Embers.

The return to Marlo holds no real importance to uni other than the fact that unlike last year, I spent exactly no time thinking about uni.

Yay for tired and windblown me.

with old friends

Distractions, I'm trapped by so many distractions.

For the past three weekends I have played cricket both days, as my team snuck unexpectedly into the finals, then into the next game, then eventually into the grand final. This is all well and good, in fact it'd be great if we'd managed to win the grand final. Instead we lost what we should have won, resigned to being a bit of a laughing stock, and then consequently celebrated the loss in a similar manner to the victors.

Regardless of all of this, I am trying to pass uni and keep my head above water, passing distractions are not helping.

Three weekends eaten up, numerous weekdays taken up the Commonwealth Games, and subsequent struggles to catch up have left me feeling as if I'm treading water. The Comedy Festival is coming up, and the footy season has started.

I'm about to get a week off, and face it in better nick than I was this time last year. I'm heading to Marlo again for Easter, but I'm still, despite my good itentions and hard work, facing having to catch up during the week off.

Blah.

Catch it!

Daylight savings time appears to have wrong footed me. Somehow, despite getting everything right yesterday, I managed to follow a wrong clock today (it was either my beside clock, or the clock on my eMac, I'll be holding an enquiry when I get home), and walked into my tute to be greeted by the Phantom of the University-esque AV guy busily shifting a television out of the room.

TS: "Ahhh, what's happening here?"

AVG: "Excuse me."

I'd prefer it if he'd shot back with something like, 'night time, sharpens, heightens each sen-sa-tioonnn." But alas, I have to work all the tricks myself when it comes to turning university life into a pliable, enjoyable written form.

With my spare hour I decided to grab some coffee and food, and was afforded the sort of gift wrapped blog fodder you can only dream about when four (presumably nursing) students huddled around next to me to sip away at their morning coffees.

I try to keep the 'listen to what this dickhead next to me said' recollections to a minimum on here, but their comments, coupled with their efforts to fight the tide of tracksuit pants that is sweeping the uni as Melbourne turns the switch to 'cold' makes them worthy of inclusion.

While the rest of the university succumbs to bad fashion, as the freezing Week 6 blues envelop the university, these four were fighting it back with low cut tops, high heels, and what was either terrible fake tan, or many hours spend in a solarium - either way, the result was disastrously out of place and orange.

Across coffee, and to the cooing oohhs and ahhs of her audience, the mother hen discussed her pending trip to Spain, her brother's return from Italy, and the way in which she drinks coffee really quickly when she is 'having coffee with men.'

Hen: "When I was working in the city, the head photographer used to take me out for coffee all the time, and I would like drink so much coffee. And he would like tell me about his sex life and stuff, tell me he had photos and everything."

Chorus: "Coo. Ooh. Ahh."

Hen: "And at the end he would always pay for the coffee, and I'd be all unsure about whether I should have coffee with him, if it was for the right reasons. But he'd pay again next time as well."

Prior to this they talked about how much they hated Lee Harding, but the mother hen added glibly that 'I liked that Wasabi song.' At this point, another of them joined from a second pack that had formed and piped up, 'did you say you liked that Wasabi song?'

Chorus: 'WASABI! TSUNAMI!'

Eventually I had to go, although now I'm wondering if I might have caught dumb off them. Is that possible?