Tuesday, February 28, 2006

My new life as a dirty filthy leeching student

First day of uni yesterday. I felt a bit like a 5 year old on the first day of Prep, minus the oversized backpack and blindingly white bobby socks. Almost wanted to have my photo taken with mum, dad and various grandparents, bearing a gappy smile.

First of all was the welcome speech, which droned on and on about what a great university I've joined, and nevermind it being a small regional campus with bugger all facilities - the important thing was that I have access to the facilities of the main campus (you know, the one that gets 99.8% of all the funding? Good). This should come in handy when I'm putting together an essay three hours before it's due and I can't access the material I need because it's at frigging Bundoora. Anywho. My favourite part of the speech was when the Pro-Vice Chancellor was introducing the staff and couldn’t remember one lecturer's surname. Apparently she's lectured there for about 6 years. Pisser.

Then we were able to collect our student cards (hellooooo cheap movies) and as expected, the digital technology distorted my face into something that doesn't resemble me in the slightest. I've got a feeling that if I ever present the card to anyone in order to access cheap shit, that I'll have to grab each side of my face and push it in different directions so they'll recognise the likeness and I'm not accused of ripping some freak's ID off.

Then the Student Union put on a free lunch for everyone, at a local restaurant. So of course I raced back to the office to do some work and missed out. No big deal, I'm sure I'll meet everyone later.

At 3pm it was time for my first lecture, Psychology. Yay! The precise discipline of which I tried to study last time and couldn't be arsed finishing! Interestingly, the lecture was held via video-link across 3 campuses, which I found novel and no doubt later on will find annoying and impractical. It had a slight school of the air feel to it, whereby if you wanted to ask a question during the lecture you had to press a button on a machine thingo and talk into a microphone. I didn't ask any questions.

After the lecture, which skimmed across the history and different approaches of psychology we then had a tutorial which the tutor kindly compressed into 30 minutes as opposed to the scheduled hour. I was happy to discover that the tutor is the same bloke that we get to write assessments/reports for our crime and family clients here at work, whom I quite like. He impressed upon us that he expects us to devote a minimum of 6 hours per week outside of face-to-face time on his subject, which made me not like him quite so much anymore. In fact I wanted to throw my $130.00, extremely heavy textbook at his head.

Got home, skimmed the course guide which was kindly provided. Contemplated just how I was planning to maintain two classes, a full time job, a house, a dog, a relationship and a social life all at once. Best start practising that plate spinning methinks. Got into that sort of motivated-with-billions-of-bundles-of-energy mode by that stage so weeded and watered the garden, cleaned the kitchen, did a load of washing, vacuumed the entire house and had started a gorgeous chicken thai red curry before Pom even got home. I'm breaking out in a sweat just writing it down.

After dinner (most simple yet gorgeous and healthy meal I've cooked in AGES) Pom and I spent some quality time in the backyard spliffing up and laughing at the dogs. We have got mum's dog Max back for a contact visit for the week. Those two poochies are HILARIOUS, they're just like children. When they were first here together they were great, and then when Max went home, Lucy cried and sulked for about three days. So now Max is back, however the whole dynamic has changed because the house and yard is now Lucy's territory, and Pom and I are her people. If Max comes up for a pat, Lucy will push past him to make sure she's the closest one to me and he can't get any more affection than she does. She practically tries to climb into my lap, which is not so cool now that she's almost 6 and not a little puppy anymore. I bought them some huge marrowbones yesterday to keep them occupied, and she has managed to stake a claim over both of them, snarling and growling if Max tries to even come close. The poor boy. He gets his own back though. For example, if Lucy is laying quietly in the grass, Max will sidle up and just brush past her enough to incite a wrestle. They piss eachother off constantly, but deep deep down underneath, there is only love. Which makes for much amusement when we're stoned beyond belief.

So anyway, no more uni until Friday, when I have my Modern Literature lecture and tute. Lots of work, however, and tonight I am also giving blood again which cuts my evening in half. It's so taxing being a good samaritan, although a little bandage over my elbow is a licence for sympathy, valid for a few hours only. Shall be milking that baby for all it's worth.

Comments:
Aww, reading about Max and Lucy made me smile, so cute. I have serious dog envy since living in Australia, everyone seems to have dogs, everywhere I go they taunt me with their cuteness and owner devotion. It has started taking me ages to get places as I have to stop and stroke every dog I see.

More Lucy photos please!

My cat knows we would like a dog one day and is planning to live forever just to spite us.


P.S. That lecture sounded quite whizz-bang scary.
 
Oh Lordy, I was WAITING FOR SOMEBODY TO ASK! I think having a dog is not entirely dissimilar to having a child (not having experienced childbirth, mind) in that, for the past (almost) 6 years, I have been completely obsessed with Lucy, and also that not many other people who don't know her, couldn't give a toss about her new photo's, new tricks, wellbeing etc. It's entirely frustrating for me to try to get my head around the fact that not everybody loves my dog as much as I love my dog. Does that make sense? I'm trying to salvage some semblance of dignity in this comment.

It so did not work.
 
I know exactly what you mean but I think people are a bit more sympathetic to hearing you talk about your dog. Dogs command a certain respect from both men and women.

Talking about my cat (which I do a lot) I'm sure makes me sound like some sad old Bridget Jones type and I feel I should say 'I have a boyfriend too, honest!'. It also probably seems insane to some people that I would spend so much money bringing him to Australia with us. But we have been together for 10 years, my longest realtionship with a dude! Now, I am sounding sad...
 
Oh God no, I understand you wanting to come here with you COMPLETELY. Did he have to wait ages in quarantine? Were you allowed to visit him during that time? (That may defeat the purpose of him being quarantined, however).
 
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