It's been a huge week! Saturday night we had the Where the F*&^ is Medley Party. We were lucky enough to get five free drinks with our ticket which also helped to pay for the two bands we had, being 'The Rex Wicked' and 'The Trojan Horns'. I hadn't heard 'The Rex Wicked's music before, but found I enjoyed it heaps. I've also since found that it is a band my brother found through MySpace and added to his "friends".
I did two performances of my song 'What's Going On?' live 'The Rex Wicked', and gave it a great sound. Unfortunately I had a slight cold and their volume was very high, so it got very hard to hear what I was saying. But everyone (that spoke to me afterwards) enjoyed it. I do have videos of this, but they need captions to make any sense. But it should be noted I did just released the official video clip just yesterday.
By the time 'The Trojan Horns' came on, I'd had a few too many of my free drinks, and being the skinny bloke I am, was only partly aware of what was happening. (I'm fairly sure I remember it all though, unlike O-Week...) This made it hard for me to decide whether I liked this band, but I still had a good dance though. It's rather hard to describe why this night was so great, but even after the party a few hours went just talking to people I didn't know (former Medley residents, people's friends, etc.) and generally having just having fun.
This week also brought the U-Film Fest. My film was screened on Tuesday night, and was quite enjoyed by my friends who got a good laugh out of it and surprised by the amount of effort I'd put into it. There were quite a few strange films, ones that made no sense, and ones that were that different they were kind of funny (in a good way). I found out my film would be screened at the Awards screening on Thursday, and couldn't help feeling a little excited and nervous. There were probably about four films, including mine, that were really competing for the 'Grand Fester' award, in other words, the winning film. Finally, at the end of the night, they announced 'Angry Man' as the winner of the 'Grand Fester' award. My prize was a clapper with the details of the award painted on, and one of the new iPods which have just come out. (I haven't actually got it yet it's so new!) So now the film is going to the state final, and will be screening at ACMI at Federation Square. I think this will be on the 20th of October, but I must confirm this. I'll tell you when I know and edit it appropriately here.
Also on Wednesday night I went to see some free comedy at Union House, and I mostly went to see Sammy-J, and I did notice he seemed to bring out the most laughs in people, out of the five comedians that were there.
And now I've had to move out of college and back home. I like home though, so much more relaxing.
How strange that Sophie and I have the same birthday! It's bizarre, and I suppose it discounts everything and anything astrology says. We're both Virgos down to the same day, but so obviously different. However, I'll follow her lead and give a blow-by-blow frenzy of what happened to me!
I lay about in bed until noon, feeling dreadful and falling subject to the cheering up attempts of PXW, my guardian angel. I have somehow managed to get sinus/throat/chest infections (at the same time) about 8 or 9 times this academic year, severe enough to land me in bed for several days. It's getting ridiculous, so I was none too happy that it had to land on my birthday. A box of tissues later, I decided to get up. My housemate David came home from uni just in time to accompany me into the city for some heavy-duty wandering. I was wearing an incredibly girly aqua sundress, cardigan and cute kitten heels, carrying a little pink Chinese parasol.. I like dressing up!
So, we wandered - visited the puppies at Melbourne Central, I considered buying a goldfish but no, I bought coloured pencils and paints and canvasses and new paint brushes and some apple green paper lanterns, we had juice and chocolate, then met Matthew on Swanston St.
How romantic it was.. he was looking for me and from underneath his jacket he pulled this huge amazing bunch of red roses in antique golden paper. I was absolutely bowled over - he looked so happy to see me and kissed me on the cheek. The roses were so beautiful and I was smiling so much that my cheeks hurt! We wandered a little more and he took me to Peter Alexander (one of my FAVOURITE shops in the world) and told me that I could have anything I wanted. He admitted he was being lazy - he didn't have a clue what I would want from there or what would suit me, or what my size would be (silly - it's small, medium or large - so difficult!), so he decided to let me choose. I got this beautiful pair of pajamas (see below)- white with a beautiful pattern of roses and hummingbirds all over them.
We then skipped over to Richmond, my Dad's house - he'd been cooking for ages and had managed to make enough food to feed an army. There was awesome roast lamb encrusted in rosemary, brocolli and cauliflower baked with white sauce, tomato and onion au gratin, gorgeously crunchy sourdough bread and then an orange cake! Just when I was craving a home-cooked meal too.. Then my Dad revealed something incredibly cool - I'm getting an iPod! I know, it's probably not exciting for anybody.. but I have wanted one for ages, but everytime I've asked for it (Christmas, other birthdays, etc) I've gotten something else. What's more is I'm getting one of those new Nanos.. the colourful ones. Mine will be pink, my signature colour! *dances*
Fate even had it in store that I'd feel better for a little while. I stopped having to blow my nose every five seconds and my voice came back for a while.
Then House was on! (Favourite TV show, ever). How lucky to have my birthday fall on a Wednesday this year..
