- Listening to my neighbours rotate a limited playlist at extreme volumes that would normally be appropriate for Mardi Gras comedown parties, 14 year old girls, and the autistic.
- Seeing an aboriginal guy take a shit on Crown Street.
- Being woken up regularly on Tuesday and Wednesday mornings around 4am when the girl next door would bring home whoever fingered her at the pub and then act coy by chatting to them for 45 minutes outside my bedroom window.
- The tranny who used to steal my mail.
- Calling the police every Friday and Saturday night to come and clear away the hipsters drinking goonbags in the gutter.
- The cockroaches.
- The maggots.
- The wasps.
- The time a rat ran up the stairs.
- Finding a homeless person in my garage.
- Having your front door pissed on.
- Listening to idiots setting off their own car alarm (at least once a day.)
- Looking at your own poo was important because it told you whether you were healthy or not.
- Female pleasure was considered essential for conception to occur, so if you got knocked up in a rape you could never press charges because obviously you enjoyed it, you swampy whore.
- When you were dying, the priest would announce it at church and then everyone would come to your house to stand around and watch you die.
- If you didn’t die “properly” and went under screaming, crying, or freaking out, you were considered a huge pussy and would have to kill more time in purgatory than people who died more pleasantly.
- Rich people didn’t eat garlic because it was considered peasant food.
- Vaginas didn’t really exist. Girls just had inverted penises and if you jumped up and down enough, it would eventually fall out.
- It was considered “womanly” for an unmarried man to sleep with a lot of women, so in order to maintain his masculinity he would bum dudes instead.
- You could swaddle your baby and hang it from a tree all day while you were off ploughing fields and nobody would think less of you.
- Generally speaking, there was never any need to take a bath.
- Women had no souls, just like black people and slaves.
- People would take a dump in most places. There were no toilets anywhere and no real concept of cleanliness, so you could poop pretty much wherever you wanted and not be embarrassed about it like I was. If you were royalty you might have a “toilet” on one of your castle’s turrets where you could shit off the side of the building and your shit would slowly run down the wall into the shit-filled moat below.
- It was a pretty gross time for everybody.
aka I am doing Open Uni again.
- Pack ear plugs anytime you go anywhere because people are awful.
- You should always take spare headphones in case you sit on somebody else’s on the plane and break them with your strength/arse.
- When ordering food on your holiday, think about the country and the landscape and the stuff on it. If you haven’t seen a cow for a while, skip the beef.
- The kinds of people you want to avoid when you travel are: children, people who have children, and anyone who has written a self-help book.
- Even if you are traveling with your favourite person on earth, they are bound to annoy the shit out of you at some point. The best way to deal with this is to sweep all your belongings off your banana lounge and dump everything onto the ground, say “You want this chair? Take the fucking chair,” and then lock yourself in the hotel room and eat a whole tube of sour cream and chives Pringles.
- Overnight train is the worst form of travel after Holocaust box car.
- If someone’s body language doesn’t quite make sense, it’s probably because they are cutting open your handbag with a stanley knife and trying to steal your wallet.
- Staying at a fancy resort turns you into a jerk fairly quickly and you will soon find yourself asking a waiter where the fuck is my mojito?
- Boys don’t really appreciate spa treatments and are likely to describe an amazing and luxurious experience as “being hit with bags of seeds” or “someone wiping their hands on my face, like a lot, and those satin pyjama pants made my balls really sweaty.”
- Bugs can crawl in your mouth while you’re asleep and then you swallow them
- All girls grow up to look like their mothers
- If you flush the toilet with the lid open, poo particles drift out of the bowl and land on your toothbrush
Who has ruined your life? What did they tell you?
“You look like you’re on holidays!”
- my yoga teacher who never wears makeup
“Wowee, we’re looking very…casual.”
- my chiro, I think he might be gay
“You look nice today.”
- my boyfriend, he is obligated to say this even if I have been awake for 2 days drinking
“Are you ill?”
- my mother
- Either my local church is having AA meetings or they hold a special scumbag service on weekdays.
- During the week, you notice a lot of middle-class junkies around Surry Hills/Darlinghurst. These are the junkies who have graduated to an all-tracksuit wardrobe, but they are not yet living on the street or robbing 7-Eleven’s. They usually go to score with their bf or gf and they’re quite thin and always have a dog.
- There is an entire house full of trannies on the street behind mine.
- My gay next-door neighbour also appears to be unemployed but neither of us is willing to admit it.
- West Wing goes foooorrevvaa.
- Despite having 11 extra hours at my disposal every day, I eat a lot more when I’m not working and I go to the gym less.
- I really like candles and slurpees?
- The scummy workmen around the corner fill our recycling bin with empty chinese food containers every week after garbage night.
