Summer in review

Second year is looming, and I have done approximately nothing to prepare myself for it. No, wait, I lie. I have purchased new stationary and a delightful handmade quilted laptop sleeve from Etsy. Not that I am superficial or anything. Actually this afternoon I’m going to a meeting about the subject I’ll be undertaking on-site in Paris (titled, beguilingly, Paris: La Ville Lumiere) in November. I’m anticipating lots of anxiety about who gets the window seat should we decide to book a group flight, and a whole lotta Zola on the booklist.

This was summer in a nutshell:

1. Holiday with the fam. I spent some quality time in the backseat of the car post-Christmas, and while six days of togetherness actually turned out to be quite a lot, it was, overall, pretty jolly. Hooray for biology!

2. Work. Cultivate a great degree of respect for people who work in the hospitality industry full-time, strange eating patterns and a general hatred for people who drink soy chai*. Work fifteen-hour days, learn the difference between duck and turkey, have arse/chesticles repeatedly squeezed by men in kitchen, feel rising Helen Garner feminist sentiments at odds with need to keep job, watch bank balance rise (despite a swift kick in the crotch thanks to car insurance and the purchase of a sleek new MacBook Pro), remember the Euro frigging owns the Australian dollar, work some more.

* A fairly safe rule to follow, like Pythagoras’ Theorum for the latte-sipping crowd: Soy chai drinker = high maintenance customer.  I realise this seems to be a gross generalisation; however, this long-time hypothesis has been all but confirmed by first-hand practical experience undertaken in Place of Employment No.1, a cafe in Melbourne’s leafy eastern suburbs where pretension is RIFE. Additional discovery made: Chai order usually accompanied by unreasonable requests for dairy-free, gluten-free, salt-free vegan meal (but with a side of smoked salmon and eggs), or repeated rejection of requested beverage on the basis of it being ‘too sweet’ / ‘too strong’ / ‘too milky’ / ‘too big’ (actual quote).

3. Being footloose and fancy-free. Yesterday I went to the bank, took a brief shopping expedition, lolled about in the sun reading The Corrections (which I recommend – don’t be fooled or put off by the Oprah’s Book Club sticker with which it’s anointed) and watched a cracking episode of SVU. BECAUSE I CAN on account of it being the holidays! It’s like being in a wormhole. Time has about as much relevance as a can of Spaghetti-Os right now.

Also: I enjoy having the opportunity to get pleasingly trollied on any given weeknight, without having to face up to an 8 a.m. tutorial the following morning. There are plenty of people who have perfected this routine, and always appear remarkably fresh-faced and chipper. I, however, am not among them.

In other news, my beloved Scarlett is institution-hopping from a small music college in South Melbourne to RMIT, not only furthering her career prospects but also facilitating our rendezvous-es with greater ease than ever before. (There is a disturbing lack of public transport between Clarendon and Elgin Streets, save for the good ol’ 96. Which is still a long way from uni when it’s ten degrees and raining and your shoes are leaking.)

I did enjoy our bi-weekly coffees at the Old Paper Shop Deli, but it’s always nice to have your best friend within comfortable log-rolling distance.  And I am, of course, thrilled on a less selfish level for Scarlett, who obviously wowed the selection panel at interview, to which she promised to wear a candy g-string and sing ‘Rock Lobster’ a cappella.  HONESTLY.  WHO WOULDN’T WANT THIS LADY IN THEIR MUSIC INDUSTRY COURSE.

And that, my friends, is that. More debriefing to come throughout the year.  Peace out yo.