I suppose this is the turning point in the post - the next morning, I woke up unable to breathe properly. My voice was utterly gone, I couldn't even squeak, I couldn't stand up without someone helping me and it hurt to even open my eyes. I was promptly rushed to the doctor, who gave me lots and lots of tablets. I still feel very sick,
Later in the day, my step-mother came down from HK on business, so she took us out to dinner for my birthday (again). I really wasn't feeling up to going out, seeing I was in still in bed when Dad came to pick me up, but they insisted so I rugged up, took some Panadol and obliged. We went to Chinatown and had some truly awesome Cantonese food; crispy roasted duck, fried rice, wilted greens with garlic, salt and pepper calamari, claypot seafood, braised pork and vegetables, etc. I haven't actually eaten very much in the last couple of days, despite the dazzling array of dishes that have been presented before me. When you feel like you have golfballs embedded in your neck and a cheese grater shoved down your throat, you don't feel like eating much at all. But it's nice to look at it, try to smell it as much as you can through a blocked nose and take a bite of every dish. At least it makes you feel a part of everything, even if you can't enjoy it with so much gusto.
Afterwards we went back to the Westin hotel where my step-mother is staying - very lovely. The bath in her suite is as big as my bed.. I had a lovely long hot soak with bubbles and everything, and when I stepped out, they had gotten almond croissants and hot chocolate from Starbucks! We lounged around for a while, watching the weirdness that can be found on cable tv. Now I'm in my new pajamas back in Richmond, thinking about going to bed. Fun fun fun..
I suppose the bad part about all this birthday business is that out of all my friends, only one of them remembered. I couldn't believe it - I got one message from Elke tonight saying, "Oh, happy birthday Jo! My phone wasn't working yesterday, but I hope everything was/is great! I miss you, see you soon!". *sigh*
Even my supposed best friend spoke to me for half an hour on my actual birthday and then said, "Hang on, isn't it your birthday soon?"... *head slap*
Now I have to go to Geelong to have yet more birthday celebrations with my Mom and siblings.. eek. The perils (!) of having a split and augmented family.
Being ridiculously sick and friendless on your birthday isn't great, but it was nice to be spoiled by the few that mean the most.
I haven't been around much lately, things have just been busy. But yesterday was MY BIRTHDAY!!!
And as coincidence would have it - also fellow blogger, Johanna's birthday too!!!! So happy (belated) birthday Johanna!!
Now for the THANK YOUs!!!!!!!!!!!!
*JEREMY* YOU ARE AMAZING, THANK YOU FOR BEING SO INCREDIBLY THOUGHTFUL!!!!!! Yes folks, our dear fellow blogger (and great personal friend of mine) Jez TRAINED (I.E PUBLIC TRANSPORT) all the way to FOUNTAIN gate (Kath n Kim country) to get me a DOZEN Krispy Kreme donuts!!!! I was so taken-aback by what he did! It was the most wonderful surprise and I just want him to know how much I appreciate it. Nothing was cooler on my birthday morning than being at uni sitting down in the sun with Jez, his girlfriend Kim, with a box of Krispy Kremes, whilst wearing a Krispy Kreme hat (YES...your Vogue-reading, fashion-obsessed, blogger was wearing the hat that people at Krispy Kreme workers wear! HELP I WORE CHAIN-STORE!) We took a photo on my phone....maybe you will get the opportunity to view. Though it may just be too embarassing.
It was just lovely. -Plus the celeb status that Krispy Kreme gets you was cool! That will soon be no more once the Collins St store opens as everyone will have the opportunity to easily source Krispy Kremes - so it was a good feeling to experience this before it comes to an end!!!
Lunch was spent chatting to my dear friend Liz in the sun which was so relaxing and a nice break.
And after what seemed like forever of classes, I escaped to Melbourne Central where I was to meet J.
Waiting at 'our meeting spot', suddenly someone taps me on the shoulder from behind. I turn around and come face to face with a bunch of red roses the size of my body! In his free hand was a bag full to the brim with wrapped presents in Jelly Belly and heart wrapping paper...and somewhere near the bottom was an elusive pink, blue-bow-trimmed box.
We took the train back to my place together, I was determined to wait until we got there to open the presents. The whole trip home I felt like a princess. A princess on public transport - who would have thought?!
Finally, home.
And one by one, I opened the presents.
His card was so beautiful....
And the presents - MY GOD!!
I have never felt so spoiled in my life.
A gold Juicy Couture charm bracelet....somehow he knew it would be perfect...it was different to the one I had on order at Neiman Marcus, but a MILLION times better - I don't know how he found it. And instead of having to wait months for it, it was on my wrist then and there. It is stunning...I adore it, I LOVE IT I LOVE IT I LOVE IT - and it with the heart and horse-shoe charms; it is a perfect symbolisation of the luck and love of our meeting and subsequent relationship.
A GIANT box of Jelly Belly jelly beans = DREAM COME TRUE (for those who don't know - something I live for, particularly during exams!)
Hand-painted chocolates....you have not had real chocolate 'til you've had these.
And, a book ordered off Amazon "Investment Valuations" - all I will ever need to know for the rest of my uni degree and future investment banking career. It is the perfect book...(and massive- will take me years to get through!!).
He was just so incredibly thoughtful and I felt so special....I never expected any of it. I am so lucky!!!
Dinner was a family affair which was so much fun. It was held at my favourite Italian restaurant in Malvern - Sugo....TO DIE FOR FOOD!!! It was wonderful. I really could eat their food until death!
Finally we somehow made it home and sometime around midnight I collapsed into bed exhausted.
It was a birthday I will never forget.
I wish I could re-live it again and again!!
Thank you J.
For everything.
