You know you’re going to have a good day when you have icecream for breakfast. Boo ya! To celebrate the end of the first year of uni (well, apart from exams…), Jackie and I went to Brunetti’s for gelato. The poor girl had never been to Brunetti’s before, which probably explains why she didn’t know how to eat the icecream to make sure it didn’t drip everywhere.
Last class of the year of my music tute, which was even better than usual, because it involved a game of Celebrity Heads and Kit Kats (win). Some people were infuriatingly good/lucky at it (“Am I a solo artist? Am I male? Do I play guitar? Harmonica? Am I Bob Dylan?”), but it took me a while to figure out I was “Soul Music” (the genre). Oh well, I got my Kit Kat in the end… We also had a heated discussion on the ethics of world music. Seriously? Lighten up. I don’ t think anybody believes that Desert Rose by Sting is meant to be a representation of Algerian music (or anything apart from a Jaguar ad, for that matter).
We decided to go out for drinks to celebrate the end of the year (pretending for a time that we don’t have exams coming up), and a curious incident occurred on the tram. An angry angry hobo (carrying plastic bags full of celery and Roma tomatoes) began abusing Alice. I took a photo (obviously), and the shutter sound caused him to whip around and yell directly into my face for about five minutes. After that, he got a little tired of that and went back to Alice, threatening to kick her in the head and lunging at her throat. He didn’t say a word to Steve… how rude!
So we were pretty glad to be off that tram. Interesting story though. Made all our days (does that sentence make sense?). We went to Rooftop Bar on the top of Curtin House, and after I thoroughly embarrassed myself by taking several minutes to figure out how to open up the deck chairs, we kicked back and like, full chilled and stuff (pictured). Afterwards, I discovered a really really amazingly cool bookshop. ARGH I HAVE TO GO THERE AGAIN! It had all the Postsecret books and a diary filled with Russian pictures and… *hyperventilates*
Ooh! And I got a call back about the Yamaha job, meaning that I’ve got an audition in two weeks (in which I have to play music, sing and transpose Waltzing Matilda) and that tomorrow I’m off to Carnegie to watch three year olds learn to clap rhythms and stuff (class observation). I don’t really know how to end this… it’s too humid to think/write. Gah.