- If there’s no real need to shower before 5pm, why press the issue.
- The closest I have come to actual insanity was when my neighbour played this song on repeat for an entire day and a night. I cried and started looking at rental properties online.
Last night I went to yogi dancing. This is basically yoga with a deejay, and then a “freestyle” section where you “just dance” for 15-20 minutes and feel like you are in a nightclub rather than a sandstone church in Paddington with a bunch of hippies.
What to expect at a yogi dancing class
- Upon arrival, place your havaianas in a room full of havaianas. I positioned mine next to a dead cockroach for reference.
- Enter the church. Inside it is eight hundred degrees and there are four thousand hippie backpackers sitting on the floor. They are all surprisingly attractive. Make awkward small talk with some of them. There is a pile of glow sticks at the front of the room and flowing light projections on the ceiling. There is one toilet. Behind the organ.
- Meet the yogi, Angel. She is wearing a microphone headset and what I suppose you could call shorts. She has a glow stick in her hair. She is the nicest person you have ever met.
- The yoga begins. Angel takes you through each routine, then leaves you to do it in your own time. So she’ll show you how to draw circles with your heart, then leave you to continue drawing circles with your heart on your own, while the deejay plays Sigur Ros and sways at the front of the room.
- The difficulty increases unexpectedly. The poses pretty much go from swinging your arms from side to side to a headstand. You sit down on your mat, defeated. “This is bullshit,” you comment to the Irish girl next to you. She doesn’t respond though as everyone has their eyes closed.
- Angel asks you to put your mats to the side and come into the centre of the room. She shows you some basic tribal-esque dance moves. The lights go down and the class pretty much turns into a rave, complete with glow sticks and smoke machines, but without any drugs. Then you just dance, frantically, for twenty minutes. (This was an issue for me, as ordinarily I do not dance unless I have a gun to my head or a blood alcohol level greater than 0.1). You are all sweating buckets. The hippies fucking love it.
- The dancing stops and you are told to do a few “cool down” laps around the room, introducing yourself to everyone you walk past. You meet River, Ariel, and Clover, and shake their sopping hands and then you stop caring.
- Everyone does some wind-down poses to Sufjan Stevens or whatever. Angel walks around spraying eucalyptus or something over you.
- You discover a puddle on your mat and glance up towards the ceiling before realising it is your own sweat. You smell pretty bad.
- You all lie in the corpse position for 5 minutes. Someone farts and nobody reacts except me, because I think it’s funny. Anytime anyone ever farts in the world is very funny.
- Angel asks everyone to come onto her mat so we can pose for a group photo. She tells us to tag ourselves in the photo when she puts it on Facebook, so that we can all become friends.
- On the way out, Angel gives everyone a kiss on the cheek. You feel a slight buzz as you leave, but that could just be due to the fact that you are severely dehydrated and inhaled quite a bit of that eucalyptus stuff.
- This all takes just over 2 hours.
Actual helpful advice:
- BYO mat. You don’t have to, but this is a very sweaty, full-on class and you might get pregnant if you don’t.
- Take a towel too.
- If you’ve never done yoga before, take a few beginner classes at a yoga centre to familiarise yourself with some basic poses (like downward facing dog, warrior pose, salute to the sun, extended angle pose.)
- Make a booking. Classes are pretty popular. It’s $25 a pop. Deets here. That is also where I stole the above image.
- my friends will want to go to the Tav tonight and I will flatly refuse, as since I have moved to the city, I have grown out of getting shitfaced at dirty bars in the Hills.
CORRECT – in honour of the Tav’s famous night club re-opening, my school friends were extremely keen to pay $15 for the pleasure of reliving our youth by chugging breezers, dancing on a podium and getting fingered in the carpark.
- a few hours later, I will be standing on a table in the beer garden at the Tav doing shots of sambuca.
INCORRECT – I went to my parents’ house, watched an episode of Studio 60 and then went to bed. I am so boring.
- I will yell at a taxi driver and pass out in the study at my parents’ house.
INCORRECT – I was able to sleep in my old room, as the lesbian couple who has been staying there was away for Christmas.
- Mum will knock on the door at 8am tomorrow morning and ask me if I want to go to church. I will pretend not to hear her.
INCORRECT – the woman is learning.
- My brother and I will wake up 5 minutes before my parents come home from church and pretend we have been up for hours.
INCORRECT – I got up early and went for a run, then made avocado on toast and read a weight loss magazine. Oh the shame of it.
- My mother will give me a Bryce Courtenay book, which I will never read, and I will give her a scarf, which she will never wear.
CLOSE – I got a novel by Philippa Gregory (an author I liked around 2001) and a Jamie Oliver cookbook, which I will never open because I am in no way gifted when it comes to food preparation.
