If there is one thing I can help myself by remembering this year and the next it is not to care of what other people think. Since I will never be able to live up to their expectations or life plans, I therefore should only live for my own dictated by the Will of God. Nothing else should matter.
Now I’m normally the laziest ass in the world period. Especially when it comes to uploading pics - I can takes 50 million shots and the pictures will remain in my camera until I can no longer take a picture. So when it comes to uploading some of them on my blog you can imagine the procastination that occurs. Therefore while the kettle boils the water for my afternoon tea I’ll quickly show you what I’ve been up to while inspiration strikes.
First off – My Chemical Romance at the Entertainment Centre. Of course no cameras were allowed so I took the most minimum of pics when my cameraphone accidentally snapped open.
I realise you can’t actually see them but the pyrotechnics was reallllly bright the minute I decided to take this photo – but at least you can see the really eager mosh pit 
MCR rocked it out by the way.
The Boho Bar
Hans from Nova who quite happily posed for us and told us to “put it on Facebook”. Which we did 
He also serenaded Shing very especially. Note the uncomfortable smile.
They had some radical dip too.
So yeah Boho was awesome – great music, good food, nice waiters, awesome theme Do check it out.
Next on the menu was the Barossa Valley, which is winemaker territory – what South Australia is infamous for. Mind you most of these pics were taken while zooming down the highway in a moving car so if they’re a bit blurry you’ll know why 
This is the Dam where the Whispering Wall is situated – someone stands at one end of the dam (not seen) and someone else stands at the other end (see below) and the two can communicate to each other as though via speakerphone with no delays or echoes! It was amazing and I felt like a kid again discovering the wonderment of the speaking via two cans attached by a string.
Me again, waiting for my friend Ness to speak to me via the hole at the other end of the dam.
And it’s always a plus to spot a wild kangaroo…
…or three. The big momma one on the left watched us to make sure we rolled up our windows and left without coming near her little joeys. Trust me you don’t mess with wild roos. The Mafia ain’t got squat on them.
The parting shot of Jacob’s Creek in Ness’ rear view mirror.
Okay so after tasting so much wine it was coming out my nose, I bought two port wines for dad and headed home. The whole wine tasting and testing is such a cultured experience it makes most of my other days seem so…crass. It’s also a bit like being treated like royalty – everyone quite happily serves you little portions of whatever wine you choose as you work your way down the wine list from whites to reds to ports that you feel quite high once you’ve gone to about 4 cellars – either from the wine or the treatment, I am not quite sure.
Later we went back and OD’ed on Indian food.
Dynamite Sunday. Once I get photos from our wonderful but unsucessful crabbing pics, those will be up too Til then..
Take care my boobies, I mean babies.
What do you say to someone who calls you a Medusa Oblongata?
Haha.
So I bought my graduation dress today.
The dress is black, makes me look my age and I don’t look too hideous which is a bonus. And it was on sale.
Baaaaaaaaargain!
We went crabbing on Saturday, very excitedly mind you. We carried nets and fishing rods and I supplied the chicken carcasses which is what crabs apparently love. There were these two Asian guys there who had set up like 8 nets when the maximum was 2 nets per person. So subsequently they caught like around 5,000 crabs and cleaned out the ocean while us amateurs caught a grand total of one crab.
Not so bad except the regulations state that you’re only allowed to keep crabs that are over 11 centimetres. Our one saving grace, was 10.5 cm. (To which one of Asian fisherman SMIRKED and said, it’s too small – I swear if I had been taller and better built Smirky Smirkerson would have been eating dirt for breakfast. And I would have stolen his crabs).
Anyhoo, turns out I’m not a very moral person and would have kept the crab on the argument that it would have grown to 11cm within a few days anyway. But I happened to go with a very morally responsible group of people, so we let the Lucky Bugger go.
Since we had resolved to eat seafood by hook or by crook that Saturday, we drove 15 kilometres to a seafood factory off the Semaphore Esplanade only to find out that they weren’t selling crabs because it wasn’t crab season. (Yes, because certain South East Asian fishermen had evidently cleaned us out.)
Refusing to be beaten, we bought squid, shrimp and a barramundi, trooped to Nish’s place and had the best fucking seafood dinner in months.
