Monday
At 5:00am on Sunday morning, crept into Crispy's apartment to finally go to bed. In my mind, I was being really quiet and whispering so that no one was disturbed. In reality, I was semi-yelling and knocking things over as I stumbled through the dark house. Woops.
Awkwardly slept on one side of Crispy's double bed. Was disgusted when he woke up and announced that he was dripping with sweat because he wasn't used to sleeping with clothes on.
After less than two hours of restless, uncomfortable sleep, I was suddenly woken up and told that we had 30 mins before we had to leave for school. It is hard enough for me to get out of bed on a Monday morning, let alone when I am still drunk and have had less than 2 measly hours of sleep.
Crispy's milf mum drove us to school and shouted us maccas on the way. The drive-thru attendant had heavy, caked on and way-too-orange foundation that only covered her nose, forehead and cheeks. Her neck was contrastingly white and, as CookieDough described, "she looked like she got out of bed and dipped her face in a pavlova".
Just as we were almost at school, the car overheated in heavy traffic. We awkwardly thanked Crispy's mum for the lift and got the tram the rest of the way, leaving her stuck in the Bundoora Veterinary Clinic carpark.
Arrived on time for our final assembly, in which the Year 12's time capsules from Year 7 were handed out. I was evidently a lazy piece of shit as far back as Yr7, because I did not make a time capsule. I felt really sad for myself when everyone else was reminiscing.
I was entertained, although, by CookieDough's contents in his time capsule. When asked to put in a picture from the newspaper that caught his attention, he naturally cut out a picture from the sports section of two men in short shorts in what could either be interpreted as a football tackle or, alternatively, testosterone fuelled anal rape.
Media was my last class of school, ever. It ironically reflected my entire 2009 and consisted of chatting and lolling with friends while doing absolutely no work.
The second half of the day involved the whole year level being taken on an excursion to a place called 'Fun Fields'. FunFields can be translated into a big slab of land with various mediocre attractions in the middle of absolute nowhere. Although, I must admit, I enjoyed stretching the limits of how fast a toboggan can really go.
Had a major laugh when my toboggan caught up with Crispy's about three quarters of the way through the track, when we had taken off at least 300 metres after each other.
Laughed a lot when I mentioned a song and CookieDough said, "Oh! I haven't listened to that song in almost a yonk!" I also enjoyed the swimming pool attraction, without getting wet.
Overall it was fun, despite the fact that i felt like i was about to DIE at the end of a very long day.
Random: apparently, in 2004, the year I began high school, one of the Top40 hits was a song called 'Got Some Teeth?', by Obie Trice.
Tuesday
Last day of school. Ever.
The fact that this day has actually come and gone is still surreal to me now. For years and years I have hated going to school more than anything and I have counted down to the time when I am finally done with it all. Strangely, this whole year has gone by so quickly that I haven't once yearned for it to be over.
Despite the significance of this day, it did not feel all that special at the time. We had classes in the morning and then got into our Muck-up Day costumes. My mother had suggested the only good idea for what I should wear, and I ended up going as Mr. G from Summerheights High. I wore a shirt and tie with gay undertones and put a little fluffy dog on a leash to be my pet dog, Celine.
The majority of the year level dressed up for Muck-up Day as women. I don't get it. Why does everyone use their last day of high school as an excuse to wear drag? All the jocks and muzzers can do it and be seen as totally normal, yet i know that if i had worn a dress to Muck-up Day, no, that would just be weird and creepy.
At the very end of the day I wanted to sit down somewhere with my friends and wait an extra five minutes to hear the bell go on our last day ever. Because everyone is annoying and indecisive, we stood around in the foyer discussing where to sit down and eventually we missed the fucking bell. I was genuinely upset that I missed this supposedly monumental and significant bell-time. 5 minutes later, I was over it.
Because... I HAVE OFFICIALLY FINISHED HIGH SCHOOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I survived Parade College.
Wednesday
On the train, overheard a girl who was sobbing on the phone after she left her uni folio on another carriage. I decided, then and there, that folios of any form cause nothing but suffering.
On Wednesday, I also shat into a sandwich bag.
Without going into too much incriminating detail, my major Muck-up Day prank involved smearing shit around the hang-out place of some Paradians that I hate. I literally pooed into a sandwich bag, left it outside for a day and then went to my school in the middle of the night armed with sanitary gloves and made a real mess. I am both ashamed and proud to say that I did this. As disgusted as you may be, I promise I used gloves and I washed my hands thoroughly afterwards. Besides, I felt this was truly necessary for my emancipation.
Thursday
The day of my Italian Oral. Was slightly nervous but knew that I would be okay. Went in and literally chatted with 2 lovely fat Italian ladies about school and Italian Immigration in Australia after the Second World War. It was not really worth the stress and I was actually very happy with how it went.
Afterwards, I travelled for numerous hours on public transport to deal drugs at a kiddie's school crossing.
Had a HILARIOUS night with Mother Goose, RSVP and CookieDough. Under major influences, we had a 4 minute discussion about images we could see in the leaves of a tree. An excerpt of the recording I made is below:
ME: What does it look like?
RSVP: It's a devil... it has devil's horns.
ME: It's a running teddy bear... with a trunk!
DOUGH: I see a running poodle.
ME: It's got... No, it's got 4 legs AND two arms.
GOOSE: It's got three legs.
ME: Guys, it's got three limbs!
RSVP: I see a bear doing an Attitude turn.
ME: Oh yes, definitely... (gasping) ooh!! aah!! Oh, I can literally see his eyes and the tongue and the trunk and the... and the many, many legs! And one of them is really long, compared with the others. So it must have a limp.
DOUGH: Oh my god... can you see an evil face? There!
ME: okay, the elephant is back. It's waving its arms. What do you see Maddi?
GOOSE: I'm seeing... an elephant. You know from that show Babar?
We then concurred that it was some sort of elephant character from the TV show Babar, which I'm sure many of you will remember from your childhood.
I never thought Cookie Dough (the food, not the friend) could EVER taste as good as it did on Thursday night.
Friday
After my adventurous day on toboggans at FunFields, my face was a little bit sunburnt. Pleased at the first sign of good sun for months and with the beginnings of a tan, I put a bit of 'After Sun Spray' to make sure it didn't peel or anything disgusting. Unfortunately, I don't think this spray was meant to be used on my face, because minutes later my whole face was BURNING. It stung so much, I could almost hear my skin sizzling. I wanted to avoid any slight peeling from my mild, hardly noticeable sunburn. Instead, the "soothing" spray burnt my face and for the past week my skin has been flaking off like coconut sprinkles.
Saturday
Dreamt I was at a party, but snuck into a bedroom to have a quick nap because I was tired. When I woke up, all my friends had left and I had no way of contacting them; I was stranded. No one would let me borrow their phones and the only person who did had a phone with buttons that did not work, so I couldn't call anyone. I woke up feeling very anxious, not knowing where I was and trying to figure out how the fuck to get home. I was needless to say relieved when I realised I was home.
Sunday
I was NOT relieved, however, when I woke up at 7:30am on Sunday morning and had to get ready for a 9 hour shift at work.
At work, two girls came through the doors repeating directions someone had given them to find a room. "Through the door and to the left..." one of the girls repeated. I watched them as they walked in, turned to their right hand side and looked at the dead end, confused. I then told them, "Left is that way" and pointed in the opposite direction. I felt embarrassed on their behalf.
So that is my week. Even though I officially have finished High School, upon writing this, it does not feel like an epic week for me. I guess that's because it hasn't really sunk in yet. I'm not quite sure when it's going to hit. When I finish writing this, I'll probably get up to go to the toilet and my heart will stop when it finally hits me that this part of my life is over. I will go into cardiac arrest and die a sudden death on my toilet floor, my eyes still open wide, staring up at the fluorescent lights.
10.27.2009
10.21.2009
Alleged Public Masturbator
Monday
Dreamt that some fat bitch stole my cheeseburgers so I made her buy them again but suddenly I was naked.
Last full week of school. Ever.
Dreamt that some fat bitch stole my cheeseburgers so I made her buy them again but suddenly I was naked.
Last full week of school. Ever.
Had Italian Conversation Class after school like every Monday. Tried not to laugh at other students speaking neither Italian or English.
Tuesday
Organised a singing lesson with Buddy, in return for the tap shoes I had lent him the previous week. Caught the tram with CookieDough and went via McDonalds, where we had our usual extra meal in between lunch and dinner. Coined the term 'Dunch', a fictitious meal in between lunch and dinner. It is now a common occurrence for me.
Had a singing lesson in which my voice, once again, was completely different to how it has ever been before. My inconsistency is very frustrating. One day, I'm singing and I like to think I am doing pretty okay, or at least I am somewhat better than Dean K. The next day, however, I will sound like a cat being drowned after swallowing a kazoo.
Tuesday
Organised a singing lesson with Buddy, in return for the tap shoes I had lent him the previous week. Caught the tram with CookieDough and went via McDonalds, where we had our usual extra meal in between lunch and dinner. Coined the term 'Dunch', a fictitious meal in between lunch and dinner. It is now a common occurrence for me.
Had a singing lesson in which my voice, once again, was completely different to how it has ever been before. My inconsistency is very frustrating. One day, I'm singing and I like to think I am doing pretty okay, or at least I am somewhat better than Dean K. The next day, however, I will sound like a cat being drowned after swallowing a kazoo.
Met a friend of Buddy's who was hilariously mental with an equally crazy afro. Was embarrassed in the car when aspects of my previous Saturday night were brought to everyone's attention.
Found out that my mother had, once again, gone to great lengths to ruin my life. While on a holiday with her sister (because apparently when you have no job and don't do anything else around the house, you deserve a holiday), she took it upon herself to call my work and tell them that I wouldn't be coming in anymore because I have glandular fever. She told them I wouldn't be able to work for at least two weeks because I might infect young children. Firstly, the doctor said I did not need to be isolated because it can only be passed on from saliva contact. I am pretty fucking sure I don't go round spitting on children's faces at work. In fact, I don't do anything. She did exactly what I have forbidden her not to and even writing about this, I am livid.
So now I am officially screwed. I don't have a job for two weeks. I get paid at the end of every month, which is really shit already, but now at the end of November I am going to be getting paid for two shifts. This will equate to approximately $168. This measly amount is, apparently, supposed to get me through all of November.
Things I need to spend money on in November:
-Last weeks of high school/Muck-up Day
-My Birthday
-4 weeks of holidays
Wednesday
Had a dream in which my brother had a DVD of Will & Grace. Watched it with him, until it turned into a porno between the main characters.
Walking home from school, went past a man with a van. On the side of the van was written, in peeling letters, "ELTHAM WORMS". Upon looking through his window, I learned that there are people out there whose job it is to harvest, breed and then distribute worms.
Had infuriating arguments with my parents regarding singing lessons. With my end of year VCE Music Recital in a matter of days, I was told that I shouldn't be having two singing lessons on the following evening with two teachers. My mother had organised, without telling me, for my elderly, 70yo+ grandfather to drive me to the original lesson from my house. Why couldn't she drive me? Oh, because she didn't "feel like driving". Her words, not mine. Yet I am the selfish one for wanting to have two lessons on one night, even though one of them would be free.
