Housemate Irritations

Blah blah love my housemates.

Here is a list of some of the little annoyances we're currently facing in the GirlHouse. I'll let you decide who is the perpetrator of which particular crime.

Making too many plans.
Not making enough plans.
Not sticking to plans.
Sticking too rigidly to plans.
Being late.
Nagging about being late.
Doing too many chores.
Not doing enough chores.
Nagging about doing chores.
Taking the pegs off the line.
Leaving the pegs on the line.
Putting things away.
Not putting things away.
Not being home enough.
Complaining about not being home enough.
Teasing about being old.
Complaining about being old.
Complaining about young people.
Needing rides.
Refusing rides.
Insisting on rides.
Using up internet download for the month within a week.

Okay, I guess that last one wasn't very cleverly disguised. That was me, I admit it!

Tales From After School Care

I attended After School Care almost every day of my primary school life. In Year 7 I rebelled a little and either rode my bike home, caught the bus, or delayed leaving my classroom long enough to make it slightly annoying to (I would imagine) my teacher, the ASC staff, and my (fee-paying) parents. But before then I was a complete regular.

***

Early on, my mum instituted a policy of me changing out of my school uniform as soon as possible after having my name marked off. This was embarrassing to me for three reasons, although the second I probably couldn’t have articulated for most of the time the policy was in force. (Again, later on I fought it, and since by that time we were content to chill instead of running around outside, it was allowed.) The first was that no-one else had to change. Everyone else’s parents were content for them to ruin their uniforms in the dust and the dirt. Secondly, the clothes I had to change into were daggy. They were play clothes and as such were not required (or so my mum thought) to possess any sort of fashionable qualities whatsoever. And thirdly … I had to run across one courtyard or the other and go to the toilets to get changed.

Now this might not seem so bad. The ASC room was slap in the middle of the school, with the Trannies*, 1s and 2s on one side, and the Year 3s and above on the other. I, for some reason, developed a massive fear of the toilets, and the upper school one in particular. No way would I go there, and naturally, for some time I didn’t have to. The junior one was bad enough, and I could cope, if I rushed and kept my time in there to the absolute minimum. But one day (I think when I was still in Year 2, so … why? I was still a little kid and should have been allowed to use the little kids’ toilet, am I right?) the boss of the After School Care laid down the law to me: “Why are you going to that one? You can use the big kids’ toilets from now on.” And that was it. I had to face the ghost (I think it was a ghost) of the upper school toilets every afternoon, until I either forgot about it or stopped changing out of my uniform, and I really couldn’t tell you which came first.

*Transition. The grade before One and after Preschool.

***

Two of the main games I remember from ASC were Poison Ball Against The Wall and Brandy. Poison Ball was from the era when we had young and energetic caregivers, who were quite happy to stand at the front of the stage and pelt us with balls until we’d all been hit, at which time we’d all come in again. I think the appeal was that we didn’t really have to do any work ourselves. Brandy, on the other had the attraction of being banned at school. No one had ever said it was banned outside of school hours though, and we took advantage. (Damn those adults getting wise to us, though.) Brandy – which it has only lately occurred to me may have actually started out named Brandings – is where you all run around a specified space, such as the big courtyard, and try to peg a tennis ball at your friends. Yes, it hurts.

***

As we got a bit older, as I mentioned, we settled down to indoor activities a bit. When I was in Year 6, my best ASC mate Patricia and I would rush (without appearing to rush – too cool for school, man) to the games cupboard after roll call to claim Monopoly for ourselves and whatever younger kids we felt like ripping off that day. This was freaking cutthroat finance, dude, and you had to be quick. We were not above distracting our competitors in order to let someone else roll the dice hurriedly to end the turn – and avoid paying what were often massive rent payments. We were also quite the little benefactresses, and would draw the attention of the really needy to a rent they may have been about to miss collecting. After all, you can’t beat up little kids if none of them come to play. We sound terrible, but I believe a lot of fun was had – and not just by us – and hey, at least we were practicing our maths skills.

Water Play

I'm back from Darwin now, in freezing cold Adelaide. Bleh. My fingers are in the first stages of frostbite (not really, because we have our gas heater on here in the study, a thing we never used the entire time it was a BoyHouse, and ... why, exactly?) so we're just going to focus on the thing that was my main focus while I was up there: water.



My hostel had a pool (I stayed at a backpackers in the city, it was fun and cheap) and I spent some time there just chillaxing. The new-look Leanyer Water Park now has a bucket AND waterslides, and the brand new (and not just to me) Wave Pool opened the Saturday I was there.



Now, Adelaide has waterslides, but they are at the Beach House at the Bay and they cost, a fair bit. Darwin water slides? Free. Niiice.



Adelaide does not have a wave pool, and I'm not really sure how many there are in Australia. The only one I've ever been to was at Mountain Creek Water Park while I was at summer camp (which, it turns out, is in New Jersey. Did I know I'd been to New Jersey?). Darwin's wave pool? Eight bucks for a full day. I am certain you will not find a wave pool that cheap in many other places. (Although I just looked up Mountain Creek's prices, and it's possible I overestimated how much these places would charge. Hmm.)



Good work, NT Government. We do love our water up there.

'In Darwin' Is The New 'In Bed'

I have been keeping a massive secret from you all for some time now, for which I am very sorry, but it was necessary, as telling you would have meant telling certain other people, from whom I was on purpose keeping the secret. Annnyway.

Today is my brother's 16th birthday, and on this very special occasion, I am IN DARWIN! FOR A WHOLE WEEK! (Let's just pretend it is for his birthday and not due to the fact that I could see my breath in the air in Adelaide this week.) And let me tell you, it is lucky I arrived at all.

Wednesday day I had to work, which was fine. Money is good is my current philosophy. Wednesday evening I was invited to play frisbee. League frisbee. Like, awesome player's frisbee. That was very fun, and my white cleats are no longer white (and neither was my entire left side, thanks mud), so clearly I am a real player now.

(Also: When it is too cold to feel the fact that your finger is so injured it's bruised purple and black, it's too fricking cold.)

Then I had to get ready mega quickly, and go to the airport. So ... yeah. Turns out we are entirely too casual about catching planes these days, to the point where we arrive at the airport when the plane is boarding. Remember when Amalah had some flight mix-up and they were all very sympathetic? Apparently that only happens to internet rockstars. I am very very lucky they let me on the plane at all, even if they wouldn't let me check a bag.

::Insert picture of me flinging underwear etc all over the floor of the airport, trying to stuff my worldly belongings into three small handbags, and making tough decisions such as Brother's Present vs Hairbrush.::

In conclusion, I am in Darwin, it is crazy hot, and my baby brother is now SIXTEEN YEARS OLD. How does that even happen?