The World According To Me

Blogging from my couch is an indulgence I had forgotten about. It is quite lovely. I have a tall glass of orange cordial on the coffee table beside me, together with the course material and text from the criminology unit I am pretending to be working on. I have only typed 2 pages of notes pertaining to the formal mechanisms of social control and already my mind is numb. This whole uni thing is going to take some getting used to, again. My patterns of thinking have been inside the square for so long now that my brain is almost a cube.

This long, glorious weekend was both long and glorious. It was spent, for the most part, with friends in the big smoke. My housemates* and I trekked down on Friday afternoon, getting pulled up by the Police on the Hume for speeding and the driver explaining "I'm sorry, but we were singing show tunes and didn't realise how fast we were going. Shirley Bassey does that to you". We saw Keating! The Musical on Friday night and marvelled in its' brilliance. We had drinks at the Imperial afterwards, and I nearly imploded when we walked in to a Young Liberals gathering, sandwich board and all.

The following morning, after a cooked breakfast and a reasonably hassle-free game of scrabble (a rarity, but then again we weren't drinking so the chances of an argument were lowered) we headed to the local shopping plaza and plattered up. Then after an appropriate amount of arsing around buying tasty treats and stocking up on drinks, we began the afternoon session. I do love drinking in the daytime (When the occasion calls for it. Like, a Saturday). Later that night, suitably liquored up, we headed to the Retreat. It was my first time there. I am always relieved when I go somewhere in Melbourne and find that it's "my type of place", having well-placed phobias of uppity posh bars where I could never fit in or relax.

On Sunday, whilst my housemates continued on their journey to the Chillout Festival in Daylesford, I hung out with my besties, playing more scrabble and later was taken into the city where I ate the best Mee Goreng noodles and stocked up on nori rolls. There is only one place that does them here in Shepparton (seriously. I could not be more ashamed to write this) and they are rubbish anyway, so I always get my fix when I'm in Melbourne. I boarded the train in the early evening and was home by 10pm to be greeted by whingy cats and a grateful dog.

I slept in peacefully this morning and pottered around doing inane things before settling down in the loungeroom to finally get cracking on some study. Just prior to the housemates getting home.

Sigh.

Sometimes I do wish I lived alone again. I miss it. I don't miss always being broke (although, stangely, that still seems to be the case, mostly) but I do miss the quiet and the space and the ability to only worry about being considerate to myself and not being a tiny bit offended if I'm not considerate back.