Your trip to Australia in one easy lesson

It has occurred to me that while I am over here being all, San Francisco is the hilly one, LA is the movie star one, and Vegas is the casino one, you all over there might be just as knowledgeable (*cough*) about Australia. Therefore I have helpfully prepared a little tutorial for you, which should make planning your trip to visit me so much easier.

We'll start with a blank map of Australia. (By the way, Australia is the same size as the United States.)



Then we'll cut in thirds upways. The left-hand (or western) third we'll call Western Australia. The capital of WA is Perth. Apparently it's a very nice city, but as you can see, the rest of WA is just a whole lot of desert and no people.



Now we'll cut the middle third into top and bottom (or north and south) halves. The top one we'll call the Northern Territory and the bottom one can be South Australia. The capital of the NT, and my hometown, is Darwin. Directly below Darwin is the capital of SA, and my current home, Adelaide. Darwin is rural and crocodiles and kangaroos, and Adelaide is the city of churches and festivals and wineries and footy boys and meat pie floaters.



All up the middle there is another whole lot of desert, except where there is a green bit called Kakadu National Park, and where there is a big rock in the middle of the country. That big rock which you may have heard of is Uluru or Ayers Rock, and it is right next to the town of Alice Springs, if by right near you mean five hours away by car.



And so we move to the east coast, where all the people live. Cutting the left third into thirds the other way, gives us Queensland, whose capital is Brisbane, home of rainforests and theme parks.



Underneath Queensland is New South Wales, where Captain Cook and a bunch of other people landed thinking they were the first people here. The capital of NSW is a little town you may have heard of called Sydney. Sydney has a Harbour Bridge, and an Opera House, and sometimes pretends to be the capital of the whole country.

Underneath NSW is Victoria, capital Melbourne, who has a reputation for having four seasons in one day. Being that I was there in winter, I might be forgiven for thinking they were: rain, hail, drizzle, misery. The good thing about Melbourne is its cricket ground, its shopping, and its tram that goes in a square around the city, both ways, but WHICH ONE WILL ARRIVE FIRST?



So one day Sydney and Melbourne were fighting over which one could be the capital and IF YOU'RE JUST GOING TO FIGHT NONE OF YOU CAN HAVE IT. And so Canberra was born, the capital of the Australian Capital Territory and of Australia. Canberra is full of politicians and trees and snowfields.

Oops. There's an island called Tasmania, it's capital is Hobart, there is a yacht race there from Sydney, and they all marry their cousins.



And so you have it.



Australia. Any questions?

Numbers

I have two important numbers for you today.

500.

This is my five hundredth post. That is a lot of posts.

I recently deleted all my tags because they were annoying me and I was supposed to be writing an essay and so needed something to do instead. Then I re-tagged everything because I was still supposed to be writing an essay. This came a really good time and I got a great look back at everything I'd written.

I almost deleted some, but they were all ones where I'd posted a video clip, or one line about a new template. I would write some of them differently if I wrote them again, but I didn't change them. I am happy with the voice I have now, but first and foremost this blog is a memory, and the voice I had then is a memory as well.

85.

I got my first Honours High Distinction today. (It may well be my last so savour the moment.)

This was an excellent presentation which met all of the criteria. You delivered a sophisticated, confident and yet concise presentation which clearly explained your project.

Your project has an admirable depth and complexity for an Honours project, and you demonstrate a real mastery of the material. You made excellent use of question time, which served to illuminate your project even further.

Yes, I have a real mastery of watching House. It's a talent.

I'm There

Sick of listening to me talk about BlogHer? I finished an essay today. Wanna hear about that? Didn't think so.

Two things.

First of all, the lovely Kelley, like a whole lot of Australian bloggers, won't be at BlogHer this year. Or will she? She has bribed convinced a whole lot of awesome bloggers to take her with them. I like pretty buttons, so I have volunteered as well.



Pretty, no? I'm thinking I should extend this offer to any other bloggers who won't be able to get to San Francisco, but will be drinking there in spirit (and in my bag).

And secondly, I'm thinking there will be quite a few non-Aussie bloggers not going, partially because the Reach Out Tour will cover a bunch of cities that are closer to them than San Francisco is. Now, probably one or two of these bloggers will be awesome ones that I read every day and would scream like a little girl if I ever even saw.

My question is ... can I invite myself to wherever they live? Can I maybe invite myself to drinks or lunch or something with them? Is this totally stalkerish, or is this an opportunity I should seize while I am in the States?

Dude, Seriously?

I have this breakfast routine that I am very fond of.

I went through a couple of stages when I was younger of eating cereal for breakfast, but I have now come to the conclusion that cereal is a dinner food. I had a while there when I didn't really eat breakfast, because the Hall serves breakfast way early, and I had better things to do.

But now, I'm firmly back on toast.

Two slices gets me through class/a shift/an essay/a morning watching cable. The first slice is vegemite. If there is a second, it's peanut butter. (And used to be if there was a third, it was cinnamon sugar.) If I'm out of peanut butter, I'm cool with having both vegemite.

Vegemite is the key here.

