne central, to Brunswick, back to Melbourne Central and eventually to Clifton Hill. It was in use for nigh on six hours!

I would also like to relate a small incident I had in trying to reach this workshop- as with everything worth doing, there were several minor inconveniences. First off it was, raining, Edinburgh-style. Mini-rivers, with tides and ox-bows, the whole shebang, sprang up like cupcake shops in an affluent cycle. But the real inconvenience was finding the place.

The workshop took place at ‘Broken Mirror Productions’- which I really expected to leave Google blank- but no, it was one of their first suggestions. I noted down the directions from Google maps dutifully, and they got me absolutely nowhere. Unless ‘left’ and ‘right’ have changed meaning in the past few days and I wasn’t informed- it was probably put on Facebook- I was lead to the middle of an alley, between two carpet shops, and the directions were proudly telling me that this was an avant garde arts space.

I then tried using Google navigator on my phone, and was there in minutes. Why they can’t share information between the two, I have no idea, but they’re obviously run by different people, and I gotta say maps, navigator are kicking your ass. You have two weeks to turn it around. 

P.S. I guess I have no sense of direction in Australia, either. Alack. 

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.

Penguins and possums and fruit bats, oh my!

PENGUINS.

Sorry, I like to think I'm normally slightly more eloquent than that, but it has to be said: I SAW PENGUINS IN THE WILD! Real, live, tiny, cute, shy, beautiful PENGUINS!
John, a fellow Yarra-n, took Jason and me out to St. Kilda's beach last night; a short walk along the pier, a hop, skip and a jump along a frankly somewhat perillous walkway spanning the riled ocean, and there they were.

PENGUINS.

Real, live, fuzzy, breathing, squawking PENGUINS! I was a foot away from one at one point- I could have reached out and touched him, had I so desired. I didn't, because that would have been cruel and I'm not a cruel person, but by God, it was tempting. The species I saw were called 'Little Penguins', changed from the not so PC 'Fairy Penguins'. And they look like this:


Ladies.

 They are the most adorable thing one could imagine, and one looked right at me with his beady little eyes and I genuinely wanted to just squeal (ask Jason and I probably did.) Sadly, I was only allowed to coo over them for about half-an-hour as we had to return before our parking ticket ran out. But I will return. I vow this. I will see more

PENGUINS.

Real, live, terrified, kidnapped, mine now PENGUINS.

Epilogue:
To make sense of the title, Jason and I went for a stroll before I trip to see the- well, you know. And we saw a fruit bat, very large, very fast, very close.
And then another.
And another.
Then four.
Then five.
You see where I'm going with this? There were hundreds, filling the sky, clogging the horizon with their slightly creepy silhouettes. It was slightly like the scene in the wizard of oz, where the witch sends her little minions out to get them! and I had to stop myself from calling out 'Monkeys' in a Rik Hart baritone. I elected not to so as not to annoy Jason by talking even more about TWWOO.
Then, on the way back, we saw a possum- smaller than the one which crossed my path a couple of weeks ago- he scarpered when he saw us: not up a tree, as expected, but down a train. Proving that a leopard may change its spots and a possum its exits.

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.

In the night garden

Yesterday was a good day. I really, really want to stress that. It wasn't just that I actually managed to make myself get up early and thus accomplished several important tasks an hour before I'd normally even be up on a day when I had no classes. It wasn't just that I met Jason as I was about to head back and so extended my trip into town with pleasant company and a trip to the Uni bookshop, which is a very lovely space. It wasn't even just that I found out that the front desk had decided to waive the late fee on my first fortnight's rent.

No, whilst all these events were charming and agreeable in their own right, the thing that made yesterday really extraordinary was the nighttime constitutional Jason, Elle and I decided to take. Allow me to set the scene: The O-week event for that evening was a rubik's cube party (essentially a technicolour school disco), but everyone wanted to arrive fashionably later than everyone else. So, the party having officially started at 7.30, by 8.30 there were four people sluggishly grooving to unseemly club anthems. Tiring of this, Jason and I elected to duck out and saunter around the park which encircles our fair domicile; as we were setting off, Elle chanced by and enquired with furrowed brow to where we were headed and we invited her along. She gratefully acquiesced and the three of us began our journey to a raucous melody of wit and playful jibes. Whilst ambling along the path that runs through Yarra bend road, we gradually began to run out of street lights and the conversation turned to the fantastically dark things that could happen out there, in the night. Of course, some of these were positively pedestrian, like being stabbed or taken hostage, the little things that could take place in Bonny Scotland, but, this being Australia, there were also the delightful possibilities of crocodiles and drop bears, funnel web spiders and paralysing ticks, and the entire promenade had a delightful flavour of danger. Then, a wondrous thing happened- we got lost (not so uncommon) and I was the one to navigate our way back, no kidding. In Australia, everything truly is upside down, as I genuinely seem to have a sense of direction here- no less than four times recently, I have steered whatever group I'm in down the correct path. My theory is that, like migratory birds, I have a piece of metal in my head, but instead of directing me North, as the birds' does, mine is attracted to the South Pole. Now that I am nearer the underside of the globe, this piece of metal is pulling its weight rather than just spinning uselessly about. Huzzah. On top of this, we saw a flying fox, which was beautifully large and opaque in the moonlight; a living shadow soaring amongst the trees. And then, we returned to the party, and though there weren't any more people, those who were there were now suitable inebriated to make the thing enjoyable and I really had fun jiving in our tiny little circle. I even got in a request (Cee Lo Green- I won't name the song, as my parents are reading), and some of the Bedlam classics were played, and it really felt like being back in Edinburgh, except less crowded. 

Lovely.

A splash of colour

Just now, I had genuine, spontaneous contact with two people my own age. It was glorious.
They were a young couple. I was at the train station, see, near Yarra, but I didn't know the way back, having walked an overcircuitous that morning to the next station over. I overheard them discussing what they would have for dinner- he wanted a hamburger, maybe a pizza, she, fish cakes with onions (maybe making them into a sandwich- well, it takes all sorts to make a world.)
Well, they didn't seem the mugging type, so I screwed my courage to the sticking place and asked for directions. I told them I was looking for NMIT as people don't seem to have heard of Yarra House; it turns out they were walking the same direction, so they escorted me part of the way.
The girl reminded me a little of Ramona from Scott Pilgrim- a comparison she would have cherished, judging by the steampunk goggles proudly displayed atop her head. I commented on them and she was delighted to meet someone who knew what steampunk was. The man was more reserved, but he still managed to get a laugh about my obvious Britishness. He was an engineer and physicist, studying at RMIT, she a environment scientist and international study...er at Deacon. From what I gathered, they knew each other from the rural idyll they both came from. I didn't get either of their names, not that it would have helped since I don't have facebook, but I may meet them again on the public transport to which I am now enslaved.
For the sake of thoroughrority, I should say I returned to the games room last night to find the same man there. His name is Michael. He is quite nice, from what I can gather and asked me (yet again) what I wanted to watch. I noticed Back to the Future on the tivo. We watched the entire trilogy together. The only reason this does not count as contact is that over the course of six hours, we exchanged five lines of dialogue. Of course, going by this rate of increase, by Wednesday we should be married.


This is not related to the rest of this post, but I want to record it anyway- the principle difference I have noticed between Australia and the UK so far, excepting currency and accents, is the birds: the ones outside my window sound like monkeys and look like magpies on steroids. And today, as I was walking back, I glimpsed a beautiful, Macaw-like thing just sitting in a tree. It was like a rainbow had perched on the branch and I was awe-struck. I have no idea what it was, but I hope there are more of them because there is nothing like that just flying around in Edinburgh.