That was exceedingly awkward.

I’m in the uni computer labs. I’ve been here since about 10 AM. When I arrived, I sat down, logged in and started working. I glanced up and did a double take. A girl sitting about four metres away was looking at erm, naughty photos and videos. Every now and then, she would look around (nervously) then go back to her monitor. The other five people in the lab had their eyes fixed on their own monitors with studied concentration. I shook my head and went back to my work.

As the minutes wore on, more people filtered in. People would walk in, stop in disbelief then sidle away. Other people walked in blithely and sat down but it wasn’t long before they had clued in to what was going on and began whispering to each other in incredulous tones.

An hour ticked passed. There were now thirty people in the room. By then, the girl seemed to have forgotten to check that she wasn’t being watched.

Come on, girl, this is a public lab. What’s going on in your head? Don’t you think people can see what you are doing? Please, you’re embarrassing yourself.

Finally, I got up, walked across and tapped her desk. Nine quiet words.

“I don’t think you should be doing that here.”

She ducked her head, nodded and quickly closed the windows. By the time I had walked back to my seat, she had gathered up her belongings and was hurrying out the door.

Damjan and I saw my mum hovering above our fish bowl with the digital camera. Concentrating, she framed the shot, then snapped Goldie and Freddie.

“What are you doing, mum?”

With a start, she looked up. “Oh! … Look how clean the water is! Oh, that’s a good shot.” She proudly showed us the photo she had just taken.

It was indeed a good shot.

Damjan and I exchanged indulgent looks. I was amused… until I remembered that only a few weeks ago during a blackout, I had also been excitedly taking photos of the fish by candlelight.

You know what they say about the apple falling far from the tree.

Norm tells me, “This is a list of actual newspaper headlines that have been collected due to their comic value… enjoy!” I read these in a uni computer lab and it took all my willpower to stop myself from laughing out aloud!

Psychics predict world didn’t end yesterday

Sun or rain expected today, dark tonight

Cancer Still Killing 100 A Day – Doctors Resolve To Do Better

White House Wins On Budget Deal With Congress, But More Lies Ahead

Statistics show that teen pregnancy drops off significantly after age 25

Grandmother of Eight Makes Hole in One

Deaf Mute Gets New Hearing in Killing

Police Begin Campaign to Run Down Jaywalkers

Two Convicts Evade Noose, Jury Hung

Iraqi Head Seeks Arms

Safety Experts Say School Bus Passengers Should be Belted

Panda Mating Fails – Veterinarian Takes Over

Eye Drops Off Shelf

Dealers Will Hear Car Talk at Noon

Mad Cows Demand Milkmaids Use Hand Lotion

Jane Fonda to teens: Use head to avoid pregnancy

Include Your Children When Baking Cookies

Stolen Painting Found by Tree

Local High School Dropouts Cut in Half

Survivor Of Siamese Twins Joins Parents

Lung Cancer In Women Mushrooms

Never Withhold Herpes Infection From Loved Ones

Sex Education Delayed, Teachers Request Training

Physicist recommends bigger balls to slow down male tennis players

Complaints About NBA Referees Growing Ugly

Defenestration is one of my favourite forms of assassination.

Defenestration n : the act of throwing someone or something out of a window.

Looking up environmetally efficient windows, I’ve stumbled across the existence of the National Fenestration Rating Council. I didn’t know there was a positive form of defenestrate!

Fenestration n : Any opening in a building’s envelope including windows, doors and skylights.

Dictionary.com provides further definitions for defenestration.

n. [mythically from a traditional Czech assasination method, via SF fandom]

1. Proper karmic retribution for an incorrigible punster. “Oh, ghod, that was _awful_!” “Quick! Defenestrate him!”
2. The act of exiting a window system in order to get better response time from a full-screen program. This comes from the dictionary meaning of `defenestrate’, which is to throw something out a window.
3. The act of discarding something under the assumption that it will improve matters. “I don’t have any disk space left.” “Well, why don’t you defenestrate that 100 megs worth of old core dumps?”
4. Under a GUI, the act of dragging something out of a window (onto the screen). “Next, defenestrate the MugWump icon.”
5. The act of completely removing Micro$oft Windows from a PC in favor of a better OS (typically Linux).

I am most humoured.

P.S. Today is my birthday. I had a lovely birthday picnic yesterday. My mum catered and my friends entertained me. I felt so loved.

Acquaintance X seems to like Friend Y.

Friend Y is either oblivious or so polite that she can act naturally around X.

Friend Z and I have been watching. We watched, exchanged looks. Nodded because without consulting each other, we knew we had come to the same conclusion. It would never (should never) work. X is nice enough but … more showy (forward, contrived) than Y would ever be. He’s not a terrible person (talented, hard-working, smart) but in the words of Cher Horowitz, “I just don’t think you mesh well together.”

It makes Z sad to see this impossible situation playing out before us. Maybe Z would like everyone to be as happy as they are. I am less charitable. I wish for X’s dignity and Y’s equanimity sake that X would be a bit more subtle about his infatuation.

Without knowing X very well (and at the risk of doing him a significant injustice), I think Y is too good for him.