And yet, when I woke up this morning, there was no jar of vegemite on the bench. No vegemite in the fridge (where I didn't leave it) or the cupboard (where I also didn't leave it).

How does this happen? I don't get it.

House and Holmes

First, an assessment update:
The four mini-essays I got averaged out to a high credit.
My annotated bibliography was a credit.
Yesterday I had my thesis proposal presentation, which went ok. They liked the topic and I think I handled the questions ok, but it'll probably only be a credit as well.

This is not cool. I don't want to be a credit student. I'm supposed to get distinctions. I don't even want a high distinction, I'm not greedy.

Anyway: House and Holmes.

That is going to be title of my thesis. How awesome is that?

I was going to do something on young adult blah blah dont care but this is going to be way better. I'm basically going to find out where House (the character) came from, whether directly from Holmes, or as a reactionary creation against feminist, psychological, or forensic characters, or whether it's a logical progression from Holmes/Dupin-hardboiled-psych-forensic-whatever.

Sound awesome? I know!

The bad side? I have to watch bajillions of House episodes. It's gonna be so. tough.

The Skywalker Story

Fifteen years ago today I was woken my parents and deposited at my aunty's house. I spent the rest of the night on the couch and when my parents called the next morning, I was informed I had a brother.

Flash forward to 1999: the year of our greatest triumph.

We (by which I mean our dad) had spent weeks constructing the go-kart to end all go-karts. We were entering our school's second annual go-kart race, and we were going to win. I must point out this was the school's second and last race ever for reasons that should become clear.

On the day, we won our heat easily, our go-kart having actual bike wheels and not wooden or plastic ones, and not covered in tiger fur but having an awesome red seat. We advanced to the finals and I even remember who we were against: the Egan boys. I was the only girl in the comp and I was going to enjoy beating them.

We got ahead, naturally, and got around the first turn. As we were going down the longest straight, I felt the Egan boys' kart ram into my heels. Of course, I went flying, but I gave Skywalker a huge push as I did. I refused to let anyone touch me, even though my knees and palms were scraped to hell, but I had some weird idea we would be disqualified if anyone 'interfered,' and tried to follow.

All of which was irrelvent, as Skywalker had continued on down the slight slope to the finish line, all by himself, meaning ... CHAMPIONS!

So today, on his fifteenth birthday, I would like to remind Skywalker of our awesome victory. That was a brilliant day and I hope you have a bajillion more just like it.

(My knees: "Maybe not exactly like it.)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SKYWALKER, MY LITTLE BROTHER.

Buttons, Parties, and Labels

I have new pretty buttons.

First of all,



and



and I also plan on this one



although shoes do make a suitcase a bit heavy.

There is also that countdown happening over there. If you're looking at the one at the actual BlogHer site and then getting confused, that would be because this one is counting down til I leave. Which is many many hours before I get to San Francisco, which is several days before BlogHer begins. (Now it's not confusing at all.)

Then there is



which is happening on the Thursday before BlogHer.

At the same time, I am supposed to be at the BlogHer Newbie Mixer, but apparently we're allowed to do both? (Why not just have one?)

And the next day, I will be at Ruby Skye, for BlogHer's Friday cocktail party.

Yo, girls: we need to plan some clothes shopping in between the Golden Gate Bridge and the really hilly streets. Seriously.

Moving on, there are now only five blogs at a time over there on the sidebar, and the archives are by year now. It's all so clean and tidy.

And in case you were wondering where all the tags went, I deleted them all. They were annoying me. And, as I'm supposed to be preparing my thesis proposal, deleting labels from 500+ posts seemed like a good idea. They'll be back. (Obviously. I'm still "supposed to be" preparing.)

I think I would have noticed

I had my six-month check-up thing for that whole boob lump thing. The lump is as much of a non-concern as it was back then, but it made for an interesting afternoon.

- Allow plenty of time. People feeling your boobs and pronouncing them lovely takes longer than you'd think.

- Assume plenty of people will want to get in on the action. Ultrasound woman, random woman who came in to let me know the radiographer hadn't forgotten about me, radiographer, the registrar, the doctor, and the med student who needs to work on both the blushing and feeling up.

- Those gowns come in different sizes. All that fresh air on your arse is a myth, at least in a breast clinic. And it really helps if you take off your bra underneath.

- Wearing the gown makes you chatty. Unless you are thirty years younger than all the rest, and also don't actually have anything wrong with you. You are a faker.

- Medical people are very trusting of patients. Seriously, I could have swiped all kinds of things. Saline 0.9% or xylocaine 1% or four different sizes of those glove things. What I really wanted to do was play with the ultrasound machine. I suppose they think leaving people half naked with goop all over their chest will prevent too much moving around/theft.

- Be worried if they don't know the difference between a mammogram and an ultrasound.

Front Desk Lady: They'll send you the bill for the mammogram...
Me: But I didn't have one.
Front Desk Lady: *checks with the woman who ticked the box on the form*
Me: *thinks I would have noticed if I'd had a mammogram*

Luckily, there's plenty more where that came from

A while ago, when we were coming home from the Adelaide Cup, in fact, we had a bit of a run-in with a ticket-checker guy, who was, to be perfectly honest, a total wanker. He refused to accept my international (as in, accepted everywhere in the world ever) student card, and threatened to fine The Pom.