Was then told by Mother Dearest that I shouldn't even be having any lessons, seeing as I am not planning on studying music next year. If i'm not continuing with it fully, then "What's the point?". She says this now, but as soon as I am performing for someone or succeed in any capacity she bursts onto the proverbial stage to play the role of the supportive parent, basking in any glory she can take.
Thursday
My English class went outside towards to the end of the day to study in the sun. As soon as we walked out into a nice garden area, dark brooding clouds appeared and the sun went to shine somewhere else where no one was.
Laughed a lot when talking to my English teacher, who started discussing the stigma of homosexuality in schools and how she is considered a lesbian by many for no reason other than the fact she occasionally wears leather boots. She then started saying that even if she was gay, "it wouldn't be anyone else's business whatsoever. It's got nothing to do with them who I have sex with, that's my choice. I mean, I could fuck a dog if I really wanted."
Had my two singing lessons, in the end. While my mother sat at home doing nothing except complain about how busy she is, I had to resort to asking one of my singing teachers to drive me to my other singing teacher's house. What a joke.
Was helped immensely by both of them but also freaked out at how unprepared and crap I was, three days before my recital.
Friday
The end of the last full week of high school, ever. Also the last full day of classes, ever.
It feels very strange to say that and even now, it still feels surreal. I've waited so many years to get out of a place I've hated so much. Now that I'm finally at the end, I don't hate it quite so much and I haven't even been hanging out for the end of the year. Alas, it is well and truly on its way and I'm not sure what to say about that.
That evening I had nothing to do and nor did my friend for whom I STILL cannot think of a good nickname. For now, I shall refer to her as Blondie.
Blondie came and picked me up and we went driving aimlessly. Eventually wound up in Ivanhoe. While looking for a carpark, I received a call from Selena that scared the life out of me. She told me that people had just been discussing things that I did at the party the week before that I was obviously not aware of. She also said that these things were so shocking and so inappropriate that she did not feel comfortable repeating these stories.
I am mortified. I had no idea what she was talking about but was so scared of what I could have possibly done. Eventually, I had to get her to send it to me in a message. Apparently, I had a sexual experience that I completely forgot about. I highly doubt that this is actually true and will have to clarify that over the next week or so.
But no, that wasn't even the bad part. Days after the party, one of the Bday Girl's friends went up to her and informed her that she had witnessed someone who she was sure was me, literally masturbating in the middle of the party. Jacking off. Apparently there were many other people around and I just whipped it out and gave it a bit of a pull.
This is possibly the sickest thing I have ever heard in my life and for a horrifying minute there I actually thought that maybe, just maybe, it was true. I had no recollection of any of the other crazy and stupid things I did that night, after all. At the same time, I knew that this is something I would NEVER do, no matter what situation I was in. Besides, I was drunk as a skunk. I couldn't have even done it properly if i had tried.
After borderline hyperventilating in the car with Blondie for at least 7 minutes, one of her remarks triggered something. As I was trying to figure out what on earth the true story was, she reminded me that I had that stupid allergic rash from the medication i was on.
I HAD A RASH!!!
I never though I'd be so excited to say that I had a rash that extended to my inner thighs. Obviously this girl had seen my subtly turn my body away from the crowd of people and scratch my inner thigh for a good 20 seconds to relieve myself from my itchy rash. The wave of relief that I had not, in fact, participated in my own, one-man public circle-jerk felt better than any sort of masturbation.
Saturday
Slept in, did very little. Eventually it was late afternoon/early evening and I headed over to GymStar's house to help set up for her 18th party. I especially wanted to go early seeing as I had to leave at 8:30pm due to my music recital the next morning.
For the first time in my entire adolescence, I went to an alcohol-fuelled party and did not drink. Even I am surprised and impressed with myself. Obviously I do have priorities and I could never sing properly in the early morning if I had been drinking the night before but it was a shame seeing as it was one of my oldest friend's 18th. I had a nice night though, for the brief time I was there.
Watched Smelly begin drinking her massive goon sack, which made me feel sick watching. Was both disappointed and relieved that I did not witness the aftermath.
Sunday
The day of my VCE Music Recital.
Got up at 8:00am and went for a walk with my dogs. Not for exercise, of course. Instead, I went in order to warm up my voice without waking up my family. Instead, I probably woke up the inhabitants of each house I passed with my lip trills, N-G sirens and octave slides. Sorry, Eltham North!
Felt totally unprepared but had to leave the house anyway to avoid being late. When I got there 30 minutes early was obviously judged by the dedicated music students who had probably slept over in the carpark and had been warming up their respective instruments since dawn.
Had 15 minutes in a practice room and was disgusted at the budget and facilities of Camberwell Boys' Grammar. At my school we don't even have tables to write on... we have to use music stands for all of our work. We have two classrooms and two practice rooms and one of our pianos is beyond tuning. Seeing their music department made. me. sick.
During my practice time my voice continuously cracked and a freakish amount of mucus was lodged in between each of my vocal cords. Perfect!
I went in and just got stuck into it. Was obviously nervous when my right foot had a life of its own and would not stay still or on the ground, instead it was trembling uncontrollably. Most of my songs went well, despite a few notes in which the drowning cat with the kazoo returned, however, I hope these were overshadowed by the slightly less painful ones.
After my recital I went to a friend's 18th birthday. To this day I have no idea why someone would have a party on a Sunday from 4pm - 7pm. It baffles me.
Nonetheless, there was still plenty of drinking and plenty of laughs. Afterwards some of us went back to his house and I felt uncomfortable when some of his closest friends didn't come back and instead me and my friends were there, when we're not really that close with the Bday Guy.
After eventually feeling very unwanted by about 1:00am, namely after CookieDough tried on a miniature denim dress with oversized pink buttons, we caught a taxi to go to Crispy's house instead. RSVP.com had previously left the party in order to meet his internet lover and eventually met us back at Crispy's.
Instead of actually going to his house we instead went to his apartment complex's recreation room, which was more like a luxury apartment in itself with a kitchen, balcony looking onto the pool, library and sitting room. It even came with its own bottle of wine, which we took upon ourselves to drink.
The others went to bed early and CookieDough and I continued to have a fucking crazy, random night full of laughter and at one stage intense conversations until a truly ungodly hour.
We went to bed after 5:00am and dreaded waking up to go to school the next morning, still drunk.
More to come about the last week of school NEXT WEEK.
Found out that my mother had, once again, gone to great lengths to ruin my life. While on a holiday with her sister (because apparently when you have no job and don't do anything else around the house, you deserve a holiday), she took it upon herself to call my work and tell them that I wouldn't be coming in anymore because I have glandular fever. She told them I wouldn't be able to work for at least two weeks because I might infect young children. Firstly, the doctor said I did not need to be isolated because it can only be passed on from saliva contact. I am pretty fucking sure I don't go round spitting on children's faces at work. In fact, I don't do anything. She did exactly what I have forbidden her not to and even writing about this, I am livid.
So now I am officially screwed. I don't have a job for two weeks. I get paid at the end of every month, which is really shit already, but now at the end of November I am going to be getting paid for two shifts. This will equate to approximately $168. This measly amount is, apparently, supposed to get me through all of November.
Things I need to spend money on in November:
-Last weeks of high school/Muck-up Day
-My Birthday
-4 weeks of holidays
-The end of exams
-Graduation
-SCHOOLIES
Is this some kind of sick joke?
Thanks a lot, mum.
Is this some kind of sick joke?
Thanks a lot, mum.
I. am. screwed.
Wednesday
Had a dream in which my brother had a DVD of Will & Grace. Watched it with him, until it turned into a porno between the main characters.
Walking home from school, went past a man with a van. On the side of the van was written, in peeling letters, "ELTHAM WORMS". Upon looking through his window, I learned that there are people out there whose job it is to harvest, breed and then distribute worms.
Had infuriating arguments with my parents regarding singing lessons. With my end of year VCE Music Recital in a matter of days, I was told that I shouldn't be having two singing lessons on the following evening with two teachers. My mother had organised, without telling me, for my elderly, 70yo+ grandfather to drive me to the original lesson from my house. Why couldn't she drive me? Oh, because she didn't "feel like driving". Her words, not mine. Yet I am the selfish one for wanting to have two lessons on one night, even though one of them would be free.
Was then told by Mother Dearest that I shouldn't even be having any lessons, seeing as I am not planning on studying music next year. If i'm not continuing with it fully, then "What's the point?". She says this now, but as soon as I am performing for someone or succeed in any capacity she bursts onto the proverbial stage to play the role of the supportive parent, basking in any glory she can take.
Thursday
My English class went outside towards to the end of the day to study in the sun. As soon as we walked out into a nice garden area, dark brooding clouds appeared and the sun went to shine somewhere else where no one was.
Laughed a lot when talking to my English teacher, who started discussing the stigma of homosexuality in schools and how she is considered a lesbian by many for no reason other than the fact she occasionally wears leather boots. She then started saying that even if she was gay, "it wouldn't be anyone else's business whatsoever. It's got nothing to do with them who I have sex with, that's my choice. I mean, I could fuck a dog if I really wanted."
Had my two singing lessons, in the end. While my mother sat at home doing nothing except complain about how busy she is, I had to resort to asking one of my singing teachers to drive me to my other singing teacher's house. What a joke.
Was helped immensely by both of them but also freaked out at how unprepared and crap I was, three days before my recital.
Friday
The end of the last full week of high school, ever. Also the last full day of classes, ever.
It feels very strange to say that and even now, it still feels surreal. I've waited so many years to get out of a place I've hated so much. Now that I'm finally at the end, I don't hate it quite so much and I haven't even been hanging out for the end of the year. Alas, it is well and truly on its way and I'm not sure what to say about that.
That evening I had nothing to do and nor did my friend for whom I STILL cannot think of a good nickname. For now, I shall refer to her as Blondie.
Blondie came and picked me up and we went driving aimlessly. Eventually wound up in Ivanhoe. While looking for a carpark, I received a call from Selena that scared the life out of me. She told me that people had just been discussing things that I did at the party the week before that I was obviously not aware of. She also said that these things were so shocking and so inappropriate that she did not feel comfortable repeating these stories.
I am mortified. I had no idea what she was talking about but was so scared of what I could have possibly done. Eventually, I had to get her to send it to me in a message. Apparently, I had a sexual experience that I completely forgot about. I highly doubt that this is actually true and will have to clarify that over the next week or so.
But no, that wasn't even the bad part. Days after the party, one of the Bday Girl's friends went up to her and informed her that she had witnessed someone who she was sure was me, literally masturbating in the middle of the party. Jacking off. Apparently there were many other people around and I just whipped it out and gave it a bit of a pull.
This is possibly the sickest thing I have ever heard in my life and for a horrifying minute there I actually thought that maybe, just maybe, it was true. I had no recollection of any of the other crazy and stupid things I did that night, after all. At the same time, I knew that this is something I would NEVER do, no matter what situation I was in. Besides, I was drunk as a skunk. I couldn't have even done it properly if i had tried.
After borderline hyperventilating in the car with Blondie for at least 7 minutes, one of her remarks triggered something. As I was trying to figure out what on earth the true story was, she reminded me that I had that stupid allergic rash from the medication i was on.
I HAD A RASH!!!