There are a few phrases in the English language which are culturally accepted as being lies from the moment they pass our lips and were never actually intended to ever be anything else. These are wide and varied in life, from "This'll only hurt a little bit" to "It's not you, it's most definetely me", to my personal favourite, "Don't worry, the course material is all on the web". Thus everyone yesterday knew, that when Soph, Kim and I said that we'd just take five minutes out from the next class to chat and enjoy Soph's birthday, that we were naturally lying through our teeth. (And on that note, Happy Birthday to Johanna as well).
Perhaps the present we gave her had something to do with that. We arranged to all meet together down by my locker in the basement (it's the locker on the top level secured by a paperclip, in case you're wondering where that smell is coming from) where I ran over, a few minutes late, to hand her a large box which naturally wished her a Very Merry Christmas, a legacy of the Bean household's perennial lack of wrapping paper. She made all the right "You didn't have to do that" noises, and then very abruptly took them back as she ripped back a small part of the paper. "OhmiGod", she said breathlessly, sounding like a junkie who'd just been given a syringe kit for Christmas. "You DIDN'T!".
Amazing what a simple box of a dozen Krispy Kremes will do, really.
Anyway, that's not what I'm logging on to have a rant about today (despite the delicious taste of sugar and dough still resonating in the tastebuds of my mind). Instead, today is about something both completely different and, to my mind, somewhat sobering. It's about something which I find truly upsetting in a society that used to pride itself on being open, progressive and tolerant.
I jumped on the later bus today, not starting lectures until a positively leisurely 10.00am. The sun beat down on the cold, wintery morning that was a legacy of the cloudless night beforehand as the bus wound its way up Warrandyte Rd, slowly warming up as it went. At Warrandyte High, a class of about thirty or so middle-school students, roughly thirteen or fourteen years old, descended on the bus like a pack of seagulls accompanied by their two teachers. Naturally, they were young, precocious, loud, fun-filled and completely immature. I didn't really mind at all. I was like that once, too. For all I know, I still could be.
Two young boys - one thirteen, one fourteen - were sat together in the seat behind me and were discussing some particular afterparty as though alcohol was the giver of all known natural life. One had the slightly tinny, husky voice of a teenager and the other one was barely to hit puberty. It was normal teenage-guy-talk stuff, you know the like. Who did what at the afterparty, this girl got really drunk and so did this one, I had schnaps and it was great 'cos it's like, oh you don't know? It's like, about 100% alcohol, wow that's cool, and oh I can't wait. Then one of them expressed an opinion that the other one didn't actually agree with, and so he decided to cut him down with the worst shutdown he could think of. That's so f**king gay.
That's so f**king gay. The words emanated through my mind again and again, jamming at the particular spit that the orator had put on the word gay. Moreover, I thought back again to my own days as not just a thirteen-year-old boy but even as that thirteen-year-old boy and I knew that such phrasing was by no means new. Shut up, you fag. Don't be such a homo. You're really gay. And a multitude of other equally unpleasant expressions that will not waste precious pixels here.
The world has come a long way since the turn of last century in terms of egality, yet it still has such a long way to go. In terms of feminism, times have have moved on, thank God, from the unholy era when Emily Davison had to throw herself in front of a horse before women legally obtained the vote. We have seen a littany of public works, ranging from Greer's The Female Eunuch to even, I feel, books like Pride and Prejudice putting public pressure on people to not only seem but also try to be equal. The battle is far from won on so many fronts, even in the Western world, but at least it has moved on from its despicable beginnings.
If the beginnings and the battle for women's rights has been despicable, then the battle for equal racial rights has been truly egregious and even today one does not have to poke one's nose too far into the newspaper to detect the underlying note of suspicion that, sadly, according to some, accompanies many of foreign descent who enter this country. We may well have only given Australian Aboriginals the vote in 1963, whilst America's record on rights for its poor black population is appalling, but at least now it seems that the tide of indignation and anger has finally overtaken the tide of racism which fuelled it. God help the next person to drop the "n" word in any sort of public arena, and rightly so; though we are nowhere near done, at least the public has begun to police itself on its racism over the last thirty-five years. I have no doubt that had the young boy behind me dropped a racist reference instead of a homosexual one then his friend would have severely reprimanded him.
That's so f**king gay.
Sometimes we have very little idea of the destructive nature of the things that we actually say. I know quite a few - not a lot, openly - gay people in my life and something inside of me shrivels when I hear people saying anything so foul and prejudicial about them, for I know that they do not deserve it. One of my most trusted friends (who is currently in China at the minute) is gay and is one of the nicest, and actively friendliest people I have met; he is truly someone who knows the value of friendship and humanity and cherishes it deeply. Or, for example, our French teacher for Semester Two; she makes no attempt to hide the fact that she is a lesbian and quite frankly no-one cares, and above all she is a fantastic teacher with a wicked sense of humour and biting rhetoric. These people - and others who I won't name in public, for they are not, to my knowledge, open with their sexuality - are a credit to themselves and far above the society which has, in my view, failed them.
You're so f**king gay.
So perhaps it's time to cross that last hurdle, our own Maginot line, that last frontier. In reality, it was that time, a long time ago. I know that I potentially make myself a target in writing this article, but I am, as a straight man with a girlfriend, proud of what I have written. If we are truly to be an accepting society, we must stop merely accepting those who we wish to accept, and tolerating our imbedded culture as something unchangeable. It is time to breach that last frontier.
