So here I am, full of pasta, relaxing on the couch after a hard days' work. And by hard I mean I had to stay awake all day and wear clothes. It was rough. But jokes aside, it was actually really annoying to wear a skirt and shoes. All. Day. Alright I'm done now. It actually was really great to get up in the morning and have something to do that made me money, instead of costing me money. Which is great because I'm severely low on said money. But I have not asked The Bank of G. Munro for a loan (yet) so I feel fairly grown up and mature. Having people give me things like room and board and food and cars has been a life-saver, however, so I can't be that mature after all.
Have I mentioned I'm listening to 'Essential 90's' on MTV as I write? 1) I had no idea MTV still played any music videos, but burned them all to make room for gems such as Is She Really Going Out With Him? and Geordie Shore (which are equally awful in different ways.) And 2) the 90's were awful. I have to change the channel because this is just terrible.
Well that's done. Is anyone even still reading this? To the point! Which is, of course, that there is no point. Hah! So anyway I am feeling a lot more 'me' this evening. Not quite the neurotic, whiny, pre-Aus Frittany we all knew and loved. But I'm a lot more on the ball than chilled out, lazy, trouble-putting-together-cohesive-thoughts Brittany. I was sitting the reception desk today, having gone through a bit of training and having done a lot of helpless shrugging at people who looked to me for direction, when I finally spoke to a visiting man and typed the right things into the computermachine, and did a job and felt productive. It was like a switch flipped on in my brain again! As much as I hate to admit it, I enjoy admin office work. Don't get me wrong, I still want to get my shit together and become a touchy-feely scarf-wearing therapist lady. But this will do in the mean time.
So that's that. On to the fun stuff. Two weekends ago I went out for Amy's bday. We met in Canada, and I became good friends with her and the rest of the 21 Jump Street crew (so named by me, because their apartment number was 2109. Those silly Aussies didn't know 21 Jump Street was a show in the 80's and were amazed when the movie came out. But now they make fun of me for not knowing about AUS shows like 'Skippy The Bush Kangaroo' which is essentially 'Lassie' but with a kangaroo instead of a dog. I digress.) So most of what we all did in the days of 21JS was get smashed and wreak havoc on Calgary night life. Yelling agressively at random people in the street was Kelsie's thing. Stealing glassware was Amy's forte. Jo drunkenly skyped her bf. Luke aka Maddog usually ended up hurting himself somehow. Saara got asked if she was a lesbian, because of her recently shorn hair. (I now know how she felt.) Bondy was generally drunk all the time.
My thing was getting in to dance offs. And most of the time, winning said dance offs. As I have mentioned many times before, I look psychotic when I dance. So I'm not sure if the people I'm dancing off against have all been somewhat handicapped, or if everyone is always too blind drunk to know what's going on. Probably both. The main thing is, we were a mostly-reunited crew at Amy's bday that night, out at the Hip E Club, which has been referred to as a dirty sweat pit. It was great fun and inevitably, I was in a dance off. Luke recorded me during this manic display and the next day I made a fatal mistake. The thing I swore I would never do. I watched myself dance. It was funny, but also disturbing. I couldn't get the lanky-limb-flailing spectacle out of my head. When I went out again this past Friday I couldn't relax and just looked like the bored boring tall girl in the corner. I was sure that all had been lost.
But wait, there's more. I met up with some friends of mine on Saturday night, after a few glasses/bottles of wine. We were hanging out in a magical fairyland of string lights and installation art called the Perth Fringe Fetsival or something like that. I was en route to the washrooms when I saw a tall hipster man in a white blazer tearing it up on his own personal grassy dancefloor. Before I had a chance to think about it, my body was in action. Crazy legs and spaghetti arms and head whipping everywhere! It was a brief but powerful moment. I was back to normal! The tall man gave me a congratulatory hug and said "you're great!" To which I responded with a queen-like shriek of "Giiiiirrl!!!!" because I am now apparently a flamboyant gay man when I'm drunk.
And so no matter how corporate I am during the day, I have a feeling that Frittany will still have her shining moments at night. Or during the day on weekends. People drink a lot here, it's basically a national pastime. And even if I now know for certain how silly I look while I'm grooving, I still have fun. There's no point in hiding who you are. Unless you save your own condoms*. Defnitely hide that. Now off to bed I go, to dream of all the adventures yet to come.
*Reference Point: http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/gross%20habits