I don’t want to disparage X’s feelings for Y. You can’t help how you feel. Just… dignity, please. Subtlety. Self-control.

Of course, Z and I will say nothing. It’s none of our business.

I’ve just come home from coffee with Gurpreet. We spent two hours talking about some of our attitudes to life. I am amazed at how different they are — it’s boggling.

Gurpreet separates her life into compartments — “Family doesn’t interfere with Work. Work doesn’t interfere with Family. Friends don’t interact with Temple. Marriage is all by itself.”

“Joan, I would never date anyone who my friends knew. It’s too risky. I’d be scared that if we broke up, it’d affect my friendships.”

“Really? I’m completely opposite. Some of my best friends I have met through my boyfriend.”

Gurpreet’s parents are in India at the moment, looking for a husband for her. She is quite amenable to the idea. “I’m actually looking forward to getting married. To finally settle down and not having to worry about marriage. Men. I’m so over them, Joan. I just want to get that part of my life sorted so I can concentrate on my work.” Gurpreet will be doing her PhD in biomedical science next year.

“Gurpreet, I couldn’t do it. I’d be terrified of being married to someone I didn’t care for, didn’t respect.”

She shrugs. “I do get a say. I trust my parents to choose someone I like. And I get along with most people. You know, arranged marriages are often more successful than love marriages. I don’t believe in love marriages. I look around and see all these divorces. It just doesn’t work.”

Gurpreet and I nutted out a theory that partly explains our differing philosophies. To her, marriage is a slice in the pie of life. It’s a component, separate from all the other components. It either works or it doesn’t — and whether or not it works has no bearing on the rest of her life. As long as she has her research, her friends, then she will be happy. In fact, she sets higher standards for her friends than her life partner.

To me, I think my future life partner would not be simply a slice in the pie. The relationship would the base of the pie. Almost everything will built on top of it. I would share my friends with my partner, find new friends through him. I might bring my work home and talk about it. My partner would join my family. Because the relationship would be so comprehensively weaved into my life, if it failed, it would be impossible to maintain life’s equilibrium.

Of course, we’ve simplified things to emphasise the differences in our attitudes. Intellectually, I understand that Gurpreet can be happy with the life course she has mapped out but emotionally, it is very difficult for me to believe anyone could be happy this way. I could never give up control over such a fundamental aspect of my future, such as the choice of who I spend my life with.

Mum woke me up with a new fashion goodie.

“Look what I bought for you, Joan! Wear this today. It’s going to be sunny.”

It was a deep purple t-shirt with the word “Active” in silver across the front. Hurrah! I donned my t-shirt, ready for the first real spring day at university.

I walked right into student elections. There were swarms of student politicians, activists accosting bewildered students with pamphlets and well-rehearsed harangues. It is the most hated time of the year.

The largest political party is called ‘Activate’… They wear deep purple t-shirts, with ‘Activate’ emblazoned across the chest.

Oh, what badly timed fashion! The worst time I could have picked to break in my new t-shirt. All day, people were coming up to me, saying, “Joan, I didn’t know you were involved in student politics!” I’m not, I’m not!

Hehe…

I’ve done no work this weekend. Zero. Zip. Zilch. Naught. Nada. Nil.

Hooray!

The next few weeks will be the home stretch. Four weeks of university, three weeks of exams then I’m done (for now).

I often start sentences, “When I grow up…” and people laugh. In Australia, being 18 years old is “grown up”. I don’t think I’ve ever felt fully grown up because I still depend on mum and dad for many things, like health insurance, advice and laundry. I also knew that there was plenty for me to learn still, academically and personally.

But I’m on the verge of being “grown up”. I can see how I could relatively easily transist (verb for transition, please?) into independence. I still don’t know everything but I have the tools to learn. My finances will fall into place next year when I have a full time job. I can go anywhere in my car, by public transport or plane. I am confident I can organise myself and the people around me.

I remember in high school thinking, “In 2006, when Melbourne hosts the Commonwealth Games, I’ll be 24 years old. Good golly! Jumping Jimminey!” And it’s almost here (in fact, I did some environmental work for the Government on the Commonwealth Games Village).

The course of life is unpredictable. Which is why I’m setting myself up for a fall because I will now set out A PLAN here. This is not what I want. It’s just me scenarionising. In writing this down, the biggest struggle was deciding the non-work things like marriage and kids — this is the topic I know least about!

Whaddya reckon?

Oh, what a night. Months of planning and weeks of action resulted in a triumphant Dinner Dance for our dance clubs. The drab ballroom turned into a warm space. The music was good, dancefloor spinning with people all night, prizes welcome, hampers appreciated, food enjoyed, table names the highlight (of course).

The floorshows were something special. We had the first comedy dance floorshow I’ve ever seen. The Argentine Tango performance was intricate and intimate. The Latin floorshow was amazing, fiery, riveting.

All these adjectives. Too much telling, not enough showing. Ah, well.

The best indicator for a good Dinner Dance is the organisation of the medal presentations. I am proud to say the presentations were efficient, almost flawless (although somewhat unceremonial).

By the end of the night, I was being heaped with thanks and congratulations. I was very pleased but somewhat embarrassed. Thanks were welcome but I will share them around with at least three major supporting actors.