Best of luck for the holidays... I mean, non-attendance period;
jez
ps - I tried to find one of my favourite photos over the internet for this article - I have it in a book but I couldn't find it on the net. Perhaps someone else knows the photo I mean? It's a photo of an elderly woman in a gay rights march in New York, 1979, who is wearing a smile as wide as the moon and is holding up an enormous sign worth many hours of effort saying, "My Gay Son is the Greatest!". It's one of the most uplifting things I have ever seen - does anyone else know the photo I am talking about?
So I've torn my main thigh muscle (rectus femoris, which runs from the top of the leg to the knee) in 3 places with deep surrounding bruising, torn my subcutaneous fat tissue with evidence of early fat necrosis and surrounding bruising, torn my collateral ligament close to its proximal insertion and most probably ripped the cartilage between my knee joints which is what is causing the most pain and may have to be investigated further with an MRI and specialist attention. Oh and the bruising is so severe that it still hasnt come up to the surface yet. Bahah.
It's okay guys, I'll be okay :|
No water polo for me until Australian Uni Games...hopefully!
Apart from that pain on a daily basis for the past 10 days and counting, life is actually really really good!
Will update more on that at the end of the week...By golly it will also be the end of the term then too!
Lara. xx
One day there was an Angry Man - just about everything makes him angry! Little does he realise what bizarre consequences this could have...
Come see Angry Man at the U-Film Fest this Tuesday 12th September 7pm. It will be at the North Dining Hall, ground floor of Union House! See a preview. Cost: Free.
You should also make sure to check out the U-Film Fest on Monday at 7pm at the same place, screening different stuff.
Last week was a shocking week for school work. A pleasent three assignments, each a week to get ready, plus a physics test on the Friday. To top it off two weeks ago I had a massive headache due to a sinus blockage, making study impossible that weekend. I was still finishing the Applied mathematics advanced assignment at 5pm, and my physics study didn't go that well. I don't believe it was due to bad planning, I had to spend ages on the applied maths assignment to know what was going on and my physics test suffered. Luckily the Maths B advanced assignment was heaps easier, and only took a few hours to complete. And even for my Science, Philosophy and History mini-paper, of which the reading this week was quite difficult, I've felt that I've at least achieved an adequate mark. (for me, that is.) It was unfortunately stressful finishing off that last assignment, and now wish that I'd thought to apply for an extension. Damn I'm glad it's over!
Last night, Saturday, we had the 'Where the F#*& is Medley?' party at our college, I'll talk more about this on Tuesday, going to try to track down some photos.
Also looking greatly forward to the Comedy Union Night this Wednesday at 7pm, which is in Union house, and I think is in the North Dining Hall. (And it's free!!!)
And yey! Two weeks of holidays in a week!
I don't particularly want to go into studying Biology for the money. I know there's plenty of it, but it doesn't really motivate me. I don't really want to do it for the Doctors-and-Nurses scenarios; I'm happy and content (in fact ecstatic) on the pedestal where I stand. I'm altogether quite a pleasant person, so there's no reason to do it to cut up dead people. Even the latter-year decline into the inevitable "Look-who-has-the-keys-to-the-medicine-cupboard" morphine addiction wouldn't sway me to the Medical Building.
However, there is one reason why I would like to study biology, and that is to learn just how many ways it is possible to insert a political pamphlet into any orifice of its giver.
The last week has seen a sudden pamphlet-blitz upon an unsuspecting student body with the upcoming student union elections. Don't get me wrong, I have no issues whatsoever with people being political (in fact I think it's a good thing) but the next person to ask me whether I've heard about the upcoming elections and Would I Be Interested in hearing about the policies of the Dribble Collective when I am trying to avoid them will be lucky to not have to remove said pamphlet with the aid of a scalpel and a general anaesthetic. Let me also note this; if any group puts forth these three policies;
1) Protection of Student Welfare services (ie Bursaries, Law Services, Student Representation etc)
2) More bloody Microwaves in Union House, preferably complete with a sponge and liquid for people who haven't learnt how to microwave rice yet
and 3) A non-invasive campaigning policy
then I will vote for you without a second thought. Being there as a staging point for information for those who are interested and giving out material to those who want it is one thing; thrusting pamphlets in the general direction of anything with two legs that walks past for a week straight is another. I think it's great that people care about politics, and I myself care deeply about it, but there is a difference between being active and being incredibly invasive. It's gotten to the stage whereas people are walking around Union House instead of going through it.
Anyway, that's detracting from what really should be the main thrust of this post, and that's that the Chocolate Lover's Society finally managed to put an event together earlier this week on the Thursday. We're beginning to think that there's some curse involved with the day-to-day running of the club. Over the last month-odd, three of the four main members of the new administration have been hospitalised; Vice-President Ian, with appendicitis, Treasurer Linda with a shocking bout of pneumonia and of course myself with Some Sort of Gastric Issue (and yes, I do realise the irony of the President of the CLS having a long-term stomach problem). So, naturally, it fell down to Andrew the Secretary to ring me at ten-to-nine in the morning to tell me that the night before, at Science ball (so presumably not completely sober, though he neglected to mention that), he had managed to trip over a park bench and cleave one of his front teeth straight in half and was now at the dentist. It wasn't the best start to the day and when our poor Treasurer emerged, fresh from the hospital, looking as though she'd been backed over by several large trucks, we really began to to wonder if we could pull this off with roughly one-and-three-quarters of a healthy body between us. Our three healthy-and-well comittee members shiver in anticipation of the curse. (And, given our luck, that's probably the first indicator of meningacoccal).
