Back to school (Jennifer)

Thank Christ for the non-examination period.  I mean, literally, because it was Easter and everything, but also figuratively, because we are now a quarter of the way through the year.  Bangin’. 

 During this initial incubatory six-week period, the recurrent theme of How are you finding Uni? has been a favourite amongst my family and friends alike (particularly with my grandfather, who has Alzheimer’s, and inadvertently repeats questions up to four times in a twenty-minute phone conversation.)
Of course, my answer varies depending on the audience, but to summarise—I nod effusively like one of those bobble-head Jesus dolls and respond with something deeply intellectual like, “Yeah, really great, I love it.”  Which is, on the whole, true.  “I love it” inasmuch as I enjoy my subjects, my tutors are swell, and nobody’s mentioned ENTER scores in at least three months.  

That said, I dug the mid-semester break like Kerouac dug girls, jazz and bennies in his great American novel.    And so, in true back-to-school spirit, I present a journal of What I Did On The Holidays. 

 1.       Had a rollicking game of ‘Guess Who?’*  Sometimes the best nights are the ones where you start off watching Mythbusters, move on to board games, and end up performing acrobatics to Peaches. 

See, this is how you know it’s going to be a good party: In the afternoon Scarlett and I went down to the grocery store, where our dear friend Sven was working, and conveniently offered us a two-for-one deal on champagne.  Bonanza.  Chatted with Sven for awhile; admired his hair, which is always sculpted into this incredible Wham!-esque perfection.  (Seriously.  Even when we all went to Pyramid Rock and slept in tents for four days, his hair was still Wham!’d.  Superlative.) 

Sven (gesturing to champagne): Is this all?
(Scarlett and I briefly calculate all the ridiculous things we could ask for.)
Me: No, we want ping-pong balls as well. 
Sven: Ping-pong balls?
Scarlett (utterly deadpan): Yeah, we’re going to Thailand and we want to practice. 
Sven: Well, then go and grab some. 
Me: But they cost $3.20. 
Sven (sighing; hair wilting): Just go and grab them. 

And just like that, we got free ping-pong balls!  Of course, we had no real need for them, but you know, it’s the thought that counts.  

And that’s how you know it’s going to be kicker of a party.  

2.      Got a haircut.  Not just a trim, either; we’re talking, oh, maybe eight inches of hair being sawn off.  While I have been wanting to get my hair cut for months now, and am pleased with the result, I was somewhat anxious in anticipation of this extreme lock-lopping.  Mainly I was worried about looking like Taylor Hanson circa 1997. 

Short hair is risky for girls; it can potentially suggest you’re bi-curious or whatever.  Not that there’s anything wrong with being bi-curious.  But I was thinking more Hayley-from-the-Jezebels-meets-Amélie than Tegan Quin.  Although I don’t want to undermine the arse-kicking ability of Tegan and her sideways mullet . 

The bottom line is, my mother was not helpful as I drove off to the hairdresser.  She thought it would be funny to wave me off by warbling ‘The Sound of White’ by Missy Higgins, a reference to the question mark over said songstress’ sexuality.  (Meanwhile at dinner that night, my eight-year-old sister Grace appraised my hair.  Subsequently opined “Nope, you don’t look like a lesbian.”  Yes, this would be my family.) 

3.      Slaved over my Democracy assignment.  The Christian community may have reposed on Good Friday, but I got jiggy with the late great Senator McCarthy.  Not literally, obviously; he is dead, and even if he were alive, I would not voluntarily spend time with the man.  I doubt I would relinquish the time it would take to watch an episode of Iron Chef, for instance, or run up and down my stairs repeatedly, in order to have a heart-to-heart with the ugly man who spawned an ism.  May he rest in peace.  

Back to school tomorrow.  I’m sure my 9 a.m. psych tute will be exhilarating, but that summer-is-ending hangover is still lingering. 

  * Sample questions included ‘Does yours look like a paedophile?’, ‘Does she have a cleft chin?’, and, ‘I know you said it’s a she, but would yours appear to be a transsexual?’ (Susan, in case you wondered.  There’s some real ambiguity there.   Check it out.)