Oh and I also got sunburnt in the only two areas where I forgot to apply suntan lotion – in the areas between the straps of my top and my t-shirt.
Grads are next week! And I have not packed a single thing.
Eeeek!
What Fifi did today:
- woke up too early
- was assisted by very cute new French guy in student centre (buzz cut – very WWM)
- paid off the rentals for her graduation attire
- mailed academic transcripts to potential honours supervisors
- ordered an “eggless” lunch (due to allergies)
- reordered an “eggless” lunch when meal arrived “eggy” anyway
- considered throwing a tantrum due to potential health hazards but meekly decided not to
- came home in time to drop off bags before heading back into the city
- halfway to the bus stop, shot off back to retrieve umbrella amidst fat droplets of rain
- played Blackjack, Bluff and Texas Hold ‘Em Poker with some of the girls
- now owe some of them something like 21 million dollars
- realised one eyebrow does not match the other
- sat in front of the mirror with a tweezer for twenty minutes and have still not located problem
- decided to bore the rest of you with the details of her day.
The End.
The day before I was due to go see My Chemical Romance in concert, I could not find my tickets. Thank god I found them eventually because they were abso-fucking-lutely amazing. Anisha and I were the only Indians the place (as far as we could tell anyway) and luckily we didn’t buy mosh pit tickets because with the amount of people in the place, the results would not have been so pretty. When we walked in, there were so many people dressed in black that it was (though expected) a bit unnerving. It was amazing though. Every single minute of it was golden.
And this was even though I have only ever heard five of their songs from their new album. You can always tell the difference between performers and entertainers.
MCR was both.
I turned 22 a few days ago. It wasn’t so different from turning 21 but I can tell you that this has been one of the most interesting years of my young adult life. I will not bore you with a long list of examples or try to equate each with some deep abstract allegory or metaphor; firstly because I am not in the mood to do so and secondly because I think that it is not unnecesary – for this post anyway.
Suffice to say that it has been an eye-opening year in more ways than just one.
This was the first birthday of 22 birthdays in which I have been away from home, and being a girl born with a deeply resonating homing device, if you had told me even three years ago that this would be the case, I would have laughed in your face and then anxiously worried about it for the next three years.
However, grace being as it is, that little revelation was only revealed in due course, and props must be given to all my loved ones both here and from back home that made me feel so loved on my birthday, that though I did feel the faintly bitter sting of the absence of home, all of the messages and phone calls and presents and dinners and drinks helped cushion the blow.
And not just any cushion mind you - it’s like the GOSA GLÄNSA pillows from Ikea – extremely fluffy with 60% white goose down and 40% white goose feathers surrounded by 90% white goose down for a comfy surface and a wonderful outer surface of silk and cotton fabric… yeah.. this ain’t your ordinary metaphore, I’m giving you a promophore (a promotion and a metaphore). That’s how effective everyone was
Anyhoo, after some awesome Peking Duck with the Namegang chicks on Friday, the housemates and I paid a visit to the Boho bar on Saturday night, which is fabulous by the way. It has a carnival theme, and awesome decor, funky retro music, great chips and better dip, yummy waiters and bartenders who walk around in suspender belts, singlets and hats - it is not your average smoky bar filled with indecent leering men who spill beer on your hair and leave you wondering how much more insult you can take for being vertically challenged.
The night ended with a trip to PJ O’Brien’s where, get this, I have gotten in before without needing an ID, but the night after I turned 22, I needed to flash the bouncer with my international student card!! How’s that for a compliment (and yes everybody I am taking it as one).
Anyway it was an awesome birthday and I got a little carried away with my shopping the other day and ended up buying a few funky print t-shirts one of which said: Dear Santa, define good.
Plus we’re going crabbing this weekend and then to the Barossa Valley on Sunday, hopefully we can meet up a few more times (poker night!!) before everyone leaves or gets busier towards the end of the year … and then I can look forward to seeing my rents and brother again, after almost a year!
I have to pack up my entire room, find buyers for my old text books and find a way to dispose of/give away/recycle all the shit I have accumulated over the three years I’ve been here. A herculean effort one of which I am not at all sure is humanly possible at the moment.
Then it’s graduation and I fly home for Christmas.
Shithouse - I am 22 and I have to grow up soon.
When am I going to find the time – or energy- to do that?
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