Cut to yesterday morning. My multi-trip card has run out, so I put in four dollars (four dollars!) for a day trip ticket. Which the machine did not spit out at me. Whatever.

Cut to yesterday afternoon. No way am I putting in another four dollars for another ticket that I probably won't get. Of course, Wanker Ticket Guy chooses this day to be a wanker on my train. (Wankers On A Train: In Theatres This April.)

Essentially, he didn't believe I'd tried to buy a ticket, which, why should he? He pointed out that if it happens again, it won't look very good. Quite frankly, WTG, I don't care how it looks. The fact is (it is still a fact even if I can't prove it) that the machine was at fault, not me.

What really pissed me off was that he asked to see my student card (which I now have and would have been travelling on had the four bucks bought me something more than sweet FA and a headache), then kept it to copy down all my details. He demanded my address and date of birth, which, as I told him, I was not comfortable giving out. He couldn't give me a reason why I had to give it, instead asking if I was listening to him. Yes, Wanker, I am, but you're clearly not listening to me. More threatening of fines. In the end, I gave it to him, because I couldn't discuss without sounding like I was arguing.

I plan to keep travelling on multi-trip tickets, to avoid all this ticket-buying hassle. If, however, the machine doesn't work again, I will not be giving them yet another four dollars. If they ask to see my ticket, I will again explain the situation. If they don't choose to believe me, I will fight it. I am not going to be out $120 for something that was not my fault.

Bitchy McRant

Note: This would all be a non-issue if we could do private posts, BLOGGER.

Jollan and I were having a conversation the other day about whether you need to publish or just write for blogging to be effective.

I said just write but am thinking of taking that back.

I wrote a post last night that was never going to be published, but I find myself wanting to show you anyway.

I won't publish it. One, it's very bitchy and I don't feel the need to offend the person it's about. Two, it's highly irrational. I am very aware of this, but I can't help it.

If you want to read it, email me. It's not about you, so don't worry about about that, and you might find me being ridiculous entertaining. Or boring.

There, now I've blogged about it. The world is in balance once again.

Study Day

Once again, the internet is proving itself supremely helpful.



No shit, Sherlock. (Oops! Spoiler!)

By the way, I have an awesome routine going. TV, food, read blogs, write an essay, check a random definition, check blogs, check email, finish essay, TV, etc.

Incidentally, isn't it a worry when Hannah Montana is the best thing that cable TV has to offer?

Edited To Add:

10:33pm: Woohoo! I'm done! Four mini-essays written and handed in. I feel very on track over here, how about you?

Unsubscribe

The past couple of days I have been going through my Bloglines links and unsubscribing to the ones I don't read anymore, for whatever reason.

It doesn't mean I don't still love you! In fact, Bloglines won't let me stop loving you.

Everytime I unsubscribe, it asks me if I am sure. Yes, I am sure. I cannot get away with having a bajillion blogs to read when I am already documented as having study issues this year. Then the link disappears from Bloglines. Bye! I will miss you. But then it must have missed me too, because next time I go into Bloglines, probably five minutes later (I am trying to write an essay, after all), it will have reappeared.

Maybe I have to unsubscribe three times before Bloglines will believe me? Maybe these bloggers have put some magic Cannot Unsubscribe thing on their blogs. Maybe Bloglines put that Unsubscribe button there merely for decoration.

Which is all kinda cool actually, as long as they write my essays for me.

Idol

I gotta say, I am rarely impressed when people write about reality shows. People who don't watch it don't care, people who do already know this shit.

But I thought I'd share with you that I am really getting into American Idol.

When I started watching (two weeks ago? three?) I was not a fan of Syesha or Carly. But I thought they both rocked out last night, and I was disappointed they were in the bottom two this week. Any other week would have been fine.*

They did that to me before. The week whatever her name was with the horse left I kinda liked her.

Brooke is going to have a nervous breakdown. David Cook is hot. That is all.

*That shit with the t-shirt will never be fine. Neither will starting over, Brooke.

On Track

I did say I would get on track. And I always intended to. But today it has actually started.

I have been saying all along that "I am not good at uni anymore," which was true but irrelevent. If you're not doing it properly, how about you change what you're doing? (Or not doing in my case.) So I did. I sat down and wrote the first of four mini assignments for one of my classes. Pretty sure there's a major essay but whatever. Ignore it til it goes away. Just kidding!

ANYWAY, my big awesome discovery during that was this: remember the book I didn't read? Yeah, it's still not read. After reading through the questions (always helps!) I found not a single one based on that book. So I subconciously picked the right week to flake out, knowing that I didn't need to read it. Whoo!

(Shut up, Mr Improve Yourself Read The Readings Engage In Discussions.)

Now I am off to do yet more work. Uni work twice in one day! What is the world coming to?

Wardrobe Unfunction

Remember when I went to Oakbank?



Not really, I'm sure, cos I forgot to tell you anything about it, like the fact that I bought a yellow necklace thing.