- My brother and I will hand each other cards containing $50. Sometimes, we just pull out our wallets and exchange notes.
INCORRECT – we have developed a new arrangement where we request very specific gifts and nobody is disappointed. I am hoping to work my mother into this system for 2011.
- My mother will drink a glass of champagne while she’s preparing a dip plate, then have a hot flush and retire to the lounge while my father finishes all other food preparation for the day.
- Our Christmas lunch guests will be church families and awkward singles, because my mother believes that the days surrounding Christmas are for catching up with relatives and in-laws, but Christmas Day itself should be spent with her spiritual family.
CORRECT – this year’s line up included some people who were our neighbours during the 80s and an elderly woman with severe dementia who stared at a blank television screen for most of the afternoon.
- My brother and I, faced with the prospect of a long lunch with our estranged childhood Sunday School friends, will begin putting away beers as though our lives depend on it.
CORRECT – I don’t remember much after 5pm.
- Lunch will include a lot of seafood, which I will remind my parents I do not eat. (“Oh how nice of you to provide for everyone. Thank you so much.”)
CORRECT – but my mother also made a ham, which was the cause of many arguments but tasted delicious.
- I will start a fight with someone about Christianity, get shut down by my mother, sulk for the rest of the meal and then leave the table as soon as is vaguely socially acceptable.
INCORRECT – however I did make several racist jokes which were met with awkward silence and a lot of throat-clearing.
- I will sit for half an hour with my cat and then fall asleep on the couch.
INCORRECT – I partied all day and drank cocktails in the pool. Obviously the cat decided to spend Christmas Day hanging out with all her loved ones (ie. herself.)
- I will wake up after all our guests have left and my dad will make up a fruit platter just for me. We will sit in front of the fan and watch a documentary about Hitler.
INCORRECT – after a drunken stumble to a BP station to purchase microwave popcorn, my brother’s girlfriend and I watched Ricky Gervais’ Science and then I passed out around 10pm.
Earlier this year I decided to go back to uni to finish my bachelor degree. I’m not sure why. It seemed like a good idea at the time. My first lot of exams was reasonably traumatic. Here is a summary:
Exam #1: Gender, History & Culture
- Wake up late
- Injure eyeball while putting in contact lenses
- Cannot ride bike due to the rain
- Cannot find taxi due to the rain
- Phone a friend and make them drive me
- Accidentally slam my writing hand in the bathroom door
- Arrive 10 minutes after the exam has started with throbbing hand
- Mistake a pair of boobs for a bum and write half an essay on dual gendered identities before realising what was actually in the photo and having to rewrite the whole thing.
Exam score: 83
Overall grade: Credit
Exam #2: Australian Studies: Images of Australia
- Arrive on time to realise exam is open book and I did not bring my books
- Decide to go home and get books, sacrificing valuable writing time
- Run up the hill of death in Ultimo, through the pissing rain, trying to find a cab in morning peak hour
- Am too unfit and have to stop to rest while precious minutes tick away
- Stand in the rain for 10 minutes trying to find a taxi
- Find taxi
- Lose it to some lady in a power suit
- Find taxi
- Drive all the way home, get books, drive back to the exam venue
- Hand over $40 in taxi fares
- Sit exam, which started 20 minutes earlier
- Hate life.
Exam score: 80
Overall grade: Distinction
I ended up withdrawing from the following study period two days after the census date, forfeiting roughly $1,400 in HECS but not really caring.
When my mum gets back from Turkey, she will read this and be disappointed in me.
#1 You start thinking about contents insurance.
You don’t own anything apart from a bicycle, a Nintendo 64, and the electric frying pan with the melted handle that your mother gave you when you moved out of home.
Maybe you should insure that junk, because it’s better than having nothing, right?
#2 Your personal comfort becomes more valuable to you than looking good.
You decide that you were stylish enough when you were younger and now it’s time to be warm and have free movement of your limbs when you go out.
I assume so, anyway.
I was never stylish at any age.
I wore hand me downs.
From my brother.
#3 Your hangovers become brutal.
They used to set in as a gentle headache, then ease off after a strong coffee and 4 hash browns.
Now they break down your door at 7am and smash you in the face with all the force of a date rapist.
#4 It becomes harder to keep the weight off.
You used to eat like a 12 year old boy, but you had an arse like one too.
Now you have an arse like Jack Osbourne.
#5 When you buy cereal, you choose the ones that promise to lower your cholesterol.
Whatever that is.
#6 You start getting along better with your parents.
You realise they’re not so bad.
You stop planning ways to spend your inheritance because you don’t want them to die so much anymore.
#7 When someone offers you free drugs, you say no because you have work in the morning.
I would never do that.