I never though I'd be so excited to say that I had a rash that extended to my inner thighs. Obviously this girl had seen my subtly turn my body away from the crowd of people and scratch my inner thigh for a good 20 seconds to relieve myself from my itchy rash. The wave of relief that I had not, in fact, participated in my own, one-man public circle-jerk felt better than any sort of masturbation.
Saturday
Slept in, did very little. Eventually it was late afternoon/early evening and I headed over to GymStar's house to help set up for her 18th party. I especially wanted to go early seeing as I had to leave at 8:30pm due to my music recital the next morning.
For the first time in my entire adolescence, I went to an alcohol-fuelled party and did not drink. Even I am surprised and impressed with myself. Obviously I do have priorities and I could never sing properly in the early morning if I had been drinking the night before but it was a shame seeing as it was one of my oldest friend's 18th. I had a nice night though, for the brief time I was there.
Watched Smelly begin drinking her massive goon sack, which made me feel sick watching. Was both disappointed and relieved that I did not witness the aftermath.
Sunday
The day of my VCE Music Recital.
Got up at 8:00am and went for a walk with my dogs. Not for exercise, of course. Instead, I went in order to warm up my voice without waking up my family. Instead, I probably woke up the inhabitants of each house I passed with my lip trills, N-G sirens and octave slides. Sorry, Eltham North!
Felt totally unprepared but had to leave the house anyway to avoid being late. When I got there 30 minutes early was obviously judged by the dedicated music students who had probably slept over in the carpark and had been warming up their respective instruments since dawn.
Had 15 minutes in a practice room and was disgusted at the budget and facilities of Camberwell Boys' Grammar. At my school we don't even have tables to write on... we have to use music stands for all of our work. We have two classrooms and two practice rooms and one of our pianos is beyond tuning. Seeing their music department made. me. sick.
During my practice time my voice continuously cracked and a freakish amount of mucus was lodged in between each of my vocal cords. Perfect!
I went in and just got stuck into it. Was obviously nervous when my right foot had a life of its own and would not stay still or on the ground, instead it was trembling uncontrollably. Most of my songs went well, despite a few notes in which the drowning cat with the kazoo returned, however, I hope these were overshadowed by the slightly less painful ones.
After my recital I went to a friend's 18th birthday. To this day I have no idea why someone would have a party on a Sunday from 4pm - 7pm. It baffles me.
Nonetheless, there was still plenty of drinking and plenty of laughs. Afterwards some of us went back to his house and I felt uncomfortable when some of his closest friends didn't come back and instead me and my friends were there, when we're not really that close with the Bday Guy.
After eventually feeling very unwanted by about 1:00am, namely after CookieDough tried on a miniature denim dress with oversized pink buttons, we caught a taxi to go to Crispy's house instead. RSVP.com had previously left the party in order to meet his internet lover and eventually met us back at Crispy's.
Instead of actually going to his house we instead went to his apartment complex's recreation room, which was more like a luxury apartment in itself with a kitchen, balcony looking onto the pool, library and sitting room. It even came with its own bottle of wine, which we took upon ourselves to drink.
The others went to bed early and CookieDough and I continued to have a fucking crazy, random night full of laughter and at one stage intense conversations until a truly ungodly hour.
We went to bed after 5:00am and dreaded waking up to go to school the next morning, still drunk.
More to come about the last week of school NEXT WEEK.
10.14.2009
Media Folio
I thought I'd upload my final photos for my Year 12 Media Folio.
The theme was 'First Impressions' and the whole idea was to highlight how we, as people, can come across so differently based simply on the way we look.
Special thanks to my model, Rhiannon, who manages to make the most hideous outfits look hot.
For my Weekly Update from the week of 5th October - 11th, see below this post or here
The theme was 'First Impressions' and the whole idea was to highlight how we, as people, can come across so differently based simply on the way we look.
Special thanks to my model, Rhiannon, who manages to make the most hideous outfits look hot.
For my Weekly Update from the week of 5th October - 11th, see below this post or here
The Conservative
The Child
The Businesswoman
The Op-Shopper
The Schoolgirl
The Scum
Sporty
Homeless
The Emo
The Slut
Amusing Regrets
Monday
Welcomed with open arms the second last week of high-school EVER. Met CookieDough at the bus stop, already 30 minutes late. For me, school does not begin until after 9:00am. For the first time in our lives, he was a bad influence on me. We decided not to go to class and instead had a second breakfast at the beautiful Bundoora Square.
When a small ladybug crawled on him, we joked that it would bite him and turn him into a superhero. Just like spider man, only a ladybug. I still find the idea of a male superhero called Ladybug Boy really amusing.
I was alarmed by and disapproving of a small 4 year old girl who walked past wearing shoes that had some sort of squeaking toy inside them, which made yelping noises every step she took. Wondered how her mother put up with it for a whole day, when after 30 seconds I wanted to throw my milkshake in her face.
Got to school. Realised that I had been looking at my timetable wrong and instead of having a class that i could get away with wagging from, I had actually missed my most important subject with my strictest teacher.
Tuesday
Did not go to school. Instead, I travelled into the city for an audition. Totally could have gone back to school for the second half of the day but decided against.
Miraculously, my ChineseWasherWoman had just been told to leave work minutes earlier and was also in the city. Had one of the BEST days ever. Shopping, lunch and a massage definitely beats English, Media and Psych.
Went to the Lindt Chocolate Restuarant and was served by Zac Efron's gay twin. Had really intense, philosophical conversations regarding inner-fame. We also discussed our plans for the future, or lack of them and left feeling rather aimless.
Wednesday
Actually went to school today. Finished early and went for the usual gorge session with CookieDough and RSVP. I am such a regular customer at the local Cold Rock Ice-Creamery that the full-time attendant, Doris, knows me very well. Awkward.
Went to work, avoided the crazy lady who likes to read my messages and invade my personal space and privacy.
On the way home with my dad, we pulled up at a set of lights next to an AMAZING, brand-new Lamborghini. Also at the lights was a Hells Angels gang member on his Harley Davidson. The two drivers of these amazing vehicles (next to my dad's commodore) spoke to each other at the lights and, when the light went green, literally drag raced along the freeway. I was so impressed.
Thursday
Upon arriving home from school, I had a bit of an itch. First on my arms. Then, this itch spread to my chest and stomach. Suddenly, i was frantically scratching over my whole body and had broken out into a red rash.
I assumed that it was a reaction to the antibiotics that I had been on for the past week, seeing as my mother is also allergic. Booked an appointment with the doctor for the next day but this meant I had to go through a whole night with this crazy itch.
After a very uncomfortable sleep, I woke up in the night from a fucking weird dream. In this dream, I had gotten stoned with my ChineseWasherWoman and was outside my house. I had the munchies, but there was nothing good to eat. I then started eating the dirt from the ground and I was so high that it tasted really, really good. ChineseWasherWoman then tried to stop me, after which I began vomiting poo. Sometimes I wonder what my dreams are trying to tell me...
Friday
Woke up and decided that I did not want to go to school with a red rash all over my body. Overnight, it had gotten much worse and the little red dots covering my torso had multiplied so much that they formed one giant entity of raised, red and itchy skin.
Went to the doctors. I felt rather uncertain when he didn't even look at me or pay much attention to what I was saying about my symptoms but somehow diagnosed me with Glandular Fever. Apparently, if you take the particular antibiotics I had been given and happen to have glandular fever at the same time, you will automatically develop a rash like mine. It seems that the odds were piled in my favour this time yet somehow I still get screwed over and now I have Glandular Fever.
Thankfully, I don't have most of the symptoms. The only real symptom of glandular fever that I have is constant tiredness, which I had already, previously known as laziness.
After sleeping in, watching TV and going to the doctors as my only activity for the day, that night I went to bed feeling absolutely EXHAUSTED.
Researched the alternative medication I had been given for my rash/glandular. The key symptom of glandular is exhaustion, while one of the side effects of my medication is INSOMNIA.
Another possible side effect of my medication is psychotic aggression. Watch out, is all I have to say.
Saturday
Did nothing all day and prepared for a friend's 18th. For a while I'd had a really good feeling about this night and was definitely looking forward to some fun times.
Due to my slight illness and medication, I decided that I would drink less than I usually do. This worked for about 1.5 hours, when I decided that I was fine and could handle my normal amount of vodka and coke.
This may sound like a bad excuse, but I honestly believe that the medication I had been on, mixed with alcohol, really fucked with my head. It was like I was a completely different person. I did things that I would NEVER usually do, and I have no recollection of doing any of them.
Random, uncharacteristic things I did and then regretted include:
All of these things are things that I would not usually do, no matter how off my tree I was. This is why, days later, the sick feeling in my stomach has not subsided when usually it lasts for 48 hours max.
I had told my parents that I would be home relatively early, seeing as the party finished at 12:30. The party did not finish until the early hours of the morning. Sondheim and I caught a taxi to his house, at which I drank some more and then eventually walked home. I called RSVP at 6am and definitely said really weird things that I doubt were based in truth but that I can't even remember, let alone recant.
When I eventually arrived home, I somehow was no longer wearing shoes. I genuinely have no idea how this happened. Instead I was wearing a pair of oversized, novelty Essendon Football Club slippers that Sondheim had given me. What a mess.
Sunday
Woke up at about 3pm. At this stage I hadn't been reminded of many of the details of my behaviour, so I wasn't too ashamed.
I did, however, re-read a message that I had sent to about 5 of my friends that night after leaving the party. It starts off relatively coherent but just goes downhill from there. I will fully transcribe this text message word for word, or letter for letter, as most of it does not consist of real words.
"So I may not be allowed home but where are you? If you're getting b-fast or you're lunch save is let m r rlee know nick know ee! I love you!!!! :._) xixx"
I wish I could provide an explanation of what I was trying to express.
That night I went to CookieDough's house with a couple of other friends to film his media project, which was already weeks overdue. It was a slow process but I didn't mind because it was actually really fun.
That night was reminded of many stupid things that I did on Saturday night. Actually, 'reminded' probably isn't the best word, seeing as I still don't actually remember any of them. Instead, I felt like these people were telling me stories about a completely different person. This person, I have decided, is not someone I would like to be friends with.
I will never drink alcohol while on medication again.
Welcomed with open arms the second last week of high-school EVER. Met CookieDough at the bus stop, already 30 minutes late. For me, school does not begin until after 9:00am. For the first time in our lives, he was a bad influence on me. We decided not to go to class and instead had a second breakfast at the beautiful Bundoora Square.
When a small ladybug crawled on him, we joked that it would bite him and turn him into a superhero. Just like spider man, only a ladybug. I still find the idea of a male superhero called Ladybug Boy really amusing.
I was alarmed by and disapproving of a small 4 year old girl who walked past wearing shoes that had some sort of squeaking toy inside them, which made yelping noises every step she took. Wondered how her mother put up with it for a whole day, when after 30 seconds I wanted to throw my milkshake in her face.
Got to school. Realised that I had been looking at my timetable wrong and instead of having a class that i could get away with wagging from, I had actually missed my most important subject with my strictest teacher.
Tuesday
Did not go to school. Instead, I travelled into the city for an audition. Totally could have gone back to school for the second half of the day but decided against.
Miraculously, my ChineseWasherWoman had just been told to leave work minutes earlier and was also in the city. Had one of the BEST days ever. Shopping, lunch and a massage definitely beats English, Media and Psych.
