Another milestone. 200 days down. 165 to go. Over halfway through the blog. And just like Day 100, I seem to have a picture of avian life. In this case, a photo of a tree on my street with some magpies in it. Accompanied, of course, by some delightfully ominous clouds.
Firstly came a public transport ordeal. I had the pleasure of taking the morning peak train for the first time in a while, which was delightfully delayed on its journey to the city due to some bank-up at Flinders Street. This involved loud, raspy and frequent announcements over the PA explaining exactly why we had been in the West Richmond-Jolimont tunnel for the past 15 minutes. On leaving the tunnel, we were deposited at Platform 14 (which, for those of you who don’t know, is a very dark and narrow platform at Flinders Street that takes about 10 minutes to get out of during peak hour) and had to wait a while for a tram, which only took us as far as La Trobe Street. At this point, we (being Yours Truly, James and Meg) gave up on public transport and walked the remainder of the distance, arriving at class some 25-30 minutes late.
The class in question was Russian, since I had to change my 11am tute to a 9am due to a clash. I’m in that one with Meg, who is annoyed that I can speak some Russian and branded me a cheater (but since realised that I could give her answers and seems happier about the whole deal). We learned about the gender of words and how to ask for somebody’s passport. All gripping stuff. The next lecture was just as gripping, being presented by three guest academics; one of whom was a very enthused feminist who delighted in telling us about shoe fetishists who enjoy ejaculating into high heels (and how this somehow meant that all men were evil). The regular lecturer then had a conversation with the guests, turning his back to us and at one point exclaimed that he’d been so engrossed in his own conversation with them that he forgot about us. Did I mention he has a very thick German accent?
After that finished, I discussed the merits of Tony Abbott’s paid maternity leave proposal with James for a while before hiding from the elements in a cafe with Jackie (am I allowed that many conjunctions in a sentence?). I can’t remember what we discussed, but I had a muffin, and that’s all that matters. The muffin was followed by hot dogs as we went to the Student Union barbecue (but quickly bailed because the band was quite loud and not that great).
After my Research Methods tute (in which the reality of dogs was debated for some reason), I went to Psych to learn more about epilepsy and then went home, somehow (but fortuitously!) managing to get a seat on the train and managing to get some reading done (on the changes in the nature and scope of the Australian public service in the past 30 years). Lovely. I’m sure other things happened today, but I cannot be bothered recalling them now. Except that I saw Josiah at some point. Wouldn’t want him to feel left out. And Mardi, while I’m at it. I think it was Mardi. Goddamn twins…