Ordinary People

Last night, at some point whilst I scrubbed at the stove range with steel wool and Lysol wipes, it fully sank in that I live here. Here, at 5-17 Flemington Road, North Melbourne, Victoria, Australia. Here, in Australia. In Melbourne.

I go to class, I buy groceries, I make dinner every night. I have friends over, and I clean and live my life in my little apartment surrounded by a culture I don't fully understand yet and many, many thousands of people that I do not know.

It occurred to me, as I idly watched the Ashes (for the uninformed, the Ashes are a huuuge cricket tournament between England and Australia. Huge deal around here) and chatted with friends from home, that this is not just some glorified vacation. I had hoped that this weekend would be a little more exciting than it turned out to be; I happen to be of the opinion that the first weekend of term will either be a lot of fun or completely boring, with no middle ground. Certainly I've noticed that most people take one of two stances: (1) "Crap, classes have started and now I need to be a serious student!" or (2) "Fuckk, you mean I actually have to do work? Let's get drunk to commiserate."

We all know which one I wanted to do. After all, I am in Australia, and we are legal to drink here, and, whilst I do honestly enjoy my classes, I'd rather go out with my friends (even if we don't necessarily drink or get drunk) and have a good weekend than sit around at my desk mucking through hundreds of pages of reading.

But it struck me just now as I stood under the water for my four-minute shower that this is my life. Yeah, I should live it up, but I'm here for another four months. There will be plenty of opportunities for having fun.

And all in all, this weekend wasn't so bad. I have no Friday lectures or tutes, so I de facto have a three-day weekend every week. Jarrod came over Thursday night to watch True Beauty (and by watch, I mean mock), eat pizza, and do tequila shots out of plastic shotglasses lined with fruit roll-ups, and the next morning we lazed around the apartment, eating pancakes and muffins and generally wasting time. Hey, not the most productive of days, but a good time with good company nonetheless. After he left, I made dinner for myself and watched the Ashes and caught up with some friends back home. Saturday was similarly spent sleeping in (and I do mean really sleeping in -- like 2pm sleeping in), watching movies, chatting online, and eating leftovers. I cleaned the kitchen for a while; it's probably cleaner now than it has been in a few terms. Then I reorganised my half of the pantry and made a shopping list of things I need to go get. I even managed to get some writing done. This morning, a bunch of the Arcadians came over for a potluck brunch and we had a great time sitting around chatting in my kitchen. It's not the most exciting life, but it's by no means a bad one, either.

Not to mention I've got four more months of this life. Not every weekend can be the all-out, get drunk, go dancing sort of crazy fun. Lazy weekends are fun too. Studying abroad is meant to give you all sorts of learning experiences aside from just purely academic ones. You learn to adapt to a new culture, a new lifestyle.

I've been so concerned with having a good time that I missed the part where I'm doing something that's really, truly amazing -- I'm making a life for myself in a place that, a year ago, I'd only really dreamed about going. I'm living fully on my own, meeting amazing people, and getting to know an amazing city and country.

It's been a great weekend. =)