Went to the Lindt Chocolate Restuarant and was served by Zac Efron's gay twin. Had really intense, philosophical conversations regarding inner-fame. We also discussed our plans for the future, or lack of them and left feeling rather aimless.
Wednesday
Actually went to school today. Finished early and went for the usual gorge session with CookieDough and RSVP. I am such a regular customer at the local Cold Rock Ice-Creamery that the full-time attendant, Doris, knows me very well. Awkward.
Went to work, avoided the crazy lady who likes to read my messages and invade my personal space and privacy.
On the way home with my dad, we pulled up at a set of lights next to an AMAZING, brand-new Lamborghini. Also at the lights was a Hells Angels gang member on his Harley Davidson. The two drivers of these amazing vehicles (next to my dad's commodore) spoke to each other at the lights and, when the light went green, literally drag raced along the freeway. I was so impressed.
Thursday
Upon arriving home from school, I had a bit of an itch. First on my arms. Then, this itch spread to my chest and stomach. Suddenly, i was frantically scratching over my whole body and had broken out into a red rash.
I assumed that it was a reaction to the antibiotics that I had been on for the past week, seeing as my mother is also allergic. Booked an appointment with the doctor for the next day but this meant I had to go through a whole night with this crazy itch.
After a very uncomfortable sleep, I woke up in the night from a fucking weird dream. In this dream, I had gotten stoned with my ChineseWasherWoman and was outside my house. I had the munchies, but there was nothing good to eat. I then started eating the dirt from the ground and I was so high that it tasted really, really good. ChineseWasherWoman then tried to stop me, after which I began vomiting poo. Sometimes I wonder what my dreams are trying to tell me...
Friday
Woke up and decided that I did not want to go to school with a red rash all over my body. Overnight, it had gotten much worse and the little red dots covering my torso had multiplied so much that they formed one giant entity of raised, red and itchy skin.
Went to the doctors. I felt rather uncertain when he didn't even look at me or pay much attention to what I was saying about my symptoms but somehow diagnosed me with Glandular Fever. Apparently, if you take the particular antibiotics I had been given and happen to have glandular fever at the same time, you will automatically develop a rash like mine. It seems that the odds were piled in my favour this time yet somehow I still get screwed over and now I have Glandular Fever.
Thankfully, I don't have most of the symptoms. The only real symptom of glandular fever that I have is constant tiredness, which I had already, previously known as laziness.
After sleeping in, watching TV and going to the doctors as my only activity for the day, that night I went to bed feeling absolutely EXHAUSTED.
Researched the alternative medication I had been given for my rash/glandular. The key symptom of glandular is exhaustion, while one of the side effects of my medication is INSOMNIA.
Another possible side effect of my medication is psychotic aggression. Watch out, is all I have to say.
Saturday
Did nothing all day and prepared for a friend's 18th. For a while I'd had a really good feeling about this night and was definitely looking forward to some fun times.
Due to my slight illness and medication, I decided that I would drink less than I usually do. This worked for about 1.5 hours, when I decided that I was fine and could handle my normal amount of vodka and coke.
This may sound like a bad excuse, but I honestly believe that the medication I had been on, mixed with alcohol, really fucked with my head. It was like I was a completely different person. I did things that I would NEVER usually do, and I have no recollection of doing any of them.
Random, uncharacteristic things I did and then regretted include:
- Offering to give a female friend of mine her first orgasm
- Extremely offensive and unacceptable dirty dancing with unwilling participants
- Spending at least one hour chatting to the bday girl's extended family, revealing my emotional insecurities and family problems
- Telling my friend how attractive I think their older sibling is (now that's just uncomfortable for everyone involved)
- Taking my clothes off and using the self-timer in choreographed sexual positions with Selena and;
- Showing another friend how hard I can punch, using their thigh
All of these things are things that I would not usually do, no matter how off my tree I was. This is why, days later, the sick feeling in my stomach has not subsided when usually it lasts for 48 hours max.
I had told my parents that I would be home relatively early, seeing as the party finished at 12:30. The party did not finish until the early hours of the morning. Sondheim and I caught a taxi to his house, at which I drank some more and then eventually walked home. I called RSVP at 6am and definitely said really weird things that I doubt were based in truth but that I can't even remember, let alone recant.
When I eventually arrived home, I somehow was no longer wearing shoes. I genuinely have no idea how this happened. Instead I was wearing a pair of oversized, novelty Essendon Football Club slippers that Sondheim had given me. What a mess.
Sunday
Woke up at about 3pm. At this stage I hadn't been reminded of many of the details of my behaviour, so I wasn't too ashamed.
I did, however, re-read a message that I had sent to about 5 of my friends that night after leaving the party. It starts off relatively coherent but just goes downhill from there. I will fully transcribe this text message word for word, or letter for letter, as most of it does not consist of real words.
"So I may not be allowed home but where are you? If you're getting b-fast or you're lunch save is let m r rlee know nick know ee! I love you!!!! :._) xixx"
I wish I could provide an explanation of what I was trying to express.
That night I went to CookieDough's house with a couple of other friends to film his media project, which was already weeks overdue. It was a slow process but I didn't mind because it was actually really fun.
That night was reminded of many stupid things that I did on Saturday night. Actually, 'reminded' probably isn't the best word, seeing as I still don't actually remember any of them. Instead, I felt like these people were telling me stories about a completely different person. This person, I have decided, is not someone I would like to be friends with.
I will never drink alcohol while on medication again.
10.06.2009
Shopping Plazas and Spelling Revelations
MONDAY 28th SEPTEMBER
This was the week I found out that I had been spelling the word 'practice' incorrectly for most of my life. I always thought it was spelled 'practise' but apparently not.
This week was also the week good old Practice Exams started. Now, I am apparently a freak for feeling this way, but I really enjoy the whole exam process. I like the idea of testing your knowledge. I also like the idea of 100+ people being in one room in silence.
Practice exams are especially useful because they are where I found out most of the semester's curriculum.
I do not, however, enjoy going to Practice Exams on my holidays.
Today I had my English exam, which consisted mainly of me retracting long and overly-wordy sentences from my anus. I think it went quite well.
Went out for lunch with CookieDough and Betty's Driver after the exam. Spent the majority of the time screaming and laughing at CookieDough and his horrendous loss of virginity to someone literally twice his age.
Tuesday
Italian exam today. Arrived late, realised as I hurriedly sat down and caught my breath that i had FORGOTTEN TO BRING MY DICTIONARY. For anyone who has never done a foreign language before, a bilingual dictionary is an essential survival tool when you come across a word you don't know. Which, for me, usually happens at least 3 times per sentence.
Bluffed my way through the exam. I don't know my results yet but it is likely that I interpreted the completely wrong meanings of the articles. Good day!
That night, I had gone to bed at an acceptable hour but was woken to a phonecall at 4:00am from my ChineseWasherWoman. Expecting a phone call consisting of blaring music with a distant "LUKE!!!!! HELLO?!?!" I was surprised to hear no loud noises. I was also surprised and concerned to hear her sobbing and crying incomprehensibly. Asking her what was wrong, she replied "She's dead, Luke. She's dead." Obviously shitting my pants and thinking that someone close to both of us had died in some alcohol-related freak accident, I was stressing out. However, the 'she' referred to was actually her beautiful little dog, Tara. While Tara was not what I considered a close friend, I have never known a dog to be so constantly excited and happy as she, and it I was very sad for my friend! I would be forever traumatised if one of my dogs had died because I know how much they can mean to an owner. R.I.P Tara!! Xx
Wednesday
Today I had two exams - Media and then Music. Totally aced the Media exam without actually knowing any of the curriculum before Tuesday night. Music exam did not include any of the Aural component, so basically did not count.
Went through all my old things trying to find a box full of old tap shoes from my childhood, which brought back a lot of memories. Eventually I found the particular pair I was looking for, to lend to Buddy for an audition. Was offered money, DVD's and many other goods and services in return for the shoes, including illegal drugs. Unfortunately, the offer of weed was only a joke.
Thursday
Had my last Practice exam today, Psychology. Thankfully, my 12 minutes of studying paid off when I was generally familiar with the content of the exam. My 'study', which consisted of completing 15 multiple choice questions the morning of the exam, caused a momentary panic in which I realised that I was going to fail. When I looked at all of the answers, they were ALL wrong. Freaking out, I was confused when every basic principle of psychology that I had applied in giving my answers seemed to be contradicted in the 'correct' responses. I was extremely relieved, however, to realise that I was marking my answers to a different set of questions. VCE is really, really stressful.
After my exam, I had to catch the good old bus back to Greensborough and wait for another connecting bus home. While waiting at the bus stop of Greensborough Plaza (a truly lovely place, might I add), I was disgusted at the people that surrounded me. I, like most people, claim to be a generally non-judgmental person, however, it is impossible not to feel somewhat repulsed by the people who spend most of their time hanging out at shopping centres. Neither coming nor going somewhere else... their destination is the entrance to the plaza and there they will stay for hours on end.
There is one girl who I often see on my bus in the mornings, wearing her school uniform and catching a bus in the opposite direction of her school. I am not one to condemn wagging at all but this girl wags school in order to hang out at the local shopping centre in her caked-on makeup and skirt that looks like she's cut it in half. Many times she has caught my bus early in the morning and has STILL been there, smoking cigarettes and polluting the air outside Greensborough at the end of the day when I am on my way home.
I go to Greensborough Plaza all the time and am more than used to seeing the odd bum crack of a 17yo mother of two. Another favourite sight at Greensborough is the man who carries his pet rat around - on his shoulder. One jolly afternoon I had the pleasure of witnessing a gang of fun-loving youngsters smoking weed at a crowded bus stop. I have also sat next to a woman who was holding a huge tuft of hair which she bragged about ripping out of another woman's scalp. She tied it onto a nearby pole, just like a pretty ribbon.
As I said, it's a lovely place and I am more than accustomed to the type of people that frequent it. On this day, however, I was SHOCKED at the concentration of freaks that seemed to have tripled since I last went there. I thought that maybe it was a Carer-free day at the local mental health facility. Wanting to avoid the body odour and screaming bogans, I sat down at the part of the bus stop away from most other activity. Then, along came Little-Miss Bourbon and her anorexic velvet-tracksuit-wearing friend, who sat down right near me. Without my headphones and obviously being too close to other people to talk to myself as I so often do, I instead observed these two specimens, trying to figure them out. While drinking bourbon and coke (it was 4:00 in the afternoon), the overweight woman belched several times. She then got up to check the bus timetable, generously parading her oversized muffin tops (is there a term for muffin tops coming from over the armpits of a singlet top?) right near me, she then started shaking in a very odd way. Expecting some sort of seizure, I then noticed the headphones in her ears and realised that apparently, she was dancing.
Here are just a few reasons why she should not have been dancing: it was 4:00pm and broad daylight; she was rather overweight and severely under-dressed; her dancing looked more like a disabled person trying to escape from an invisible straight-jacket and oh, I almost forgot, SHE WAS AT A BUS STOP.
I must admit, though, I was highly entertained, even though I had to try and hide my smile/laughter as she probably would have punched me out if she had noticed.