While I was at work last night, I designed an entire outfit around this necklace. The outfit involved a yellow ribbon threaded through the belt loops in my shorts and tied around one of them. (It looked much hotter than that sounds.)

HOWEVER. Tequila shots + the 'once you break the seal' phenomenon + A FRICKING KNOT: how did this seem like a good idea?

The greatest moment of my week...

...was typing this to you.

From my internet, which is now no longer not working.

Three days is too long for you to take to fix some cable, do you understand?

Especially when I am sick. Luckily, I think I will be almost not sick tomorrow. Which means today I am almost almost not sick. It's a process.

Wah. Am Sick.

On Friday night, I woke up every two hours. Almost to the minute. Turns out if you can't breathe, you can't sleep.

On Saturday, I went shopping. I thought I would be ok, and fair enough I didn't die. However, I had a very "meh, it'll do, no energy to decide" attitude going on, which meant I bought pretty much everything I tried on. On the plus side, they are all hell comfy.

Today, I went to work at 1. As it happens, my shift started at 11. Oops, my bad. I was busy though. Those Sunday morning Friends episodes won't watch themselves.

The bottom line:
1 x Annotated Bibliography done and handed in.
5.5 x discs of House season two watched.
1 x sooky Missy.

Comment / Answer

Told you I'd be back. As you can see, we're getting there:



Anyway. To BlogHer! And beyond! No seriously. Let me explain.

Firstly, there's this site/organisation/community/thing called BlogHer. Go there, I'll wait.

And BlogHer has a conference thing every year, where they teach you stuff.

More importantly, it's where you meet a whole heap of awesome people and go to cocktail parties and things.

And finally, you visit not only San Francisco (where the conference is being held this year), but LA and Vegas and wherever else you can go before you have to get back home and write the second half of your thesis.

Holly, I'm not sure if that was helpful, but it got me out of doing my assignment for a while so I'm happy. Any more questions, send them over. You know I'll take a break just for you!

Comment / Question

Holly said...
Ok, I've never even heard of that before...enlighten me?

Now here is the thing. I never know how to reply to people who ask things in the comments. Firstly because I can never tell if you (not you personally Holly, just you the world) actually want an answer. But mainly because I don't know if you want an email, or a reply in the comments, or a whole post.

I know some of the "big" bloggers make a practice of replying to every comment by email, which ... dude, that's a waste of energy. And I know some who reply to every comment in a comment. And I know some who ignore comments like "Oh wow" or "That's so funny!" or "Me too!" which is exactly the response that is required.

So that is part one of this topic: if you ask a question in the comments, do you expect a reply from another commenter? Or would you like a comment / email / post from me? What is it that you want?!

(Holly, we'll get to your question in the next post. Now I have to go and do another third of my assignment.)

Countdown!

A HUNDRED DAYS! OMG! How exciting is this?!

I am very excited. I am convinced this is going to be totally awesome.

And GUESS WHAT I HAVE!

TICKETS!

Plane tickets! And a ticket to BlogHer! Hotels don't give out tickets or I totally would have got one of those as well.

Point is, it is for sure for real. Like, it's actually going to happen! BlogHer08 is going to happen, in San Francisco, and I am going to be there.

Tell me you will be too.

Don't leave it all to the last minute

How many times have we all been told that? And I even believe that it's good advice.

But it is Wednesday night, and I am two-thirds of the way through an assignment I just started today. I figure another third when I'm done here, two thirds tomorrow, and hand it in on Friday morning. I'm hoping all that adds up to one awesome assignment.

I am so not happy with the way my Honours year has been going so far. I would love to say it's all going to be great and this will never happen again. But I would be lying to you. And I don't do that. Cos I love you.

But dude, this will happen again. I will be busy lazy all the time. I am just almost kinda caught up, but I will be behind again in about 2.3 seconds.

Next semester will not be any better, I can tell you that right now. I will get back from BlogHer a week or more into semester. Behind, again, some more.

I am not particularly happy with myself about this whole thing.

HOWEVER, this blog is not meant to be all angsty and shit. Exciting post coming up!

No, really?

I just wish someone had told me this beforehand.

Just Friends

I feel ripped off when the drum claps do not match up with a character's actions.

Is this just me?

Back On Track

Last Friday, shitty day that it was, may have actually been a good thing.

Call it a wake-up call or whatever, I plan to do better from now on. Well, maybe from tomorrow or Thursday on since a certain awesome person has sent me movies and episodes and I will be quite busy for some time.

In aid of all this betterness, I am back to my usual checklisted self.



Isn't it pretty? I feel more in control already. Plus, I have a meeting with Supe, my as yet unmet supervisor, on Monday, which should make the whole thesis thing less vague. So really, it's all going to be ok. I may even cross some things off of that pretty list thing up there. (Shush! No! Don't want to hear it.)

My bags are packed, I'm ready to go*

Have you guys tried this?

It's this cool little thing whereby you can search for places by average temperature. How brilliant is that?!

(In case you're wondering where all this is coming from, Adelaide's heat wave is over, and it has occurred to me that I may not be properly warm again until summer kicks in again sometime around November.)