I have now discovered one of the best ways to Make Enemies at Safeway; load two shopping trolleys up with $500 worth of sausages and chocolate, and choose a time with only one non-express lane open. If you're wondering just how much chocolate and sausages one can buy with $500, the answer is probably not as much as you'd think. By the time we factored in exceptionally expensive Vegetarian Sausages (I still maintain that tofu is the food for when your tastebuds have given up on life) and naturally all those drinks, the cost adds up and it almost gets to the point whereas the chocolate isn't the major expense. Everyone in the supermarket looked at us and began to consider giving to charity more often if this is what students are eating; the elderly couple behind us, on the other hand, were very understanding and even quite impressed by the existence of the Chocolate Lover's Society. Actually, that seems to be the reaction of almost every woman (and quite a few men) who don't go to Melbourne Uni; "There's a CHOCOLATE LOVER'S SOCIETY?!? And you're the PRESIDENT?!?!?". This is usually followed by a quick comment about fringe benefits and Swiss Bank Accounts. For the record, there is no incentive involved (but, if anyone's listening, please make the cheque out in Turkish Delight).
We arrived, with sausages, milkshakes and chocolate, in plenty of time to set up the barbeque. (I won't divulge the fact that it took two men who both do Engineering fifteen matches and five minutes to work out how to actually light a barbeque). We were ready and stashed with nine kilos of chocolate in bars, another two-odd in Maltesers and Jaffas, about eight litres of milkshake and fifteen kilos of sausages (which is usually more than enough for a two-hour function). I parked my greasy rear behind the BBQ with tongs in hand and started to work. To say that we were understocked would be an understatement. We ran out of milkshakes after forty-five minutes, sausages after an hour and a quarter, and the chocolate gave way soon after that (despite us sending poor Ian out on a reconnaissance mission to the local shop). Every hand was needed to thrust chocolate in the general direction of anyone who wanted it and about a third of the way through proceedings a Godsend arrived wearing a ready smile, new shoes and a bag full of Commerce books. My initial words of, "You know, you don't really HAVE to do this" were flicked away like dew off the grass as Kim jumped straight in behind the milkshakes to eventually give our poor long-suffering Treasurer a chance for a break, despite no obligation to help out whatsoever, just like she did on mid-year intake. She's unbelievable, that woman. Honestly, if she keeps this up, I'll run out of superlatives. I managed a brief 'hi' to her school friends who were no doubt giving me the "friend's new boyfriend" once-over before I stuck my head back in amongst the sausages and the onion once more. If turnout is any measure, the day was a massive success; hopefully now that we're all on the mend, we'll be able to do this a bit more often.
What else is news? I'll try and keep it brief; I went for a run for the first time since I fell sick six weeks ago today; doing the latter half of it on bitchumen did not qualify as a good idea. It was only about 4k but the fitness base that I've lost has been incredible (although, in reality, I was fairly strong and fit before I did get sick). Coming back home, my feet and my shoulders were waging a contest to see who could ache the most. "Hey," said my chest and calves, "that sounds like fun! I'll join in!". Let's just say that I am going to make myself suffer over the next few months to get back in shape.
Last of all, one of the our favourite posters (and the reason why I got on this site in the first place), Sophie, has been quite sick recently, and, what's more, is having her birthday on Wednesday. Get well soon Soph; hope to see ya at your jelly-belly consuming, investment-bank worshipping, whose-slave-just-died-recently work-ethic best before too long.
w. love to all
jez
In my last post I mentioned how things are looking up lately...It's not like everything has just gone *BOOM* and become better again, there's still definitely times when I am down, but I've felt that since I have come back and made more of an effort to keep myself happy, that it's slowly working and more of the sun is visible than it has been for a while!
Last Thursday, my trail ride for Working With Animals was lots of fun...My horse, Jacko, got a bit of a fright near then end though and reared up and bolted a bit through the forest... Luckily I can ride though so it wasn't too scary lol. On Thursday night i played water polo and for some odd reason my team was man-down, so we got beaten for the first time this season. It was still a really good effort though by everyone considering each of us would have to mark 2 players in at least one stage of the whole game... by the fourth quarter we were all pretty worn out!!!!
Friday saw a 10am-1pm practical for Genetics and Evolution which by far (sorry to all those involved) was the most BORING practical class I have ever been to! It was more like a lecture or a tutorial... taking down notes and answering questions then doing a test for 99% of the 3 hour duration. Argh! After class I hopped on the tram to the city and ventured into The Basement at Myer where I had to find a dress to wear that night to the Booze Cruise because I stupidly didn't bring much back with me after my break. The first one i tried on was the one i bought thank God, then I grabbed some lunch and came back to college.
Now I tend to do some pretty crazy stuff... but I'm not sure if this would be defined as Crazy, or Lara You Just Have Too Much Time On Your Hands. I decided it would be a cool change if I straightened my hair, so i globbed on all the stuff in the shower then spent 2 hours running straightening irons through my hair...which I guess was worth the effort in the end because it turned out pretty good if I do say so myself!
After going down to dinner looking like a tomato (that straightener was HOT!) I came back up to my room and got changed and all that jazz, then Mel, Chrissy, Boosh, Em, Penny, Liz and I caught the tram to the end of Elizabeth St. because we missed the main group of people. Somewhere after getting off the tram, Mel, Chrissy, Boosh and I got separated from the others so we ran around the side of the Yarra searching frantically for this boat we were meant to be boarding in 5 minutes! Finally we found it and hopped on, and the boat embarked on a few hours of boozing (for some...well most), cruising, dancing and fun!! It was yet another a good chance to have fun with 130 odd people I share calling this place home with and some much needed fun was had after such a busy week of uni stuff!