Now seriously, people can do whatever they want. If people want to be bogans that's their choice, I don't have a problem with it. But they don't need to go throwing their lifestyle choices in my face!
Friday
Had approximately 3 hours sleep, despite the fact that I went to bed early. This was because I was woken up by another call from my ChineseWasherWoman, this time at the more reasonable hour of 1:00am. Concerned that this time a friend of ours had really died, I picked up in a hurry. Thankfully, there had been no tragic accident involving a beer-bong and a falling roof panel, resulting in massive trauma to the esophagus causing instant death, as I had originally feared. Instead, she was bored and wanted to come pick me up.
I have written about these events partly because they occurred, technically, in the wee hours of Friday morning and partly because I already wrote way too much in Thursday's entry. Sorry everyone!
Anyway, after waking up and getting dressed, I then snuck out of the house (which I hadn't done in a surprisingly long time) and met her halfway up the street, waiting for me at the wrong house. The first 5 minutes consisted of me laughing uncontrollably in a misplaced fear-response to the fact that this mental driver was legally allowed to control a vehicle on our roads. Fed up with the countless roundabouts in the northern suburbs, she literally DROVE OVER one of them in order to give her arms a rest from steering. We then both felt extremely anxious driving past a police car, despite the fact that no laws were being broken (except for her dangerous driving, perhaps, which was suddenly very slow and controlled). In pyjamas, it would not have been surprising if someone had reported two 12yo adopted siblings going for a joyride in their unsuspecting parents' stolen car.
When I got home around 3:00am, I simply could not get back to sleep. This normally would not have mattered much, except for the fact that I had a very big day coming up!
You see, Friday was also the day that I shot my Media photos. After doing the majority of my folio in a record 24 hours, I had yet to actually produce my final piece. The premise of my piece was "to create a series of images that challenge and question society’s tendency to make judgements about someone based on their appearance. In the individual shots, I will be using the same model in very different styles of clothing and appearance, highlighting how one can be seen very differently based on the way the choose to look."
I had booked the studio of my acting classes so that I could use their professional lights, etc. My friend and hair-product model of the year, Selena, was the subject for the photos. I had spent $50 at Savers (in the beautiful Greensborough, might I add) buying mostly hideous clothing to go with each image but thankfully she was able to bring many of the costumes from home. We met in the city early and headed in to the studio.
Turns out, the actual taking of the photos was not something to be dreaded. I actually had a really fun time, forcing Selena to dress up in hideous costumes and laughing a lot at the ill-fitting maternity-wear. Costume pieces included bright orange Sailor pants and velvet tracksuit pants (Greensborough plaza-style) as highlights. I was very very grateful to Selena for agreeing to do the photos and was really happy with how they turned out. Once they've been edited, etc., I may even put some on this blog.
After she left to go to work, I met up with my grandparents in the city to go and see the Salvador Dali exhibition. I know I must sound pretty cool to you right now, but I really enjoy spending time with them and had wanted to see the exhibition for ages. After lining up for literally an hour and complaining the whole time about my sore feet to my 70+ elderly grandparents, we finally got in. A lot of the art was seriously incredible and I especially liked the animated short film. As with most creative/artistic geniuses (geni...?), Dali was absolutely fucked in the head.
Saturday
Was very disappointed when nothing exciting to do came up for Friday or Saturday nights. In the end, however, Tevye came and picked me up and we went to Sondheim's parentless house. Unable to find the energy to explain why I was leaving the house at 10:30pm, I decided it would be much easier on everyone if I sneaked out. Unfortunately, had to resort to the old Slow-Motion Slide to get out unnoticed. The Slow-Motion Slide involves creeping at an extremely slow pace from one place to another in order to create minimal noise. I literally slid my feet down the hallway so slowly that you probably wouldn't even have known I was moving, if you had been there to watch.
Eventually I got out and we went to Sonheim's. Not having anything to do, I ended up drinking an oversized bottle of bourbon and coke. This is my death-drink and it makes me feel sick just smelling it, but I felt some craving for contamination and it was my only option. I was disgusted further, however, when I read on the label that it only consisted of 5% alcohol... definitely not enough for the pain and suffering I was going through in trying to finish that heinous drink. I would rather drink my own piss. If it had more than 5% alcohol concentration, that is.
I was disappointingly sober the entire night but this was probably a good thing seeing as I had absolutely no reason to be drinking.
Sunday
Got out of bed at around 1:30pm. For some reason I was in a really, really bad mood - the sort of mood where you scream at the t-shirt you left on the floor for "getting in the way".
Wanting to get out of the house where I am less likely to scream at inanimate objects, I mustered up the motivation to take one of my dogs for a walk. This was a bit of a risk considering my bad mood, seeing as she can be really annoying with her incessant energy. It was only supposed to be a short walk but I ended up going for more than an hour, exploring a new-found nature reserve with an actual river running through it, with rapids and everything. I was slightly calmed by the scenery, only to have another outburst whenever the dog's leash got entangled around a tree trunk, which was at least every 5 minutes.
Got home and was privileged to look forward to my return to that wonderous place of joy, love and fulfillment: Parade College!
This was the week I found out that I had been spelling the word 'practice' incorrectly for most of my life. I always thought it was spelled 'practise' but apparently not.
This week was also the week good old Practice Exams started. Now, I am apparently a freak for feeling this way, but I really enjoy the whole exam process. I like the idea of testing your knowledge. I also like the idea of 100+ people being in one room in silence.
Practice exams are especially useful because they are where I found out most of the semester's curriculum.
I do not, however, enjoy going to Practice Exams on my holidays.
Today I had my English exam, which consisted mainly of me retracting long and overly-wordy sentences from my anus. I think it went quite well.
Went out for lunch with CookieDough and Betty's Driver after the exam. Spent the majority of the time screaming and laughing at CookieDough and his horrendous loss of virginity to someone literally twice his age.
Tuesday
Italian exam today. Arrived late, realised as I hurriedly sat down and caught my breath that i had FORGOTTEN TO BRING MY DICTIONARY. For anyone who has never done a foreign language before, a bilingual dictionary is an essential survival tool when you come across a word you don't know. Which, for me, usually happens at least 3 times per sentence.
Bluffed my way through the exam. I don't know my results yet but it is likely that I interpreted the completely wrong meanings of the articles. Good day!
That night, I had gone to bed at an acceptable hour but was woken to a phonecall at 4:00am from my ChineseWasherWoman. Expecting a phone call consisting of blaring music with a distant "LUKE!!!!! HELLO?!?!" I was surprised to hear no loud noises. I was also surprised and concerned to hear her sobbing and crying incomprehensibly. Asking her what was wrong, she replied "She's dead, Luke. She's dead." Obviously shitting my pants and thinking that someone close to both of us had died in some alcohol-related freak accident, I was stressing out. However, the 'she' referred to was actually her beautiful little dog, Tara. While Tara was not what I considered a close friend, I have never known a dog to be so constantly excited and happy as she, and it I was very sad for my friend! I would be forever traumatised if one of my dogs had died because I know how much they can mean to an owner. R.I.P Tara!! Xx
Wednesday
Today I had two exams - Media and then Music. Totally aced the Media exam without actually knowing any of the curriculum before Tuesday night. Music exam did not include any of the Aural component, so basically did not count.
Went through all my old things trying to find a box full of old tap shoes from my childhood, which brought back a lot of memories. Eventually I found the particular pair I was looking for, to lend to Buddy for an audition. Was offered money, DVD's and many other goods and services in return for the shoes, including illegal drugs. Unfortunately, the offer of weed was only a joke.
Thursday
Had my last Practice exam today, Psychology. Thankfully, my 12 minutes of studying paid off when I was generally familiar with the content of the exam. My 'study', which consisted of completing 15 multiple choice questions the morning of the exam, caused a momentary panic in which I realised that I was going to fail. When I looked at all of the answers, they were ALL wrong. Freaking out, I was confused when every basic principle of psychology that I had applied in giving my answers seemed to be contradicted in the 'correct' responses. I was extremely relieved, however, to realise that I was marking my answers to a different set of questions. VCE is really, really stressful.
After my exam, I had to catch the good old bus back to Greensborough and wait for another connecting bus home. While waiting at the bus stop of Greensborough Plaza (a truly lovely place, might I add), I was disgusted at the people that surrounded me. I, like most people, claim to be a generally non-judgmental person, however, it is impossible not to feel somewhat repulsed by the people who spend most of their time hanging out at shopping centres. Neither coming nor going somewhere else... their destination is the entrance to the plaza and there they will stay for hours on end.
There is one girl who I often see on my bus in the mornings, wearing her school uniform and catching a bus in the opposite direction of her school. I am not one to condemn wagging at all but this girl wags school in order to hang out at the local shopping centre in her caked-on makeup and skirt that looks like she's cut it in half. Many times she has caught my bus early in the morning and has STILL been there, smoking cigarettes and polluting the air outside Greensborough at the end of the day when I am on my way home.
I go to Greensborough Plaza all the time and am more than used to seeing the odd bum crack of a 17yo mother of two. Another favourite sight at Greensborough is the man who carries his pet rat around - on his shoulder. One jolly afternoon I had the pleasure of witnessing a gang of fun-loving youngsters smoking weed at a crowded bus stop. I have also sat next to a woman who was holding a huge tuft of hair which she bragged about ripping out of another woman's scalp. She tied it onto a nearby pole, just like a pretty ribbon.
As I said, it's a lovely place and I am more than accustomed to the type of people that frequent it. On this day, however, I was SHOCKED at the concentration of freaks that seemed to have tripled since I last went there. I thought that maybe it was a Carer-free day at the local mental health facility. Wanting to avoid the body odour and screaming bogans, I sat down at the part of the bus stop away from most other activity. Then, along came Little-Miss Bourbon and her anorexic velvet-tracksuit-wearing friend, who sat down right near me. Without my headphones and obviously being too close to other people to talk to myself as I so often do, I instead observed these two specimens, trying to figure them out. While drinking bourbon and coke (it was 4:00 in the afternoon), the overweight woman belched several times. She then got up to check the bus timetable, generously parading her oversized muffin tops (is there a term for muffin tops coming from over the armpits of a singlet top?) right near me, she then started shaking in a very odd way. Expecting some sort of seizure, I then noticed the headphones in her ears and realised that apparently, she was dancing.
Here are just a few reasons why she should not have been dancing: it was 4:00pm and broad daylight; she was rather overweight and severely under-dressed; her dancing looked more like a disabled person trying to escape from an invisible straight-jacket and oh, I almost forgot, SHE WAS AT A BUS STOP.
I must admit, though, I was highly entertained, even though I had to try and hide my smile/laughter as she probably would have punched me out if she had noticed.
Now seriously, people can do whatever they want. If people want to be bogans that's their choice, I don't have a problem with it. But they don't need to go throwing their lifestyle choices in my face!
Friday
Had approximately 3 hours sleep, despite the fact that I went to bed early. This was because I was woken up by another call from my ChineseWasherWoman, this time at the more reasonable hour of 1:00am. Concerned that this time a friend of ours had really died, I picked up in a hurry. Thankfully, there had been no tragic accident involving a beer-bong and a falling roof panel, resulting in massive trauma to the esophagus causing instant death, as I had originally feared. Instead, she was bored and wanted to come pick me up.