After searching for places with an average temperature of between 25 and 40 degrees, I have concluded that I am moving to the Caribbean. (Honourable mentions to Egypt, Florida, Greece, Spain, and the UAE. Nice try.) Who wants to come with?

*In hindsight, this may cause some title repitition problems in around 106 days 18 hours and 9 minutes, but we'll deal with that then, mkay?

Dear Work

Dear Manager-Type People,

When you WAKE SOMEONE UP and want to ask them a FAVOUR, you might want to NOT MAKE FUN OF THEM in the process. And also, if you want to get really crazy, maybe you could apologise for waking them up.

Love, Missy.


Dear Payroll-Type People,

Yes, I did in fact want that extra time and a half for working on Easter Saturday, because, as it happens, I worked on Easter Saturday.

Love, Missy.


Attention Customers,

Our fold tables have been completely re-folded and look absolutely perfect. Please make your way over there at your early convenience and fuck them right up.

Thank you for shopping at ASS.

So Not

Last year I did so well. I was focussed and motivated (mostly) and prepared.

Now? I've lost it. My study mojo has gone to shit.

After being pulled over by the cops last night for riding unregistered, I got a bus to uni this morning that got me there with about thirty seconds to spare.

First class, we were discussing a book. As everyone I was chatting to on msn last night knows, I was totally bragging about having read a book for uni. Um, genius? Wrong book.

Next class, bring two essays and look at a bunch of websites. After a mad dash to the computer room I had two (fairly irrelevent to the task) essays. "So guys, what did you get out of the websites?" Uh, me? Yeah not much, y'know?

Luckily the topic of conversation was essay writing and structure, which, as we know, I can fucking rock.

I made it work only fifteen minutes late (thanks, buses) and Friday afternoons at the centre are hell fun, as it turned out. I rock the petrol station shop person as well.

We do need to work on the study habit thing, however.

I AM a student AKA So many questions

The BA Office ladies overrode whatever system wouldn't let me enrol and signed me up for all my classes. In about five minutes. WOOHOO!!!

Question: Why couldn't you have done this weeks ago?

My name was recorded by the dude on the train who wouldn't let me travel on a student ticket because my Flinders student ID was not valid (then, it is now) and my international student ID wasn't acceptable.

Question: Isn't the point of an international student ID that it's valid anywhere?
Question: How about you don't sell tickets to people without valid ID so they don't end up ON A TRAIN with no money and no ticket?
Question: If that chick hadn't given me change, what would you have done?

Question: Is that even how you spell the word 'question'? QUESTion. KEWSTyun. KooWESTeeon.

Happy Easter!

As I said, this is my first Easter on my own. Last Easter was my first away from home, but my boys came down to visit me and have lots of fun and go on Easter-egg hunts and Aldinga Beach hunts.

Easter at home means chocolate, scones, and lots of church.

I remember I managed to get out of Holy Thursday mass at the end there. Work? Basketball? Teenage tantrum? Something like that. Good Friday was always long and freaking hot. Ironically, we got out of church on Saturday, the day that we usually had to go. I actually really liked Easter Sunday, because, dude, it's Easter.

First, there would be Easter eggs. The Easter Bunny always left some for our cousins as well, which was nice of him. Then there was mass, which was always ridiculously early in the morning but everyone was wearing pretty colours and there were always heaps of our friends there and everyone was happy. Then, THEN, we would go to the cousins' house for morning tea. And not just any morning tea - scones. (We will come back to this.) And of course there would be Easter eggs for us there as well. (Does that seem weird to anyone else? Like, why didn't ours all show up in our fridge and theirs in their fridge? And how did the Easter Bunny make sure it all balanced out? So many questions.) And we would be tortured by oldies music and jokes and maybe go for a swim or watch a movie and definitely eat a lot of chocolate. (I was actually always slow on eating chocolate after that first day. I stretched it out for a good long time. Anyone else do that?)

This year was just a little bit different. I had uni and work all day Thursday. Friday, Jess and Eric came over. They and the housemates played Risk while I watched the Friends marathon. We got fish and chips for dinner then the boys watched Rambo while Jess and I watched The Patriot. Then we all watched some poker championship thing. (A lot of watching here. But hey! It's a holiday.)

Saturday, I worked all day. On the way home I went to Coles who were shut (bastards). Which means no scones for me. Seriously, that is what Easter means to me. Scones, fresh from the oven. Even if I had to burn make them myself.

Unfortunately, that was not to be. Instead, I slept in Easter Sunday til like midday. (Oh yeah, I've still got it.) Talked to the boys. For breakfast - cheating on scones with hot cross buns. My plans for the rest of the day include tv, internet, and straightening my hair for tomorrow (Oakbank races).

Wow, that was long. What are your Easter traditions? What do you need to have for it to feel like Easter? And are you any good at making scones?

PS: No Easter eggs magically showed up in my fridge this morning. But the Housemate did bring some home from work yesterday which he then left out all loose in the door of the fridge. I'm thinking they will 'magically' disappear before he gets home today.

Lessons and Observations for the Week

I composed a lovely bullet-pointed post sometime. Maybe on the bus or when I was having a nap. I don't remember what it was but it was awesome. It went something like this:

A game where people don't even score any goals can still be kind of exciting.

