"Grocery? Grocery Man? Grocery Man Goat? IS IT GROCERY MAN GOAT?!?!"
Fiji was lovely. It was exactly what the whole family needed; seven days of doing absolutely nothing and just relaxing by a pool, watching sunburnt Brits and Botoxed Yanks swim while the family went snorkelling and I slowly got drunk under the humid Fiji sun. Perfect antidote to what was, overall, a shitty 2009 ("shitty," by the way, is the entirety of my promised 2009 review; I did try to write something, but it resulted in a page of notebook paper with the words "fuck off 2009, you twat" scrawled across it in messy black pen.) Suffice to say, the bulk of my time in Fiji was spent at the Baravi Bar: drinking delicious cocktails with Mum, arguing with Brits about rugby, and taking advantage of Sam the local Kiwi millionaire getting tipsy enough to buy everyone's drinks. My hangover after that particular evening was a sight to behold.
The one thing I didn't do in Fiji was get angsty. On every other holiday, I tend to get very antisocial after awhile and start over thinking everything and getting so far into my head that I'm awful company. This time, I didn't get that at all, which was nice. It also meant that I didn't make any New Year’s resolutions whatsoever. Last year I resolved to quit smoking (somewhat successful), attend all my uni classes (broke on my first day back, but to be fair I knew that one was a bust), and commit to veganism (almost completely successful, to a fault). This year I've got nothing - some weak academic goals, and a vague notion of being less of a hermit, but there's nothing really pressing that I can be bothered to resolve to do / say / be / stop.
Hmm. On second thought, that whole "be less of a hermit, you antisocial bitch" thing might warrant the status of 'resolution' - as soon as I got back home, all I wanted to do was curl up and chill out by myself until work + uni started up again, but reading through twitter + facebook + lj and wonderfully rambling emails made me remember that these people do make me happy, and so maybe being an antisocial loner isn't so good for me. There's still a fairly good chance that I'll spend a lot of time alone; I like being by myself, and I find it very hard to understand people who have that need to be surrounded by people all the time. But maybe I won't bail on everything I'm invited to this year. Maybe.
Enrolled in my third year courses this morning. The whole Macquarie restructure means that some of the history units aren't available until next year, which meant that I had to pick up a couple more sociology classes in order to make up the credit points. Slightly annoying, but at least it guarantees me graduating with a double major.
On that note, HOW THE FUCK AM I ALMOST FINISHED A UNI DEGREE?!? I don't feel like I've done enough to earn a degree (albeit only undergrad) - I certainly don't put the effort in. I know it'll come back to screw me, and I do have a quasi-solid resolution to score a 4.0 GPA this year, but to be perfectly honest I'm ok with floating by at this point. Besides which, I don't think it's really hit me how serious it's getting; the majority of my friends are nowhere near graduating (either due to gap years, or switching degrees, or dropping out, or studying part-time, or doing four- or five-year degrees). I think Shannon's the only one who'll graduate before me, and even then she'll still have the internship to complete. In a couple of years I'll be going for my Masters; then what? There's the desire to travel, of course; going back to Malaysia, maybe doing the Europe thing. Honestly, I have no real goals - there's a pretty good chance I'll be a perpetual student, getting graduate diplomas in education and law degrees and working part-time jobs until I die in my cardboard box, broke and pathetic. Ah, humanities.
Random tidbits:
Chlorine + sea water + humidity = Bec's usual tame lion mane of hair turns into a full-blown white girl afro. Fiji made me extremely grateful for head-scarves and industrial strength hair elastics.
I’ve developed a liking for the colour pink.
Also for skirts.
And pedicures.
I can, despite all evidence to the contrary, develop a tan! Granted, my version of a tan is most people's winter pale, but my arms / face / legs are significantly browner than the rest of me and for that I am ecstatically surprised.
A week without Twitter is not as hard as I thought it'd be.
Although that didn't stop me Tweeting the second the plane touched down in darling Sydney.