I have written about these events partly because they occurred, technically, in the wee hours of Friday morning and partly because I already wrote way too much in Thursday's entry. Sorry everyone!
Anyway, after waking up and getting dressed, I then snuck out of the house (which I hadn't done in a surprisingly long time) and met her halfway up the street, waiting for me at the wrong house. The first 5 minutes consisted of me laughing uncontrollably in a misplaced fear-response to the fact that this mental driver was legally allowed to control a vehicle on our roads. Fed up with the countless roundabouts in the northern suburbs, she literally DROVE OVER one of them in order to give her arms a rest from steering. We then both felt extremely anxious driving past a police car, despite the fact that no laws were being broken (except for her dangerous driving, perhaps, which was suddenly very slow and controlled). In pyjamas, it would not have been surprising if someone had reported two 12yo adopted siblings going for a joyride in their unsuspecting parents' stolen car.
When I got home around 3:00am, I simply could not get back to sleep. This normally would not have mattered much, except for the fact that I had a very big day coming up!
You see, Friday was also the day that I shot my Media photos. After doing the majority of my folio in a record 24 hours, I had yet to actually produce my final piece. The premise of my piece was "to create a series of images that challenge and question society’s tendency to make judgements about someone based on their appearance. In the individual shots, I will be using the same model in very different styles of clothing and appearance, highlighting how one can be seen very differently based on the way the choose to look."
I had booked the studio of my acting classes so that I could use their professional lights, etc. My friend and hair-product model of the year, Selena, was the subject for the photos. I had spent $50 at Savers (in the beautiful Greensborough, might I add) buying mostly hideous clothing to go with each image but thankfully she was able to bring many of the costumes from home. We met in the city early and headed in to the studio.
Turns out, the actual taking of the photos was not something to be dreaded. I actually had a really fun time, forcing Selena to dress up in hideous costumes and laughing a lot at the ill-fitting maternity-wear. Costume pieces included bright orange Sailor pants and velvet tracksuit pants (Greensborough plaza-style) as highlights. I was very very grateful to Selena for agreeing to do the photos and was really happy with how they turned out. Once they've been edited, etc., I may even put some on this blog.
After she left to go to work, I met up with my grandparents in the city to go and see the Salvador Dali exhibition. I know I must sound pretty cool to you right now, but I really enjoy spending time with them and had wanted to see the exhibition for ages. After lining up for literally an hour and complaining the whole time about my sore feet to my 70+ elderly grandparents, we finally got in. A lot of the art was seriously incredible and I especially liked the animated short film. As with most creative/artistic geniuses (geni...?), Dali was absolutely fucked in the head.
Saturday
Was very disappointed when nothing exciting to do came up for Friday or Saturday nights. In the end, however, Tevye came and picked me up and we went to Sondheim's parentless house. Unable to find the energy to explain why I was leaving the house at 10:30pm, I decided it would be much easier on everyone if I sneaked out. Unfortunately, had to resort to the old Slow-Motion Slide to get out unnoticed. The Slow-Motion Slide involves creeping at an extremely slow pace from one place to another in order to create minimal noise. I literally slid my feet down the hallway so slowly that you probably wouldn't even have known I was moving, if you had been there to watch.
Eventually I got out and we went to Sonheim's. Not having anything to do, I ended up drinking an oversized bottle of bourbon and coke. This is my death-drink and it makes me feel sick just smelling it, but I felt some craving for contamination and it was my only option. I was disgusted further, however, when I read on the label that it only consisted of 5% alcohol... definitely not enough for the pain and suffering I was going through in trying to finish that heinous drink. I would rather drink my own piss. If it had more than 5% alcohol concentration, that is.
I was disappointingly sober the entire night but this was probably a good thing seeing as I had absolutely no reason to be drinking.
Sunday
Got out of bed at around 1:30pm. For some reason I was in a really, really bad mood - the sort of mood where you scream at the t-shirt you left on the floor for "getting in the way".
Wanting to get out of the house where I am less likely to scream at inanimate objects, I mustered up the motivation to take one of my dogs for a walk. This was a bit of a risk considering my bad mood, seeing as she can be really annoying with her incessant energy. It was only supposed to be a short walk but I ended up going for more than an hour, exploring a new-found nature reserve with an actual river running through it, with rapids and everything. I was slightly calmed by the scenery, only to have another outburst whenever the dog's leash got entangled around a tree trunk, which was at least every 5 minutes.
Got home and was privileged to look forward to my return to that wonderous place of joy, love and fulfillment: Parade College!
9.28.2009
Porn, Pedos and POO.
MONDAY
First day of the last week of term. After that, there are 2.5 weeks left of school for the rest of my life.
First day of the week and already the quote of the week emerged.
"Did that freak you out?"
- "Luke, you know me. It would take a four-legged ostrich on coke to freak me out".
The person in question has a more random life than me or anyone else I know. So random, in fact, that she also writes a blog. This blog was my inspiration to create this one. Check it out here: www.eventsoftheweekbyeden.blogspot.com
TUESDAY
Once again, I was astounded at the talent of my friends. Sondheim, one of my oldest and best friends, has written a show based on the story of 'The Little Match Girl'. I had heard some of the songs before, but was not prepared for the brilliance I would witness on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday when the cast got together for the first time for a workshop. I had been asked to be in the ensemble and even being just a small part of this amazing thing is an honour.
On Tuesday, renowned vocal coach and musical director Michael Lavine from Broadway, NYC literally came to Sondeim's HOUSE to help out and listen to his work. The significance of this is not something I can put into words. He usually costs $140/hour and he came to listen to The Little Match Girl for free. He loved it so much he stayed for several hours.
Meanwhile, one of the cast members, BatBoy, seems to have gone tone-deaf in the past few months. The renowned vocal coach from the US literally spent 30 minutes trying to get him to sing one line with the correct notes. He couldn't. It literally got to the stage where this guy was playing a note on the piano and said "Sing this" and he physically could not do it. No one knows why I literally cried with laughter and had to leave the room.
Ate PECAN PIE for the first time in my life and literally orgasmed over how amazing it was!
WEDNESDAY
Rehearsed some more for LMG and then performed it for a small audience of Sondheim's family and friends. The level of musical and creative talent that has gone into the show is astounding. I honestly believe that this could really go places and I am so excited by the whole thing.
Was also astounded at the talent of Hilary Swank. Chills the whole way through - AMAZING. No one could have done it better.
Went for coffee with an amazing friend who I hadn't spoken properly to in WAY too long!
Facebook Status of the week:
"Rachel has learnt to always check the label - BBQ sauce tastes nothing like chocolate topping on icecream, DAMNIT!"
THURSDAY
Walked around Savers in the lovely Greensborough for over an hour. I spent the entire time looking in the women's section. I do not intend to wear women's clothes but I needed all this shit for my Media project, which is coming along very slowly. Was devastated when the total cost of the clothes added up to $55.
I am determined to move out next year. Whenever I tell anyone this they always give me a look and say something like "Good luck" or "Are you sure?". Despite their reservations, I really think I will be able to make it work. I will literally live in a basement with furniture from Savers if i need to. They actually had some really cool stuff in there.
No, random woman - I would not like to be in your musical.
FRIDAY
Laughed a lot when a friend asked for the link to this blog.
"How do I find the link? I'm not familiar with pornless blogs."
Went to be in RSVP.com's media film. Despite my years of serious training, exhibited some of the worst acting OF ALL TIME.
Felt a little bit personally responsible but mostly shocked and amused when an innocent little friend went clubbing for the first time with the fake ID that I had organised for them... and ended up going home with and losing their virginity to a 33 YEAR OLD. Was absolutely speechless. My friends and I are all going downhill fast...
Was inspired and amazed once again by the lyrics of Paul Kelly. I don't particularly like the music, but to read them simply as poems, they are fucking awesome.
This one is honestly chilling but is my favourite at the same time:
THESE LIES (written with Deborah Byrne)
Grandpa was a loving man
He sat me on his knee
I remember how he'd brush his hair so tenderly
A fortunate and loving man
He whispered in my ear
This secret's just between us when no one else is near
These lies brighter than sunlight
Fairytales told in a dream
These old lies in a bedtime story
These lies have covered me
Summer's sweet and budding fruit
Lies withered on the vine
And winter's icy fingers have stolen what was mine
The stars are shining high above the snow upon the ground
Hold me close and let me know that new love comes around
These lies brighter than sunlight
Fairytales told in a dream
These old lies in a bedtime story
These lies have covered me
SATURDAY
Today was the day of the AFL Grand Final. Big day.
As the rest of Australia was watching the final minutes of the Grand Final, I was literally standing at a bus stop in the rain. WHY does my life seem to revolve around public transport?
Actually felt genuine sadness when the bus driver informed me that St. Kilda had lost the Grand Final. My dad and my brothers had gone to the game and would probably be in tears.
Caught the train in with Sondheim to a party all the way in fucking Hampton. Met up with Gaysian. Little did I know that the McDonalds that he was eating with me would be all over my body in a matter of hours.
Laughed so much at the clear juxtaposition of stereotypes: homeless man on a laptop with headgear.
Felt genuinely offended when a random man opened up a porn magazine ON THE TRAIN. Is this really necessary? Everyone was looking at him looking at soft/debatably not-so-soft porn. Another man near us declared to the whole carriage that he was "TANGING FOR A BEER!" to which the porno-guy literally got one out of his bag and gave it to him. It was lovely and generous of him but porn in public is still not okay.
The generous porno-man then left the magazine on the train, offering it to any other citizens who fancied a look. I said no thanks. It wasn't the good kind, anyway.
The second part of the night is almost inexplicable. Almost.
Arrived at the party, very happy to see some awesome friends. Walked into the kitchen and was confronted by two of my friends snorting MGMA on the kitchen bench, using their student metcards to line it up. There were less than ten people at the party. Once again, is this necessary
Was very happy to see Rio and my Chinese Washer Woman!
Went to pee in the bathroom
Felt that the party had hardly even started when we had the first vomiter. This is to be expected at a YABC party. This one, however, was shockingly early. The Gaysian's vomiting started at 11:00pm.
No one could figure out a way to get rid of the chunks of vomit still on the carpet after the initial sweeping away and I literally had to pick them up with my hands. Thankfully, I was drunk enough so that the full extent of how gross this is did not impact me at the time.
However, it did not stop at vomiting.
It probably wasn't really necessary, but at the time he needed to be upright so that his vomit did not go back down his throat. I literally jumped into the bed behind his back, straddled his torso and held him up as he munted.
I never thought that I would actually be able to say this, but I was actually shat on by another human being. Awesome.
It got to the point where we had to call an ambulance. I did the honours and it may sound fucked but I have always had a real fascination over what actually happens when you call 000. I am now pleased to say that I know what happens.
When they finally arrived, the cunt of a paramedic saw me holding him up in the bed and somehow associated all of the teenage irresponsibility that exists in the world with my little face. When he tried to blame me, I pointed out that i hardly even knew him but that I was lying in poo holding him up while we waited for him to arrive.
Decided that, despite how much of an asshole this one guy was, being a paramedic is actually a really important and admirable job. Go paramedics!
Was shocked after the ambulance left and I realised that it wasn't even midnight. What a joke!