It can also be a bit boring. (You can tell this because even the boys are admiring the sunset over the stadium instead of that awesome kick thing that player dude just did.)

Adelaide does know how to rain. Very very coldly. (Incidentally, how can it be only 16 degrees at 5 in the afternoon? That should not be legal.)

Plan a better way to get home than 'we can walk it.' There may not be a 'we' and then where will you be? (Ans: At the hall. Under Jollan's loft bed. Thanks hun, so much.)

People will give you Easter eggs around Easter time. Like at the Hall, at uni. Not at work though. I feel ripped off. Maybe on Saturday.

This will be my first Easter in my new house. Also my first Easter all on my lonesome. Do you think the Easter Bunny will find me?

The End

After 15 days in a row of over 35 degree* temperatures, looks like Adelaide has realised it's not actually meant to be having summer anymore.



Damn. I'll miss you, summer.

*95°F. I think the maxiumum we got up to was around 41/42°C - 106°F.

Last(?) First Day

BA Office (Wednesday): Sure, no worries. It should take about a day, and then you'll be able to enrol.
Me (Thursday): *Tries unsuccessfully to enrol*
Me (Friday): *Tries unsuccessfully to enrol*
Me (Friday): *Goes to class, not yet enrolled*

I'm not holding my breath, BA Office.

Maybe I just wasn't in a very receptive mood (after all, 9am Friday is not my best time) but I do not like the people in my classes.

They are all creative writing or drama people. Which means they think they are so creative and individual. They pride themselves being all left-wing and un-mainstream, but you know what guys? If you're ALL doing it, it stops being individual and becomes mainstream. They believe they're so free-thinking, yet all the while they are trying to impose their way as the only right way of thinking.

Plus, they're all old and/or fashion challenged. Seriously, how am I meant to work with these people?

It'd be an Honour

I re-got a signature. I re-filled in the form. I re-handed it in. They'll get back to me.

I went to buy the book of readings for the first class. But wait, I don't have a student card so I can't. But I can't get a student card because I'm not enrolled. I could provide my timetable, but hang on. I don't have one those either cos I can't enrol. The solution? Get a letter from my Honours convenor. Who has nothing better to do than write letters for me that I could have gone around a corner and written for all the effort it took and all the attention they paid to the letter, once it was procured.

I decided to be a good little Honours student and do the readings. Before class even. What I didn't take into account is that there are EIGHT. For ONE CLASS. For the FIRST WEEK. Which means I just did forty-five pages of readings. And suddenly, ten thousand words doesn't seem like that much to write at all.

My New Favourite Show

I had never seen an episode until I moved in, but Whose Line Is It Anyway? has to be our most-watched show. I am now in love with Wayne Brady.

This clip (or rather, Ryan Stiles's verse) is freaking hilarious. Unlike myself, he is not a fan of the Hoedown.

Heat Wave

Ok, I bow down to the heatiness that is Adelaide.

Darwin can do it more consistently and wayy more humidly, but when Adelaide decides to be hot, it really goes for it.

From ABC News:

Adelaide will get its longest hot spell since records began if the temperature gets above 35 degrees Celsius today.
[It did.]
Adelaide has sweltered through an eight-day heat wave eight times in the past, but there has never been a nine-day run.
[Until now. And here's the kicker...]
The hot weather is expected to continue for another week.

You know what this means! Beach, pool, and more beach!

Adelaide Cup

Living With Boys

Lesson One: Supposing a boy is considerate enough to ask if you need the bathroom.

The answer, always always always, is "YES! YES I DO. AND I AM GOING THERE RIGHT NOW."

This is true even if you have no need of the bathroom and do not in fact think you will need it at any time in the near or distant future.

Bathroom. Going. Right now. Definitely not later.

Never Mind

So, the discussion about the strip club turned out to be academic. (Wow, strip club and academic in the same sentence, who'da thought?)

The Lads have decided that it should be a Lads Night. Which ... I said that right at the start (and not just because I was being a chickenshit about going).

We have been invited to partake of the festivities ... AFTER midnight.

Some of the girls (not me, see above re: chickenshit) got a bit offended at being disinvited, and declined the generous timeslot we'd been offered.

So we're going to the movies. That'll show 'em.

O-Week: Again, Some More

Here's the rest of the week:

The Tonsley:



Hannah's 19th:



Benny's "18th":



The Fringe Festival:



The Cricket:



(Ok, so the photos are on The Pom's camera. But you get the idea. We were busy, ya with me?)

Now I Get It

Now do you remember why it is so much better to have YOUR bed to YOURself?

A little something called sleep.

I swear, I am getting the masking-tape line happening if the people-staying-over-after-BBQs thing keeps up.

Be Careful

You should always listen to your friends. They are always right.

Even when "You could get hurt" sounds a lot like "You might get in too deep considering there's a limited time-frame here."

You should know that they're psychic and are actually saying "He could decide that you might get hurt and therefore yell at you for being a typical woman even though you had no intention of getting hurt and JUST WANTED TO HAVE SOME FUN DAMMIT."

