How do you pronounce 'Baillieu', anyway?

Oh, the title’s unrelated, but a pressing concern. I’ve heard a few too many variations.

Okay.

Well.

Trinity are having a HUGE party next door tonight. On a Thursday. ‘Fair enough’, I hear you cry, ‘It’s Seniors’ Return Turn’, or some such. But they seem to have forgotten the fact that they have neighbours. Who may like to sleep at some point before nine a.m. I have met a lot of lovely Trinity kids, and to be fair, they did just sing Tiny Dancer, which I may have joined in on, but I am tired and cross and feel about eighty years old in my grumpiness.

Oh Lord, I just managed to make myself sound about as much fun as a dead cat. But so be it, internet buddies, you can be revealed to all my grouchy secret angst.

Other than fuming at neighbouring colleges (fun fact: Ormond have a hate chant against us, as one of their students cheerfully announced to one of my friends. Great.) O-Week has been a blast so far. The slew of new friends as well as whatever word it is that denotes ‘someone you’ve met once, bumped into twice and does the same major as you’ is a blast, as well as having all of Melbourne as my playground. A little underwhelmed by the advice sessions offered at uni, as a few others here have mentioned, but that was a problem I quickly solved by stopping going to them and doing more useful things like eating cake on Lygon St, visiting other colleges, and sorting out just what my minor IS. It’s ‘Literature and Theatre Studies’, for anyone anxious to be in the know.

Today was Clubs and Societies Event numero uno, and a blast indeed. I had to force myself to leave at something like the six club benchmark, so I could avoid spending all my money on memberships. Straining my memory, I recall joining; M-ASS, the Juggling Club, the MU Choral Society, the Musical Theatre Club, the French Club, and Unicef. Enough for one day, I think. Add finding out about Marxism rallies (now inked onto my hand… could be an interesting day) and the abhorred Young Liberals is all very interesting.

It’s tempting to use this blog as a space to whinge about rubbish timetables and the Host Program (which I have deeply mixed views on) and how hard it is to find drink fountains on campus, but I feel like I should mention things like the impressive array of public sculpture I’ve come across, my joy at 10 x 2 hour Metcards, and the excitement of the moment today when I noticed myself speaking of college at ‘home’. As well as a general note on how wonderful all my newly-met college buddies are, and the occasional uni acquaintance I remember the name of, in case any of them stumble across this blog.

If anyone feels like commenting on the indiginity of fresher dances and fresher shirts, the pain of IDFs, the questionable usefulness of the host program, or anythign else under the sun, please do. Comments stop baby seals from dying. Or something.

In summary, O-week is mad and delicious, Trinity is noisy, life is good, and Cara is tired.

Have a fabulous two a.m, remarkably attractive reader.