The after party was held at Melbourne Central Lion Hotel (I think that's what it's called?) which was AWESOME...The band were lots of fun and were playing covers of great songs, even the song we had to do the Fresher Dance to in O Week, pretty cool. So we all danced and continued the celebrations into the morning; some stayed till reaaaaally late but I was dead by around 2ish, so was Joe so we caught a cab back to college... Funnily enough I still woke up at 8.30 or 9.30 or something ridiculously early like that after going to sleep at 3am!
On Saturday I managed to finally get myself showered and ready in my uniform to play soccer then went down to lunch which was pizza...I must say it wasn't the best feeling to be running around with melted cheese sitting in my stomach lol! Our first game was against Queens College and I was playing left forward for the game... I almost scored once which was annoying but oh well... Oh and I kind of came a bit too close to their goalie a couple of times haha which brought cheers from the Whitley supporters... I guess inter-college rivalry is all just a part of the experience of living in such a place though, which is fine when it's all just in the name of fun! So we lost to Queens I think 2 nil (could have been more) but we had lots of fun so we didn't mind.
Our last game was later on in the afternoon against Newman, who we also lost to 4 nil lol but hey we put our team together at LITERALLY the last minute. This game was more intense.. I was right forward this time and got a fair bit of the ball and managed a few headers and tackles and came close to having a go at some goals too which was good.
HOWEVER, during the last 5 minutes of the first half I was going for the goals with a clear break and only the goalie coming out at me, when all of a sudden 2 more players came out of nowhere and next thing I'm on the ground in a position I didn't know my body could physically bend into, and a Newman player flying up, up, down, and....straight onto my leg with her studded football boots.
O-u-c-h.
I didn't think it was that bad, just a kick, but when I tried to get up once, twice, two times....and my leg just kept collapsing under me I thought Maybe It Wasn't Just Like A Normal Kick In Water Polo. Finally I managed to get up (might I add I didn't even get awarded a penalty shot and the game just kept on going around me!) and attempted to jog back to my position but ended up hopping every 4 or 5 steps...UtOh.
We were man-down for the game so I couldn't go off... I just kept playing until half time where I stretched it out a bit and tried to get my muscles going again. The second half was torture because I had to keep sprinting up and down the sideline...but by the time the last 10 minutes came it was too much pain so I just stayed in the goal half ready to receive the ball and only have to run with it half the distance. All the girls played really well considering most of the team had little to no experience, and finally the whistle went, the one time I was relieved to hear game over in a soccer match I was playing when we were losing :P and I walked (hobbled) back to college for a shower and dinner.
By Sunday morning I couldn't really walk properly at all so that day was just spent watching the guy's matches and working on assignments which I handed in on Monday as well as doing my mid-semester test for biology. I couldn't go to training Monday night 'cause of the leg and I'll be missing my game tonight, too :( and UNI GAMES ARE SO CLOSE!! AHH!!!
Today I was meant to be going to a horse practical at Flemington for the day but it got postponed, and my leg is still killing and the pain has spread to my knee (yeah, the fractured one :|) so I'm going to go to the doctors after lunch. AND, tonight is our college AGM! I'm running for female sports rep; my poster is up in the JCR and I've made a (corny) video which has a bit of comedy, some quotes, and some clips of me playing soccer and water polo, and I just need to write down a few points I can look at when I say my speech tonight.
It's funny, not very long ago at all I would never have dared to run for something, even if I really wanted it...not sure what it is, but I guess it's just what I talked about at the start of this post...Everything slowly returning back to normal. I'll be over the moon if I get this position, but if I don't I won't be too fussed...Besides, the person who gets voted in is meant to be the person that a majority of the place wants as their representative for that aspect of the college. After the AGM everyone's heading out to celebrate at Keeper's hotel so that will be a good night nevertheless.
On Saturday I'm going to an Alpaca farm for a uni excursion which is exciting! And Sunday I'm doing some work at the football; a friend helped me out with getting a bit of extra cash from a small casual job.
Anyway I guess I'd better hop out of bed (yes, I'm sitting in bed on my laptop cause of that wretched leg being in so much pain!) and get myself showered and ready for lunch and the doctors. I just really hope it's nothing too serious, especially if it's going to stop me from competing in Adelaide.
Hah, what injury/illness will be next.
Sometimes I get this extraordinary feeling of impetus - I have to do something, I have to do everything, right now. It's not happening yet, but I feel it's just on the horizon. Yes, there are assignments due soonish that I should attend to, but my heart is just about at bursting point for bigger plans and ideas. I'm just not exactly sure what they involve yet. Maybe a bit of guerilla art.. perhaps!
Last post, I talked about adventuring with my newest friend. Seems that he has sparked something in me that is steadily growing to a flame - university and life in general can seem so aimless when you don't have a guardian angel to help you along. It's like in Amelie when she's confronting Collignon and a voice comes from somewhere telling her exactly what she should have known that she wanted to say, and giving her the power to say it - "At least you'll never be a vegetable - even artichokes have hearts," she says, and it's perfect. Here is a picture of my personal mascot (below), drawn by the deliciously delightful Keri Smith. My personal guardian angel is trying to help me becoming "Daring Girl" - I'm a long way off, but getting closer day by day.