They may also be saying "He could decide that you have made him violate some kind of guy code and therefore... No actually, he won't reach a conclusion, you will have to end it and then pretend that we're all best mates from now on."

Screw you, all my friends, for being right. But thank you so so much for listening to my rant at 2/3/4am. You are the best.

How Crazy Is Too Crazy?

As part of The Pom's Aussie Reunion Tour, he and 'the lads' are having one big reunion night at the Crazy Horse.

Two things:
1. The Crazy Horse is a strip club.
2. 'The lads' also includes girls of his acquaintance, which in turn includes me.

My question is, do I go to the Crazy Horse?

On the one hand, it's Reunion Night.
On the other, it's a strip club. They're degrading to women or whatever.
On the I Am Running Out Of Hands hand, it could be hilarious.
On the Over To You hand, I can't make a decision without your input.

Horse or not? Supply valid reasons to support your arguement. Or bribe me with booze. ("Ooh! Booze at the Horse!")

Also, have you ever been to a strip club? Why and how and would you go back or would you never ever go in the first place?

The World Is Crazy

- SuperTiff.com has been hijacked! Stop by for some babbling. (Everyone: We get that here, durrrrr.)

- We walked to Brighton today. For everyone NOT in Adelaide, that is a long way. Not as long as Jetty Bar to home, but long. Especially in 40 degree heat. (FENIA: That is HOT.)

- The BA Office has sent me two letters, in which they:

(a) offered me admission to the BA [which ... I already have] and subsequently informed me that
(b) graduation is in April [which ... first of all, I want to do Honours, not graduate, and second of all, you just offered me admission, think I'm going to get through four years in two months?] and also were happy to tell me that
(c) I am eligible to apply for Honours [which ... I ALREADY DID THAT].

So I've filled out the form that I already filled out and gave to them, and now I have to see the convenor I already saw, and hand the form in at my their earliest convenience.

HOPEFULLY, after all that, they will then send me a letter telling me I'm in. For reals this time. No seriously.

O-Week: Jetty Bar

I did not know at the time but these photos from Jetty Bar sum up the week pretty well.

This did not seem like a very important moment (and it certainly doesn't look like it) but this was the first time HM and I went out with the Pommy Bastard. The Pom had lived at the Hall a few years ago, was mates with HM, and is back for two months for a visit.

That afternoon, HM had introduced us and was all, "The Pom's going to be staying with us for a few nights." And so began the awesomest week ever.



Part A: Introducing ... the Brown O-Group Leaders! Scav Hunt is one of the best parts of O-Week. And Shelle and HaMad did a great job getting their group to do all the tasks as a group. Good work chickies.

Part B: I miss you guys! It is strange not being down the hall from anyone anymore (except HM I guess) but we're making sure we make an effort. Love ya's!



You would not believe how much walking we did this week. This night we walked home from Jetty Bar - it's a Scav Hunt task, not that I got anything out of it. But I didn't do it while I was at the Hall so now that I've done it I'm really allowed to leave.



We also walked home from the Tonsley, Shags, and all over the city. I'm tired. But even though O-Week is over, we have things planned for every day this week. Blame The Pom.

O-Week: Bush Dance

So begins my (hell late but you'll forgive me) O-Week 2008 Recap.

The Housemate (henceforth 'HM') and I didn't actually go to Bush Dance.

Instead, we stayed in and watched the cricket and Sarah Connor.



We also got dressed up in cowboy hats and sang (him) and danced (me) to Home Among The Gum Trees.



Yeah Bush Dance!

Devastated

Dear Ms [Missy]

[Blah blah blah] received your application [blah blah blah] regret to inform you that your request has been denied.

[You may now proceed to one or more of the following:
a) have an aneurysm
b) burst into tears
c) sit for a full minute trying to process what in the hell is going on.]

Sincerely
BA Office [Life-ruiners].

I did then proceed to option D which was to go to the BA Office and demand request that they explain themselves.

One administrative error and a heart attack later, they will be looking at my file and sending me a letter later in the week to tell me I'm back in.

I fricking hope.

Just so you know I'm still alive

We've just had O-Week.

We've had Hall events to crash, Pommy Bastards staying with us, lots of drinking. It's been bloody awesome, but I am hell tired.

I am chilling tonight with NO alcohol, maybe an episode of Sarah Connor, and sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

My Bad

You know how some people have faces that could stop traffic?

Turns out, not only do I stop traffic, I cause accidents by doing so!

Seriously, there I was, minding my own business, waiting to cross the road, when this lovely guy stops for me. So does the lovely lady behind him. Not so much the dopey guy behind her.

The woman lost her whole front bumper - it was impaled on the first guy's towbar. No-one was hurt thank god.

Luckily, I have the Scarlet Lady back now, and will never walk across a road again.

BIG! NEWS! PART! TWO!

(See Part One for some BlogHer-related excitment.)

Remember when I had my Last Class Ever? And then everyone was all, you'll be back. Well, they were right.

I'm doing Honours this year!

That sounds so damn smart and intelligent, I'm a little shocked they're letting me in.

So, who wants to write 10 000 words for me?

Happy New Year

Do you have ANY IDEA how hard it is to find a calendar in February?