I had some really violating/humiliating/revolting photos of the mess... Will obviously not upload them. I felt quite sorry for the Gaysian because we have all drunk way too much and done some really gross things when drunk before, he just came off worse than most other people do. I hope that perhaps in six months time he will look back and acknowledge the hilarity of the situation.
After helping to clean up the considerable mess, had a shower. Still felt dirty. Had a second one. Felt a bit better.
Walking out of my SECOND shower, was told "Woah, man - you fucking stink! You need to have a shower!" I HAD JUST HAD TWO. This hurt my feelings. Obviously, I had a third.
Still had a pretty fun night, despite all the shit that went down.
PS: I have recently been overwhelmed by the amount of people who have blogs. I thought I was a weirdo. Apparently, there are a lot of weirdos out there. For another blog of a friend who hosted this messy party, go to: www.pouncetiger.blogspot.com
SUNDAY
Woke up and spent about two hours making jokes and puns relating to poo. See above.
Eventually left in not one piece of clothing that i owned, except for my socks. Everything had been put in the washing machine and was totally wet. I had to borrow someone else's underwear, for god's sake.
Walked home with my Chinese Washer Woman and Sondheim and screamed with laughter the whole way home. Hilarious!! An hour later was EXTREMELY glad that I had decided against drinking the rest of my vodka on the train home.
Went to Grill'd. For some reason whenever I have been drunk the night before I have extreme cravings for red meat. This is most likely due to iron/protein deficiencies but it only happens when I'm hungover.
I came to the realisation that drinking more alcohol in the morning would have been a terrible idea when getting up from the table at Grill'd I fell over, almost onto the people next to us. Was evidently still drunk.
Finally got home and collapsed into bed. Woke up again that night and tried studying for the English practice exam which was the next day. Remind me again please: what is Kite Runner?
Needed to do a shit, but could hardly bring myself to do so after Saturday night's experience.
Overall it was not a bad week.
But hopefully next week won't be so shitty!
:D
First day of the last week of term. After that, there are 2.5 weeks left of school for the rest of my life.
First day of the week and already the quote of the week emerged.
"Did that freak you out?"
- "Luke, you know me. It would take a four-legged ostrich on coke to freak me out".
The person in question has a more random life than me or anyone else I know. So random, in fact, that she also writes a blog. This blog was my inspiration to create this one. Check it out here: www.eventsoftheweekbyeden.blogspot.com
TUESDAY
Once again, I was astounded at the talent of my friends. Sondheim, one of my oldest and best friends, has written a show based on the story of 'The Little Match Girl'. I had heard some of the songs before, but was not prepared for the brilliance I would witness on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday when the cast got together for the first time for a workshop. I had been asked to be in the ensemble and even being just a small part of this amazing thing is an honour.
On Tuesday, renowned vocal coach and musical director Michael Lavine from Broadway, NYC literally came to Sondeim's HOUSE to help out and listen to his work. The significance of this is not something I can put into words. He usually costs $140/hour and he came to listen to The Little Match Girl for free. He loved it so much he stayed for several hours.
Meanwhile, one of the cast members, BatBoy, seems to have gone tone-deaf in the past few months. The renowned vocal coach from the US literally spent 30 minutes trying to get him to sing one line with the correct notes. He couldn't. It literally got to the stage where this guy was playing a note on the piano and said "Sing this" and he physically could not do it. No one knows why I literally cried with laughter and had to leave the room.
Ate PECAN PIE for the first time in my life and literally orgasmed over how amazing it was!
WEDNESDAY
Rehearsed some more for LMG and then performed it for a small audience of Sondheim's family and friends. The level of musical and creative talent that has gone into the show is astounding. I honestly believe that this could really go places and I am so excited by the whole thing.
Was also astounded at the talent of Hilary Swank. Chills the whole way through - AMAZING. No one could have done it better.
Went for coffee with an amazing friend who I hadn't spoken properly to in WAY too long!
Facebook Status of the week:
"Rachel has learnt to always check the label - BBQ sauce tastes nothing like chocolate topping on icecream, DAMNIT!"
THURSDAY
Walked around Savers in the lovely Greensborough for over an hour. I spent the entire time looking in the women's section. I do not intend to wear women's clothes but I needed all this shit for my Media project, which is coming along very slowly. Was devastated when the total cost of the clothes added up to $55.
I am determined to move out next year. Whenever I tell anyone this they always give me a look and say something like "Good luck" or "Are you sure?". Despite their reservations, I really think I will be able to make it work. I will literally live in a basement with furniture from Savers if i need to. They actually had some really cool stuff in there.
No, random woman - I would not like to be in your musical.
FRIDAY
Laughed a lot when a friend asked for the link to this blog.
"How do I find the link? I'm not familiar with pornless blogs."
Went to be in RSVP.com's media film. Despite my years of serious training, exhibited some of the worst acting OF ALL TIME.
Felt a little bit personally responsible but mostly shocked and amused when an innocent little friend went clubbing for the first time with the fake ID that I had organised for them... and ended up going home with and losing their virginity to a 33 YEAR OLD. Was absolutely speechless. My friends and I are all going downhill fast...
Was inspired and amazed once again by the lyrics of Paul Kelly. I don't particularly like the music, but to read them simply as poems, they are fucking awesome.
This one is honestly chilling but is my favourite at the same time:
THESE LIES (written with Deborah Byrne)
Grandpa was a loving man
He sat me on his knee
I remember how he'd brush his hair so tenderly
A fortunate and loving man
He whispered in my ear
This secret's just between us when no one else is near
These lies brighter than sunlight
Fairytales told in a dream
These old lies in a bedtime story
These lies have covered me
Summer's sweet and budding fruit
Lies withered on the vine
And winter's icy fingers have stolen what was mine
The stars are shining high above the snow upon the ground
Hold me close and let me know that new love comes around
These lies brighter than sunlight
Fairytales told in a dream
These old lies in a bedtime story
These lies have covered me
SATURDAY
Today was the day of the AFL Grand Final. Big day.
As the rest of Australia was watching the final minutes of the Grand Final, I was literally standing at a bus stop in the rain. WHY does my life seem to revolve around public transport?
Actually felt genuine sadness when the bus driver informed me that St. Kilda had lost the Grand Final. My dad and my brothers had gone to the game and would probably be in tears.
Caught the train in with Sondheim to a party all the way in fucking Hampton. Met up with Gaysian. Little did I know that the McDonalds that he was eating with me would be all over my body in a matter of hours.
Laughed so much at the clear juxtaposition of stereotypes: homeless man on a laptop with headgear.
Felt genuinely offended when a random man opened up a porn magazine ON THE TRAIN. Is this really necessary? Everyone was looking at him looking at soft/debatably not-so-soft porn. Another man near us declared to the whole carriage that he was "TANGING FOR A BEER!" to which the porno-guy literally got one out of his bag and gave it to him. It was lovely and generous of him but porn in public is still not okay.
The generous porno-man then left the magazine on the train, offering it to any other citizens who fancied a look. I said no thanks. It wasn't the good kind, anyway.
The second part of the night is almost inexplicable. Almost.
Arrived at the party, very happy to see some awesome friends. Walked into the kitchen and was confronted by two of my friends snorting MGMA on the kitchen bench, using their student metcards to line it up. There were less than ten people at the party. Once again, is this necessary
Was very happy to see Rio and my Chinese Washer Woman!
Went to pee in the bathroom
Felt that the party had hardly even started when we had the first vomiter. This is to be expected at a YABC party. This one, however, was shockingly early. The Gaysian's vomiting started at 11:00pm.
No one could figure out a way to get rid of the chunks of vomit still on the carpet after the initial sweeping away and I literally had to pick them up with my hands. Thankfully, I was drunk enough so that the full extent of how gross this is did not impact me at the time.
However, it did not stop at vomiting.
It probably wasn't really necessary, but at the time he needed to be upright so that his vomit did not go back down his throat. I literally jumped into the bed behind his back, straddled his torso and held him up as he munted.
I never thought that I would actually be able to say this, but I was actually shat on by another human being. Awesome.
It got to the point where we had to call an ambulance. I did the honours and it may sound fucked but I have always had a real fascination over what actually happens when you call 000. I am now pleased to say that I know what happens.
When they finally arrived, the cunt of a paramedic saw me holding him up in the bed and somehow associated all of the teenage irresponsibility that exists in the world with my little face. When he tried to blame me, I pointed out that i hardly even knew him but that I was lying in poo holding him up while we waited for him to arrive.
Decided that, despite how much of an asshole this one guy was, being a paramedic is actually a really important and admirable job. Go paramedics!
Was shocked after the ambulance left and I realised that it wasn't even midnight. What a joke!
I had some really violating/humiliating/revolting photos of the mess... Will obviously not upload them. I felt quite sorry for the Gaysian because we have all drunk way too much and done some really gross things when drunk before, he just came off worse than most other people do. I hope that perhaps in six months time he will look back and acknowledge the hilarity of the situation.
After helping to clean up the considerable mess, had a shower. Still felt dirty. Had a second one. Felt a bit better.
Walking out of my SECOND shower, was told "Woah, man - you fucking stink! You need to have a shower!" I HAD JUST HAD TWO. This hurt my feelings. Obviously, I had a third.
Still had a pretty fun night, despite all the shit that went down.
PS: I have recently been overwhelmed by the amount of people who have blogs. I thought I was a weirdo. Apparently, there are a lot of weirdos out there. For another blog of a friend who hosted this messy party, go to: www.pouncetiger.blogspot.com
SUNDAY
Woke up and spent about two hours making jokes and puns relating to poo. See above.
Eventually left in not one piece of clothing that i owned, except for my socks. Everything had been put in the washing machine and was totally wet. I had to borrow someone else's underwear, for god's sake.
Walked home with my Chinese Washer Woman and Sondheim and screamed with laughter the whole way home. Hilarious!! An hour later was EXTREMELY glad that I had decided against drinking the rest of my vodka on the train home.
Went to Grill'd. For some reason whenever I have been drunk the night before I have extreme cravings for red meat. This is most likely due to iron/protein deficiencies but it only happens when I'm hungover.
I came to the realisation that drinking more alcohol in the morning would have been a terrible idea when getting up from the table at Grill'd I fell over, almost onto the people next to us. Was evidently still drunk.
Finally got home and collapsed into bed. Woke up again that night and tried studying for the English practice exam which was the next day. Remind me again please: what is Kite Runner?
Needed to do a shit, but could hardly bring myself to do so after Saturday night's experience.
Overall it was not a bad week.
But hopefully next week won't be so shitty!
:D
9.23.2009
My apologies to the four people who read this blog. I have recently not had any motivation to update it since the last week. Even though it has been such a long time, I will do my best to tell you the best/worst/most interesting bits...
MONDAY
Just another day! Except it was worse than any other day seeing as it was a Monday.
Decided this week that I wasn't going to spend any money on food/crap. I need to money for actual important things (such as going out/drinking/my phone bill) and I decided that I shouldn't keep spending all of it on McDonalds after school.
First day of my new budget went well. Was severely tempted to spend money after school on food with friends. Was very glad that I left all my money and my bank card at home before I left. This is the only way I can not spend my money.
When I am in possession of my bank card, regardless of how little money is actually in the bank, I feel that it is my ticket to freedom and I can do whatever I want with it, as if it has an endless supply of money. It does not. This fact has slapped me in the face on several occasions, every one of them at a McDonalds chainstore, when I order my usual of multiple cheeseburgers and my card is declined.