One thing I have discovered about uni is that it isn't the place to be shy. In my last post, people left an unprecendented number of comments about the difficulties of making friends or establishing relationship here. It is difficult, and even more so when you're too afraid to really talk to anyone. This semester, I made a point of starting with a positive attitude. After my first theatre studies class, I walked boldly up to the lecturer and told him what a good job he'd done - I introduced myself and said that it was a nice change to have such a passionate and interesting lecture and that he should be proud of himself for being so inspiring. He looked at me like I was crazy, his eyes darted around at more important people standing behind me, and he said, "Yes.. well, that's good" and floated away. Maybe he was having a bad day, or maybe he was genuinely too busy to accept a compliment, but it was crushing - someone who is supposed to act as a role model and a source of impetus for the students revealed himself to be arrogant and dismissive.
Not all the lecturers are like that though, by any stretch of the imagination. I am taking Age of Revolutions: French Revolution History - the lecturer is Professor Peter McPhee who is an absolute joy. He is the way an academic should be. He has so much passion for what he teaches, it's contagious. He plays us music and makes us watch films and isn't afraid to go off onto tangents to keep us interested. For a while, I have wanted to tell him how good he is and let myself be known, but once burned, I'm afraid to play with fire again. The way to go seems to be an anonymous note or something - anonymity suits me, I think.
Gah, I have to go to Geelong soon. Oh the horror. Rehearsal for Anything Goes, which is more than tedious at present. I think I have bemoaned the state of affair before, but let me rehash it for you: as an understudy for a lead, I'm in the ensemble as well but I have a very limited part due to the fact that they might need to pull me out at short notice. Therefore, I have all of two lines in the show. Mind you, that's two lines more than most people, but I'm craving something more. Being involved in theatre is one of the most wonderful feelings in the world; taking pure emotion and crafting it into a performance on which meaning balances. It's indescribable, but unfortunately there isn't a lot of acting involved in saying, "I want my money back!" and "I'm a sinner!". Nor is there much singing or dancing for me. Gah, let's not talk about this anymore - it'll just put me in a bad mood.
Oh, I might as well share my account of a great Krispy Kreme adventure that I had a couple of days ago. Not half as well photographically documented as Sophie's, but mine has some quirks that hopefully will make it even slightly comparable. After spending a Friday night seeing Snakes on a Plane, drinking cocktails with some theatre friends, eating pancakes and just general silliness.. Matthew, two other friends and I decided that it would be a Really Good Idea to drive to Fountain Gate at about 2am in the morning to hunt for some Krispy Kreme doughnuts. When we got there, I was a bit shocked to see about twenty carloads of people had the same idea. We lined up in the drive through (about 7 or 8 cars long) and went through, spending a ridiculous amount of money on doughnuts. We bought 4 dozen, shock! After a little more driving, we found a suitably grassy knoll and proceeded to eat said doughnuts. A random man with a dog walked past (what he was doing walking his dog in those ungodly hours, I don't know) and didn't even blink, like it was an everyday sight to see four gangly youths sitting on the hill surrounded by a sea of doughnuts. We managed about 16 doughnuts between us before we were feeling too sick to go on. Decadent and slightly gross - we had fun. The next morning was a little more restrained: I had one (1) doughnut for breakfast and had the heart to share the rest with my housemates (despite the fact that the majority of them I'm quite sure are in fact Neanderthals who either travelled forwards in time or are the result of some strange cloning program). At least it meant that I couldn't eat any more.
Overall, the doughnuts were definitely worth it. My advice: don't try to eat four at once, especially when tipsy.
I remember, back in China, I was travelling with some (in fact, quite a lot) of our UK buddies through the very heart of Somewhere with Nice Noodles, Somewhere with Funny Name, China when one of them turned around to me and said, "Jez, you don't sound like an Australian!". I suddenly grasped what they were looking for and replied, "THAT'S nord-a knoif, THIS! is-sa knoif!", followed up by an ocker-smeared, "I wunda whadd'll happen when I feed this baby ter this crocer-dile!". Naturally, all the good well-mannered Brits turned around as one and said, "THAT'S Australian!". (In retrospect, I really should have thrown in a "Gimmee your mobile number you ar*ey f***n' ****!" (Shane Warne Joke), but they got the idea soon enough). Yes, ladies and gentlemen, our international reputation has fallen upon the shoulders of, in no particular order, Rolf Harris, the Cricket team, Steve Irwin and Paul Hogan, with Russell Crowe as a backup for far more subtle times. I would rather have Ian Frazer, Fiona Wood and Peter Weir (I know he's not Australian but we'll naturalise him anyway) but that's not really what the world seems to want to know us by. And it's a shame.
I write this, of course, in light of poor Steve Irwin's recent death. I am rather ashamed to say that my first reaction to this was a tastleless joke involving babies feeding him to the crocodiles, before I realised that the rumour was actually truth, but upon later reflection this was an avoidable personal tragedy which should never really have ever happened. What I cannot fathom, however, with all due respect to the man, is the effusive level of praise that has flowed forth from Australia's media outlets which has pinned everything bar quite possibly the health of the national economy and the earth spinning in the correct direction down to the hard work of Steve Irwin. Don't ever get me wrong, for there is no doubt that he was a good man, but it reminds me somewhat of the passing of Diana in the late nineties.
