Last Friday. I go to uni to organise various odds and ends. I can’t remember anything getting done. On my way home, Mark messages to ask whether I want to join a roadtrip to Greensborough for Savers. That’s a no-brainer. I end up with a very warm, very big, woollen jumper – an impulse buy, but the excuse is “planning for winter”. As it turns out, I’m planning for that evening. While we (Mark, Dan, Addi and I) are watching a WikiLeaks-themed talk at Fed Square, it starts bucketing down. I’d say “literally”, except I don’t think buckets that big exist. I change into my Savers jumper before we drive through Hoddle St River to Victoria St, where we have Vietnamese for dinner. Vegetables and rice, I mean, not people. Yum. At about ten I go to FAD Gallery (nice place), where the after-party for the National Editors Workshop and Skill-share conference is taking place. Rachel is there (her and Ellie organised the conference, and did an excellent job), and we talk about this and that and Bob Ellis, who I had heard speak slash read from his autobiography the night before, at the conference itself. Bob Ellis is an interesting character, who seems to enjoy insulting people. Marieke Hardy likes him a lot. Saturday. Starts with my journey home from the after-party. Uneventful. I then sleep, and wake. Pack my bags, and go to Glenrowan. Via Dear Patti Smith, where Sallie is hanging out, as one of the currently exhibiting artists. She shows me around, and tells me about the piñata party they had had on opening night. Some shreds of old piñatas are still hanging out there too, on the balcony, all limp tissue paper and piles of glitter. One work of art consists of four sheets of different coloured polyester mesh, hung like the walls of a house. Rectangular holes are cut in various spots in the mesh, and the result is an optical illusion of coloured filters. What you see is not what you get. I also visit Sammi and Rachel and their visitor Miriam on Saturday. On the train I eavesdrop on some Danish Australians who have been to Tokyo, and are therefore underwhelmed by the standard of Australian trains. Sunday. Monday. Glenrowan. There is no internet, almost, so I do nothing, almost. Continue a letter I’ve been writing since early last month. Play the clarinet, for the first time since 2007. Watch South Park with Andreas. Tuesday. Return to Melbourne. Laze around the house with Lisa. Meet Mark, Al, and Michael at a High St bar called Bender. They have karaoke every Tuesday. Mark and I make a deal: he’ll do a (lovely) version of Under the Bridge, I’ll sing (read, slaughter) Incomplete by the Backstreet Boys. Embarrassment survived (what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger), we leave and wander aimlessly down the street, complaining about the uncharacteristic chill. Wednesday. Slow day. Catch the bus to Lygon St, from where Sammi and Gemma and I drive to No Lights No Lycra. Helen meets us there, and we dance in a semi-dark church hall for ninety minutes with around thirty strangers. No one speaks, except to say “This is the last track”. That makes two art-forms I’ve desecrated in as many days. Thursday. Wake up. Have plans. Quickly discover that I’d overestimated the time they would take. Go to uni. Help Meredith’s two new Honours students with N-watch, and compiling the stimulus words for their psycholinguistic projects. Feel a little odd saying “Here you go, read my thesis – that should explain a few things.” Hope that statement doesn’t turn out to be a lie. After lunch I go to Goodtimes Studios, to check whether it might be a suitable venue for the launch of Right Now‘s new webpage. It’s a cool basement space, but unfortunately has no wheelchair access. My legs have been hurting since Monday (though it’s not me who needs a wheelchair), so I go to the doctor. She thinks I might have some sort of mineral or vitamin deficiency, and takes bloodtests. I go have coffee with Simon. We talk about how to do a PhD on war. It could be difficult. Simon recommends a TED talk about China. The Potter people give us free pastries. Yum. When the Potter closes, I go to Borders. I find a book I want, but buy it on my Kindle for less than half the price. At six I meet Mark and Addi at the Trades Hall, for a socialist walking tour of Melbourne, organised by Socialist Alternative. Members approach me in a manner very similar to Mormons: they ask about my beliefs as a cue to tell me about theirs/why I should believe theirs. By the time Dan joins us, I am sick of being told that capitalism is the root of all evil and that the solution is revolution. I prefer the Mormons. We’ve gained some historical information about Melbourne though, which has been interesting. Noodles for dinner, then Robocop at Rooftop Cinema. I’ve never been there before – it’s awesome. There’s thunder and lightening and a little bit of rain. We sit under an umbrella and drink beer and eat icecream. I get home at about half past midnight, and go to bed. Friday. I sleep badly, and wake with sore legs, a fever, and a strange rash. I cancel my dinner plans. The doctor is confused. Lisa and Andreas look after me, and I sleep most of the weekend.
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Despite this being quite enough to keep me from blogging (mostly), I haven’t actually felt all that busy. And although it’s been lots of fun, I’m looking forward to getting back to the routines of classes at uni and regular meals. Must be getting old…