I just remembered the time when I got cash out at a McDonalds register. I had spare change with me but not quite enough for what I wanted. At the same time I had less than a dollar in my bank account so asked the poor teenage girl at the register this:
"Do you have a minimum amount for Cash-Out? No? Okay, awesome. Could I please have 70 cents please. Yep, 70 cents please. Thanks."
TUESDAY
Faced up to the fact that my Media Folio, which is supposed to include the past 6 months' work in it, was due this coming Friday. I had done less than a quarter of it.
Tuesday mainly consisted of me owning up to the fact that i NEEDED to do some of it soon.
The actual doing part didn't come until several days later.
I take things one day at a time.
WEDNESDAY
Today was supposedly the most difficult day of my VCE life. In the one day, I had three SACS. This is something I had only heard about in myths. Alas, it was happening to me and despite the stress and high blood pressure that would have accompanied this day for most people, I did not study.
Today was supposedly the most difficult day of my VCE life. In the one day, I had three SACS. This is something I had only heard about in myths. Alas, it was happening to me and despite the stress and high blood pressure that would have accompanied this day for most people, I did not study.
Had a major LOL at my friend, CookieDough. On his way to school to make it for our Media Outcome, the tram that he was on broke down. Tried to sound sympathetic on the phone as he explained that he would miss the first half of the assessment. I started the assessment with a smirk on my face. When he arrived I laughed out-loud at his red, puffed up face and his wind-swept hair. For some reason, when CookieDough is stressed out, he is the most hilarious person in the world.
During lunch laughed at CookieDough the whole time as I watched him have a break-down over VCE. All of the stress that everyone else had been experiencing all year had hit him in the span of three days. Hilarious.
This stress still hasn't hit me, and I'm dreading the day it does.
Had an English SAC. Totally bullshat my way through an imaginative story, trying to replicate one that I had written as practice. Totally fucked it up when i re-read it and realised that i had left out THE POINT OF THE STORY. Had to literally scribble in some of the most important parts in between lines and on the sides of pages.
Went to work and dreaded the fact that tomorrow was going to be the last day before my Media folio was due. That night my work consisted of writing a list of the things i had to do for the folio, as opposed to actually doing any of it.
Went to bed hating the fact that I needed to get up at 6:00am in order to go to the dreaded Rock Eisteddfod.
THURSDAY
Woke up and wanted to die right then and there, just so I could stay in bed.
Was awake way too early for something that was completely unnecessary. I was not actually a part of the Rock Eisteddfod - I think I would rather die. But seeing as one of my friends had literally created and choreographed it I thought it would be good to go alone for the day. That and also the fact that all my other friends were involved and I didn't want to be at school all on my lonesome.
So I went with absolutely nothing to do. I had no need to be there and was doing nothing important. Literally just sat around for 12 hours.
The best part of the day though was witnessing CookieDough literally experience death by folio. He had slept two hours the night before because he was up doing his folio and spent the entire day sitting in the corner, cutting and pasting. It was hilarious.
Watched Weeds for the first time. Loved it. Realised once again the negative influence television has over its audience when i literally was desperate for some marijuana just from the way it is represented in this show.
Had to listen as one of my male friends explained to me the reasons why our other male friend is one of the most amazing looking creatures on this planet. Listened as he discussed his perfect features and unsuccessfully hid an erection, all the while saying "but I'm straight!"
Was sitting with my friend watching Weeds on his laptop when an old man, about 70, walked past. He said to us, "Oh, got the good old porno up on the laptop, do we boys?", with a sly grin on his face.
"Um, no!" we both replied, slightly repulsed.
He then said "Ah well, let me know when you do!", winked, then walked away.
The thought of sitting watching porn with a friend makes me feel ill, let alone in a public place with hundreds of people around. To add an elderly man to this equation is HEINOUS.
Was also disgusted at the over-priced food at the canteen of Hisense Arena. It literally cost $8.75 for a small packet of maltesers. I literally cried out for humanity.
Discovered a large, concerning mass growing on the side of my neck. This could be troublesome.
Witnessed a secret game of Gay Chicken in the toilets. Yeah, that's a totally normal thing to do with your friends!
Watched the performance of the Rock Eisteddfod and was amazed. Possibly would go through the long and pointless day just to see it again.
FRIDAY
Tragically, I couldn't sleep in that morning as I had to get up early and start working on my folio before I went to school.
I really think that one folio in one day has got to be some kind of record.
Finally got to the printing stage. Some of my pages needed to be printed on colour paper, while others needed to be on white. Because I was short on time, I wanted to print them all out in one go so I counted all of the pages and ordered them according to what colour I wanted them. Unexpectedly, although ever so predictably, I had one measly page out of order, which meant all my photos were printed onto green paper. Awesome.
Eventually got to school with all my work printed out, only to be cut and pasted into the folder. Went to an assembly just so I could listen to a legend guest speaker.
Felt really sorry for myself having had little sleep and having done lots of work. That was until I saw CookieDough, who had not slept since TUESDAY NIGHT and had literally done over three times the amount of work as me.
Meanwhile, my media teacher told me that he had marked the assessments we did on Wednesday and he described mine as "one of the best papers I have ever read". I seriously doubted myself when I wrote that the Frankfurt school had invented the Agenda Setting Function Theory but apparently I was totes right?
Didn't attend a single class the whole day and instead spent the whole time in the library, cutting and pasting. I spent the whole time standing up over a table with all my work spread across it, slicing with a guillotine strips of cardboard and paper. I had been bending over the table for so long that after a while my nose started dripping onto my work. It may have been spinal fluid. My back was also aching from leaning over for hours on end and I decided that I needed one of those harnesses that sheep shearers have to hold them up.
Didn't attend a single class the whole day and instead spent the whole time in the library, cutting and pasting. I spent the whole time standing up over a table with all my work spread across it, slicing with a guillotine strips of cardboard and paper. I had been bending over the table for so long that after a while my nose started dripping onto my work. It may have been spinal fluid. My back was also aching from leaning over for hours on end and I decided that I needed one of those harnesses that sheep shearers have to hold them up.
EVENTUALLY, completed my folio!!!! Literally took me until 4:00pm, but I knew my teacher was still at school.
Amongst all of this I had literally forgotten that it was the last day of school. When I knocked on the staffroom door to hand my folio to my teacher, the noise was so loud I couldn't believe it. Thousands of teachers were clearly partying it up in the staffroom for the end-of-term celebrations. When my teacher opened the door, the smell of beer and wine wafted into my face, as i got a sneak peek into the seedy world of teachers behind closed doors. Was offered to come in and say hello (as a joke, i think), and told him that I would probably rather die.
Was suddenly so pleased that I had finished it and that it was the last day of term!! Went to get food with CookieDough and the RSVP-regular to celebrate the end of term.
I was pleased with myself that I hadn't spent any of my money all week and so thought it would be okay to celebrate ;)
Suddenly realised, on the way to eat, that I had not eaten FOR OVER 24 HOURS!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I ate chocolate at the Rock Eisteddfod and then had been so busy doing my folio that I literally skipped about 7 meals.
The wait for my burger to cook was especially long but when it arrived, my god, it was the equivalent of about 4 full-body orgasms, all concentrated in my mouth.
SATURDAY
Was finally able to sleep in properly. Was very much looking forward to one of my oldest friends 18th birthdays. She lives just around the corner from my house and I had lots of vodka left over from my last party, so i was very excited. Being able to walk home at whatever time I want in whatever state I want is pretty damn good.
However, I had not gotten her a present! Went to the good old G-borough with Mother Dearest. Looked in every feminine-looking shop I could find but still could see nothing that I wanted to get her. Eventually got her a voucher for a manicure in which they also shave and file your lower arms or something. The prices some people pay for strangers to buff their dead and hardened skin just baffles me sometimes.
On a spur-of-the-moment decision, organised to go and see Once We Lived Here again, this time with another friend of mine who I knew would like it. Had a lovely time with her getting lunch before the show and seeing it all over again. Amazing!
On the way home in her car, we saw a little dog running through heavy traffic in the rain. Worried and wanting to be good citizens, we stopped the car and tried to rescue it. Upon getting out of the car, I ran towards it, screaming and waving my arms in the air, trying to get its attention. I got its attention, alright. When it saw me it clearly crapped its pants and bolted in the opposite direction. Woops.
Went to the party! Had a fun time catching up with friends and drinking and dancing. Totally spent about 45 minutes sitting in the lounge room with her extended family, namely Peter, her elderly grandfather, chatting and laughing and just being the lift of the party. Literally organised for a Schoolies trip with Grandpa Peter to Creswick, where we can go fishing and even see the windfarms. Eventually told them all that I should probably go and spend time with the B'day girl, rather than with her extended family.
Was very disappointed in Slippers when she spent a good 30 minutes with her face in the toilet bowl. Now I'm not one to judge the vomiter, seeing as this is a famous trait of mine, however 11:30 is way to early to be munting! Poor form.
Poor form was also exhibited by two of my other friends, who wanted to go home at 1:30. I had promised them that I would walk them home, so I had to go halfway around the suburb and then come back to the party, as I was in no mind to go home. I was only just getting started. Had an amazing packet of burger rings on the way home.
Spoke to a friend on the phone. My theory was reaffirmed that people SHOULD NOT MEET OTHER PEOPLE ON THE INTERNET.
On my way back to the partay, I found a balloon with "It's A Girl!" on it. Seeing as my friend is female, I thought it would be totally fitting to bring it back as a secondary gift. Had a bit more fun when I arrived back to the party, but things were dying down. Why do people have such pathetic endurance? When I plan to have a big night, that means I won't sleeping until way after sunrise. Unfortunately, no one else shared this mantra.
At some stage, the B'day girl and Slippers went to bed for the night and I was suddenly left with no one to have fun with.
At some stage, the B'day girl and Slippers went to bed for the night and I was suddenly left with no one to have fun with.
I was so bored and still really drunk and not even tired.
What I did to alleviate my boredom, however, was a wonderously BAD decision. The ensuing circumstance and experience is so horrendous that I cannot and will not ever write it in a public domain such as this blog.
I have never stooped so low. I would rather shit out my insides into my own mouth than go through what I experienced again. DEATH!!!
SUNDAY
Literally arrived home from the party at 5:45am, when the sun had well and truly risen. Went to bed without a shower and I'm pretty sure my body shut down for the next 12 hours.
Woke up at 4:00pm. Didn't get out of bed until after 6:00. Instead I spent those two hours on the phone to a few friends SCREAMING about the previous night's events.
I had a 3 hour-long shower. Didn't feel much cleaner.
Thankfully, my recovery rate for traumatic experiences is between 30 seconds and 5 minutes, after which I am able to laugh about whatever has happened. If I did not have this characteristic, I probably would not be able to survive. It does not necessarily mean I am not bothered/traumatised by situations but it simply means I am able to see the humour and use this humour in my misfortunes to make other people laugh. Come to think of it, this is mostly what this blog is about!
However, I STILL HAVE NOT FULLY RECOVERED FROM MY HORRENDOUS MISTAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!
Let's hope I don't make any life-changing mistakes next week.
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