Back when Diana died, there was a scurry of activity amongst all the world's media as the various papers and programs of the world all fell over each other trying to find the most lavish words of praise possible to bestow on the "People's Princess". It was almost as though they were too scared not to call for instant sainthood, and in the rush to find portraits and paint halos on them, not one media outlet really ever dared to highlight the most salient, and, in terms of a lasting message to leave the community, relevant, three points that arose from the accident; One, that if Diana, Princess of Wales had not got in the car with a drunk driver, she would still be here with us today; Two, that if Diana, Princess of Wales, had not been inside a car which had been travelling at a warp speed which was hugely dangerous to not only the occupants of her car but also all other road users, she would still be here with us today; and Three, that if Diana, Princess of Wales, had not stupidly disobeyed the most simple and basic of safety rules, and actually not deigned herself above the wearing of a seatbelt, then Diana, Princess of Wales would still be here with us today. This is not to invalidate the words that were said about Diana after her death, but more so to point out the words that should have been said, but weren't for fear of stepping outside the boundaries of what was deemed "safe to say". And because we did not learn from that history, then we leave ourselves open to repeating it.
The media in both Australia and the world has suddenly become scared of itself, especially where any sort of coverage calling for an opinion is concerned. It is almost as though they are scared of taking any path bar the line of least resistance, and pander to what will upset the public the least rather than what often needs to be said. Take the example of the recent-enough death of former Queensland Premier Sir Joh Bjelke-Petersen; upon his death, the tributes began flowing in for both Joh and Flo, with people calling them Queensland visionaries and an inspiration, mourning the tragic loss of Mr Bjelke-Petersen from this nation. The only tragedy I really saw on the national level was that he ever left the Kingaroy peanut farm; and, above all, I was completely astounded at the amount of effusive praise which spattered my Saturday newspaper like bird poo on a windscreen. Joh was known for being a megalomaniac who was highly abusive of his powers, managing to both gerrymander the electorate (ie change the electoral boundaries at will to give his National Party more seats; it even became known as a "Bjelke-Mander") and cream-skim off the top of any governmental deals which were approved in his state. My mind skims back to a Phillip Adams article in which he applied, in the days of Joh, to film in Queensland for a feature-length film. To do such a thing he had to apply for permission, and so he went to see Joh. "What's in it for me?" asked Joh, and Phillip, trying to dance around the question, explained the benefits of future exposure for the Queensland economy and the provision of jobs and employment for the film. He was abruptly cut short by Petersen, who had clearly decided that enough was enough. "No..." he said, "what's in it, FOR ME?!?"! This is the sort of man who all the major politicians in the land were queueing up to publicly bestow nothing short of sainthood on upon his death. It was quite funny, however, to see Howard doing exactly that, given that Joh's aborted run for Prime Minister in 1987 cost Howard exactly that job at the time. (Joh's entire government was later the subject of an entire police inquiry, the findings of which are both unclear and disputed to this day). For anyone who doubts Joh's lack of integrity, he won the 1972 election with roughly 20% of the vote. That's a gerrymander.
Whilst I'm on the subject, and warming up quite nicely, the other recent event that comes to mind on this subject would be that of the death of one Kerry Packer. Ever-mindful of the man's massive media presence even after his death, Kerry's omniprescient power seemed to develop a magical extension beyond the grave as various media outlets engaged in an unspoken competition to print the biggest possible picture of this repulsive bohemoth upon their front pages, routinely followed by a round of obituaries that were matched in their complete worship only by their ability to induce nausea. (And this was just the non-Packer publications! Channel Nine entered a whole new stratosphere, whilst Channel Seven was the only outlet to buck the trend, and that was to air a revengeful shitfile that they would have never dared release whilst Packer was still alive). Much was made of Packer's Cricketing Revolution which did single-handedly change the face of cricket, and also of the fact that he once gave a woman several tens of thousands of dollars. Little was made of his continually unpleasant manner, his unfathomable ability to consider himself above both the law and the tax agent (see: "Packer; inquest"), the fact that his cricketing revolution was entirely generated by profit (his famous quote, "There's a little bit of the whore in all of us, gentlemen. Name your price" to the Cricket Board resonates in my mind) and his breaking of the anti-apartheid ban in signing South African cricketers so soon after the death of Steve Biko in custody. Above all, it mentioned absolutely nothing of the reason why it had continued to mention absolutely nothing throughout his entire life; Packer's unbelievably close connections with the Governments of the day and his continual campaign to flaunt and destroy every impartial media code in this entire country. Every politician in the country was scared of what Packer could do with his enormous influence over the Australian population simply by way of Channel Nine, and rightly so.
It is not at all a fair comparison, to draw a line between Steve Irwin and the gruesome couple of Packer and Bjelke-Petersen, and it was never my intention to do so. Irwin was not a bad person as those two were; he did not make other's lives worse; indeed, far from it, judging by what has been said by family and friends. My point is more so to highlight the Australian media's inability to correct itself. I have no issue with the media saying that he was a nice guy, but to label him one of the great environmentalists is somewhat overstating it. Although I have no doubt that he loved the environment, the methods he used to film it were far from sensitive and non-invasive and one wonders just how inappropriately close one must get to a stingray in order for it to sting you through the heart. Let the man's legacy be who he was, not who we are too afraid to say he was not.
And, in the interim, hopefully the Australian media will find the ability to correct itself. The ability to deviate from the line of least resistance, if you will.
jez
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