Yesterday I bought this T-Shirt that says "Aussie Drinking Party: Coming to a Pub Near You" from the supermarket for $3.50. I don't really know why I did it, it was one of those freak decisions you end up either regretting or loving. I feel at this stage I have love for my purchase. Never fear, this does not mean that I am becoming an Australian. More and more, I feel like a New Zealander. I didn't think that my land and my upbringing was as important as I now feel like it is. Its so weird, and I am sure my Australian friends tire of it, but i spent my waking life comparing here to New Zealand. The other day I spent at least ten minutes discussing the colour of milk bottle caps in New Zealand. See, pride.
College (what they say college here? I didn't know I had moved to the US) is so different from in New Zealand, at least what I think of hall life in New Zealand. For example, on Saturday we had Ormond Day. All the freshers bought the bumblebee (our college rugby jersey) and then was greeted to an open bar, time circa 11am. Our courtyard was covered with old fashioned leather couches, sun umbrellas and life size connect four games. If you walked through to the main entrance, they had hired one of those mechanical bulls that you would see in a darkened southern bar and a Mr Whippy truck. And so, in true Ormond fashion, I got drunk on an enormous amount of Pimm's and was hungover by dinnertime. And then, the next day, we had an Ethics course. For 7 hours, where the Master of the College discussed morals. To get drunk in the daytime, and then sit through a lecture on the right thing to do. What is life.
O Week alone was a true testament to the enormity of this College and College life in general. Every day was filled with activities, whether it was to go on an amazing race all over Melbourne or to partake in sex quizzes, everything was ago. And then, if we weren't tired enough, our nights were filled with outrageous parties. We were splattered with paint one night, treated to cocktails the next. Tonight, a Wednesday night, I am preparing to go to a Smoko (a dress up party that we have every few weeks) wearing a garbage bag. And then, tomorrow, I have 6 hours of uni lectures, starting at 9 am. The weirdest thing about living here is that everyone is so intelligent that no one works. I have not seen a single person study since I came here, even though some in order to stay have to keep up high distinction averages.
The other day Tessa and I sought out a taco truck I had been desperately following on Facebook. It was in the most hipster of neighborhoods and they were the most delicious of tacos. I have now made it my life's work to find the most delicious food in Melbourne and eat it, and subsequently get fat. The latter is not in fact my goal, but I am resigned to the fact that eventually it will happen. So be it, I must eat.
There is so much to do here that I barely have time to think about home. But when I do, I miss you all so much. I think about all the amazing times you must be having with one another, and I get so excited to come back and see you all. I can't help but thinking that when we all come back to Wellington it will be so brilliant, because we will all be reunited and together again. That sounds so sappy but I love it that when I talk to you all we can pick up where we left off on the streets of Lambton Quay, in the halls of Wellington Girls or the Botanical Gardens, where we all spent so much time together.
Tell me all about what is going on in your world, I want to know everything.
Lots of Love,
Mary
