From bad to worse.....

Tape up your windows….

Batten down the hatches…..

Shield your children……





A bomb has officially hit Gavin Dixon’s house (a.k.a "Hiroshima")

(Please don’t dump me baby!)

It's 12:45pm and I haven't showered, eaten or seen daylight yet. I'm slightly whiffy, getting peckish, fed up with uni work and getting paler by the minute (who would have thought that was possible!?)

Is there a self help group for overworked and underpaid students? And I'm not referring to Centrelink - clearly that's underworked and overpaid.

Back to work I'm afraid... [sigh] woe is me.....

Salute!

Yesterday was the last day ever of my university core classes, so naturally my friend Ez and I wanted to ‘kick on’ in the usual fashion (read: get smashed).

We started our stint at around 1:00pm with some refreshing daiquiris and I was feeling quite happy (with the exception of the odd brain freeze).
Other students slowly started to leave the university bar until it was Ez, her boyfriend and I sitting there twiddling our thumbs.

Where to now? We pondered. Ceasing drinking was definitely not an option. So it was suggested that we frequent the CBD and get our sexy on.
The lovely non drinking boyfriend of Ez volunteered to drop us off, and we set off on what was to be an interesting journey which went a little something like this:

Me: I saw *name of person we used to go to uni with* today at the station and walked with her to uni.

Ez: So does *name of person we used to go to uni with* still have a pizza face?

Me: Yeah, it’s not so bad, but it’s still bad, you know

Ez: Poor girl, she….

Boyfriend: Look, it’s Franco Cozzo (the building)

Me/Ez: (in Italian accents) Fran-coh Coh-zo!

Boyfriend: HOLY SHIT IT’S FRANCO COZZO!!!!!!!!! (the man….. the legend….)

It's freakin Franco!

There he was, Franco Cozzo, exiting his car outside of the store. Needless to say, Ez and I were highly excitable (not in the, ‘I need to change my panties way’, but more the ‘could this day get any better?’ way) and after this serious celeb spotting we dedicated the next five and a half hours drinking to our man, FC.

And drink we did.......

Oh God my head hurts.

"Paging Mary Poppins, Paging Mary Poppins"

It is 1:14pm.


I am in my PJ’s.


And this is the state of the desk area:

Gav will probably be having heart palpitations right now but I, too, hate mess, disorganisation and clutter. So currently my heart is being squeezed like an infant is clutching at it (and those little buggers have a tight grip!)

If anyone, anyone, so much as says to me ‘Oh, I’d luuurve to be a student, you get days off all the time’ or ‘oh, you’re a student, I wish I didn't have to work’ I will morph into an axe wielding psycho that makes Sigourney Weaver in ‘Alien’ seem more like Livinia Nixon.

A really, really hot axe wielding psycho...

Code Red

'No, I'm NOT pregnant!'

These were the words screamed by me to my university classmates in class this afternoon (after my face turned the shade of Ronald McDonald's fro).

Context always helps:

today at university we were intently listening to guest speakers’ talk to us about working with people who have intellectual disabilities in the sporting field. Overall, the speakers were informative and inspirational and I left university feeling educated, which is a rarity in itself.
One of the speakers spoke about muscular dystrophy, which stimulated the following class discussion:

Guest speaker: Muscular dystrophy is carried by the female but only affects males.

Classmate#1: Why is that? I don’t understand

Classmate#2: Reels of genetic information to classmate #1

Guest speaker: and that’s why women cannot be affected

All Classmates: oooooooooooh (light bulb moment)

Guest speaker: well, now you know for those future mothers in here

Classmate#1: screams out MY name!!!

This was, apparently, a perfectly timed comedic moment because EVERY SINGLE PERSON in the room laughed, including the guest speakers, lecturers and students, and they then turned their inquisitive eyebrows towards my extremely red face.

At this point I had my head buried in my hands so that I didn’t burn anyone with my scarlet glare, and it suddenly occurred to me that people might think I had a bun in the oven, which is certainly not the case, so at this point I screamed the aforementioned statement (just had to clarify that my tummy is a result of overeating, not a foetus).

Question: Does a generously sized stomach and hips = baby making?

Now I just want to avoid childbirth just to shit classmate#1.

How’d you like them apples?!

Question#2: Should I punch my classmate and return the humiliation by grabbing the ol’ turkey baster and secretly impregnating her with the genetic makeup of the ugliest man I can find?

I’ll start it off with this guy:

Student Life

Ways of avoiding copious amounts of homework:

1. Taking 60 minutes to eat dinner
2. Drinking Coke......Slowly......From a 1.5L bottle
3. Power napping
4. Watching the weather
5. Watching MASH
6. Putting washing away for the fun of it. Folding underwear isn't weird, right? What about smelling it?
7. Engaging in demented banter with my special friend Brodie
8. Searching Youtube for funny marital fights and Roxette video clips
9. Watching an extraordinarily painful Jordan and Peter Andre duet
10. Reading boyfriends blog for the millionth time
11. Drooling over boyfriend
12. Blogging
13. Repeating steps 2, 8, 10 and 11.

Update#1 (6:00pm): Still on step 2. Better go brush my teeth before they erode.

Update#2 (7:39pm): Have finished 1.5L Coke. Explains the twitch in my left eye and why I will probably be blogging at 2am.