Volcanoes melt you down.
So the dad is over for a visit, and the past few days or so have allowed me a glimpse into weekend life back in flogging-land these hols. By 10 (11 if I'm lucky) the tv will be on, albeit at a lower volume than usual, and by 11 I am subtly reminded that the remainder of the day is slowly ticking away. We did the rounds at Queen Vic today, and I got an uber cool Che tee (fear my bargaining skills!) that is only slightly too long.
Nixon the other day was awesome, and as psycho as it sounds, I had to seriously fight from tearing at the end. Yes, I'm a wuss, but eh. It was a sad, disturbing flick. 2046 was thought-provoking, and despite it being a little too complicated for split-second understanding and Maggie Cheung's approximately 2-second cameo, the cinematography was seriously admirable. I read it somewhere, and it's true. Wong Kar Wai is the Godard of Asia.
I think I am addicted to Kinder Schoko-bons. In the past hour alone I have devoured 10 of the crazy-addictive mini eggs, and as I type the remainder in the packet continues to haunt me over the top of my lappy.
***
These few days have led me to discover where I get that manic feeling in my stomach when there's something to be done but it's not being done and I want it done now now now from. This morning the dad sent Edward in for servicing at 8, and the mechanic said he would call between 12 and 1 when it was ready. At 12.15pm dad lamented that the guy (Jim) hadn't yet called. At 12.30pm he announced that he was going down to pick Edward up (when there'd still been no call). At 12.45pm, he called the service station to enquire if they were done. It is 12.53pm now, and if Jim doesn't call in 7 minutes I fear I, too, will go berserk when the dad does.
Note that "Australian efficiency" is, in and of itself, an oxymoron, and to rail against it is a futile endeavor, so you might as well learn to live with it. Which brings me to my realisation about my host country in general. I'll admit that it is indeed a nice place, and I wouldn't change a thing about the path that led me here, but that's where the buck stops. It's been a blast, but I've discovered in my time here that I hate the Ozzie culture. The laidback approach to everything (work, school, service, booze), the shoddiness of public transport, the utter disregard that the locals have for order and procedure, the lazy drawl and perplexing, trivial things that excite...
I lament flogging-land's rat race culture to anyone who will listen, but in contrast there is nothing, nothing that the people here strive for (okay, maybe footie). There is no drive, no push-factor whatsoever, and for that I find myself unable to respect this as a whole. Not everyone conforms to such a generalization, of course, and I feel almost ungrateful to be saying this, but make no mistake about it. I love my time here, and it will undoubtedly be one of my most cherished experiences thus far. I will miss Melbourne. But as much as it will sadden me to leave at the end of the year, I know in my heart that I cannot call her home.
***
Give me an hour and I'll give you your dream.
"Shh" - Frou Frou
So the dad is over for a visit, and the past few days or so have allowed me a glimpse into weekend life back in flogging-land these hols. By 10 (11 if I'm lucky) the tv will be on, albeit at a lower volume than usual, and by 11 I am subtly reminded that the remainder of the day is slowly ticking away. We did the rounds at Queen Vic today, and I got an uber cool Che tee (fear my bargaining skills!) that is only slightly too long.
Nixon the other day was awesome, and as psycho as it sounds, I had to seriously fight from tearing at the end. Yes, I'm a wuss, but eh. It was a sad, disturbing flick. 2046 was thought-provoking, and despite it being a little too complicated for split-second understanding and Maggie Cheung's approximately 2-second cameo, the cinematography was seriously admirable. I read it somewhere, and it's true. Wong Kar Wai is the Godard of Asia.
I think I am addicted to Kinder Schoko-bons. In the past hour alone I have devoured 10 of the crazy-addictive mini eggs, and as I type the remainder in the packet continues to haunt me over the top of my lappy.
***
These few days have led me to discover where I get that manic feeling in my stomach when there's something to be done but it's not being done and I want it done now now now from. This morning the dad sent Edward in for servicing at 8, and the mechanic said he would call between 12 and 1 when it was ready. At 12.15pm dad lamented that the guy (Jim) hadn't yet called. At 12.30pm he announced that he was going down to pick Edward up (when there'd still been no call). At 12.45pm, he called the service station to enquire if they were done. It is 12.53pm now, and if Jim doesn't call in 7 minutes I fear I, too, will go berserk when the dad does.
Note that "Australian efficiency" is, in and of itself, an oxymoron, and to rail against it is a futile endeavor, so you might as well learn to live with it. Which brings me to my realisation about my host country in general. I'll admit that it is indeed a nice place, and I wouldn't change a thing about the path that led me here, but that's where the buck stops. It's been a blast, but I've discovered in my time here that I hate the Ozzie culture. The laidback approach to everything (work, school, service, booze), the shoddiness of public transport, the utter disregard that the locals have for order and procedure, the lazy drawl and perplexing, trivial things that excite...
I lament flogging-land's rat race culture to anyone who will listen, but in contrast there is nothing, nothing that the people here strive for (okay, maybe footie). There is no drive, no push-factor whatsoever, and for that I find myself unable to respect this as a whole. Not everyone conforms to such a generalization, of course, and I feel almost ungrateful to be saying this, but make no mistake about it. I love my time here, and it will undoubtedly be one of my most cherished experiences thus far. I will miss Melbourne. But as much as it will sadden me to leave at the end of the year, I know in my heart that I cannot call her home.
***
Give me an hour and I'll give you your dream.
"Shh" - Frou Frou
thus spoke Noelle at 6/17/2005 11:38:00 AM
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