Aha, I forgot this existed.
Can you blame me? I’m 11 weeks balls deep in uni, I’ve just completed a major essay and trying to get organised – since exams are coming mid-June. So, it’s been a number of weeks since I’ve actually posted anything worth reading – and what I’ve learnt in comms is that trivial, entertaining things gather much more attention than actual boring facts that you have to know but don’t want to know. Let’s attempt to recap the 11 weeks of school so far.
Slang. Did you know, that a ‘budgie smuggler’ isn’t a bird smuggler? I didn’t – it actually means “tight fitting speedo-style trunks” – no, I am not kidding, it does. This came up in a politics lecture about Australian politics, and (apparently) no lecture about Australian politics is complete without mocking Tony Abbott and his Speedo trunks. Yours truly thought that Mr. Abbott was a bird smuggler, and quickly learnt that it wasn’t – people laughed at my horror, with one kind boy interjecting “spot the foreigner”, thanks pal.
HEL. I am, very thankful, that whatever I’ve learnt in my two years of suffering in JC actually has helped me, in one way or another. Truly, the skills you acquire and hone in those 2 horrid years will help you – so listen to your tutors.
Friendship. When your Aussie friend tells you “I got you”, “I’ll shout”, “Nah don’t worry about it I don’t want you to be alone”, they really mean it. “Aww you need friendship? I’ll come find you” is a common phrase I hear when I’ve got no one around. It’s not something I’m used to (my only friend who will actually drop everything if I need help lives in Toronto and it’ll take her 18 hours to get to me – and by that time, I wouldn’t need her help), so it’s a nice change.
Nobody cares. I could wear the same shirt 3 days in a row (provided it doesn’t stink) and nobody bats an eyelid. Also, I walked to the supermarket in pyjamas covered with pugs in pink and blue bows and nobody stares at me. Thank you, Aussie strangers, for letting me live my life and not (obviously) judging my life decisions.
Your opinion is welcomed. “Desiree, it’s ok to speak in class/we want to hear what you have to say/don’t be scared, take your time to frame your question” – my tutors. I learnt pretty quickly, that there is no such thing as politically correct answers, and controversy is very much encouraged, and if argued well, you won’t get marked down. Once in Singapore, my teacher called up my father to complain that I asked too many “irrelevant”, “above the standard” questions in class – what the hell?
POM/FOB. I expected this – and it’s really amusing to hear what people think about my ethnicity/race. Wait until the accent comes out – what will you hear?! The Irish will tell you Geordie-Brummie hybrid, the Singaporean is convinced it is not Singaporean, the Aussie thinks its “weird Asian”. Oh, fun and games!
Alright, I think that’s it. I need to go to bed, until the next time I get my arse off and actually have something of good substance to write.