And not even a nice calendar. Just a calendar full stop. Any calendar would be fine.

Ok, that's not true. Because I did eventually (and I mean seriously eventually, like, all over Marion eventually) find a couple of calendars. However, I am not into puppy, kitten, horse, or rose themed ones and therefore I almost had to go without.

The one I eventually bought? Scenes from Adelaide. How freaking not awesome. And yet, better than the $5 yachting calendar I could have had.

If Only

If my shift hadn't been changed I would have started at 9 instead of 12.
If I'd started at 9, I would have discovered the flat tyre in time to catch a bus or train.
If my shift hadn't been changed from eight hours to five it wouldn't have been forced to be none.
If I had known I would get the day off I would have gone to the basketball.
Grr.

BIG! NEWS!

OMG, I am so excited!

I feel like a crazy crazy-person who does crazy things. Two very exciting things today in fact. You can hear about one of them today and the other one next week if it pans out.

Guess what?! I booked my flights! I am officially flying to BlogHer!

Plus, I get to visit New Zealand. Or at least Auckland's airport. Which I'm sure is so different to all the other international airports I've been to. After all, it's in New Zealand.

I will be in San Francisco for six days, LA for three, Vegas for at least three, maybe five, or maybe two more days in SF.

Speaking of, does anyone want to come to Vegas with me? Seriously, it will be awesome, I promise. It's Vegas.

And finally, I recommend you do all your travelling while you're a student or before you're 26, because dude those are some expensive full-price tickets.

I need a ruler

So, I'm filling out one of those online application forms that I'm pretty sure goes straight into the spam folder, when I come to this:



"Achievements." Let's see.

ASS: I held down counter all by myself for a whole day while Counter Chick and Manager Guy were off enjoying themselves at the Big Day Out. I even managed to count the money right at the end of the night.

Darwin Childcare: I consistently put a kid to sleep who never ever wanted to go to sleep. I managed to convince a kid who never ever ate anything except sandwiches and hot chips that mashed potato was just like fries, here take a bite. I managed to think up a new hairstyle almost every day for the cutest kid in the world.

What is it that they're after, exactly?

Attn: Facecrack

Hey Facebook.

Here's a tip: if you have to create a button so people can delete their thousands of unwanted requests, maybe you should stop with this YOU MUST INVITE A BAJILLION FRIENDS BEFORE MIDNIGHT thing.



Ya think?

What's New?

Yeah so after all those moving posts, I kinda ran out of things to talk about. So we're going to manufacture something for ya.

I am in my new house. My new room is only missing a wardrobe and my clothes. Everything else is set up and colour co-ordinated. Oh, and I need to buy a big mirror. And a big photo frame so I can put lots of photos on my wall.

I have a shower with awesome water pressure. I feel like washing my hair every day just cos I know the water will get all the shampoo out if I do. (My hair does not like being washed every day, so I'm resisting the urge.)

I have cable. This is a bad thing. I planned my shopping trip yesterday so as to not interfere with Sabrina's wedding. Also going on: House is still a prick, Maddy does a decent musical bitch, and Elliott wears a lot of red lipstick to help her through her breast cancer. Maggie is about to die, Kim Possible saved the world again (as do Buffy, Angel, SG1, and the Halliwells) Jess crashed Rory's car, wacky magical hijinks ensued, Kate loves Dave, Luke loves Angie (so does Pete), Mickey loves Georgia, Mac hasn't met Harm yet, Meredith loves Derek no wait Derek's with Addison no wait he's with her sister. xoxo.

I'm working in childcare and at A Sports Store. This is fun. Mostly.

I haven't starved yet, and in fact have even cooked things. With ingredients. On the stove. Downside? Washing up. Oh yeah.

So, that's me. How you doing?

Tell Me

Borrowing this from Huckdoll.

In the comments: one word to describe me.

Go!

This post was brought to you by Ikea ...

... and my mad skillz with an allen key.

Aaaaand ... We're Back!

Back to the neverending move.

The main thing I did yesterday was put my shelf unit thing together:



And once more with all the sides on the right side and up the right way:



And all the movey goodness for your enjoyment:

Not so common

Let's take a break from all the moving crazy-talk, hey?

Common courtesy. Seriously, I am big on this. As should we all be.

If I am going through a door and a mum with a kid in a pram are going the other way, I will step out of their way. That's just polite.

You know what else is polite? A thank you, a smile, even a nod. That'd be nice.

A simple acknowledgement of the other people in "your" space.

Missy had her first dinner party ...

... and all you got was these lousy photos.




Rest assured there was pizza and garlic bread and ice-cream. It was yummy.

New House

Time: 6:50pm
Mood: Crazy excited

Hey guys! Guess where I am?

On my new wireless internet, in my new lounge rooom, in my new house!

There are pictures, but they are on my camera, and god knows where the cord is that would make them appear here.

Update:

Time: 11:41pm
Mood: Content

Tasks completed:
Wireless internet activated.
Bed put together. (Those little things aren't supposed to click in. Are they?)
Desk put together.
Chair put together.
Steak dinner cooked by housemate consumed.

See you in the morning for Round Two.