Michelle / Melbourne, Australia. Writer, medical student, cruciverbalist and cat aficionado. Creative subeditor at Lot's Wife and fiction editor at Voiceworks Magazine.
I am pro-choice, anti-bullshit and proudly feminist.
This blog features politics, gender equality, racial issues, pop culture and some daily shenanigans. All opinions my own. Join the conversation and drop me an ask. x
Tonight was Harry Potter trivia night! The ever brilliant society, Monash Muggles, held it on campus at Sir John’s Bar. Our team, Tom’s Riddles, did super well—we came a close second (by half a bloody point!) to Can We Slytherin.
I only really knew 2 people on the team as the others were new Roberts kids. But food, drinks and the ever-bonding power of Harry Potter solved all of that.
Favourite team names of the night: That’s So Ravenclaw, Gryffinwhores, Ginny’s Got A Gun and Big Booty Snitches.
Favourite moments of the night: singing the Hogwarts song to the tune of Call Me Maybe, watching D trying to wolf down giant pythons in the snake challenge, wedgachos, N in a Rumbleroar costume and discussing childhood favourites such as A Series of Unfortunate Events and Deltora Quest.
This is what I do with my Monday nights now. YOLO, bitches.
Snapshot of one night in Brisbane last week. I had a surprisingly good time. Granted, that may be because they played The Strokes, The Smiths, The Wombats, Two Door Cinema Club and Phoenix, and I may have indulged in a bit of hip-and-leg action for “Twist and Shout”, and I was with two very lovely girls, but still surprising on the whole.
There comes a time when going out becomes tiring and I think I may have reached that point. I’ve become a total grandma. All I want to do nowadays is sit at home with apple pie and a pot of tea whilst watching Masterchef. Perhaps this is what happens when you exhaust your going-out capacity when you’re still underage.
To be honest, though, I’ll still probably venture outside from time to time. Not for the drinks or the men, but for the company of good friends and to indulge in some shameless dancing. I’m tired of expensive cab rides home, being hit on by absolute sleazeballs, being touched inappropriately without permission or being greeted with some variant of ni hao! or konnichiwa! I like nights like this one I had in Brisbane, where the only thing on our minds was the fantastic music and cock-blocking anyone that tried to make a move. That makes me sound old and boring, doesn’t it? Especially in comparison to the crazy shenanigans that I got up to last year. Where has all my supposed youth and energy gone? Why am I seriously contemplating buying a Snuggie? What is happening to me?
A friend managed to snag double passes to the VICE Presents: Chateau Rdio launch party last night at The Worker’s Club in Fitzroy. There were DJs aplenty (Indian Summer, 3RRR, Alpha60, FAT and god knows how many more) packing out the upstairs rooms, and downstairs saw Gold Fields, Die! Die! Die! and Love Connection.
The poorly-supressed hipster in me has been rejoicing at the fulfilment of a shameful life goal: attending a launch party—one curated by VICE and The Thousands, no less. The number of beards, v-necks and large-framed glasses in the admittedly quite-attractive crowd made the half-drunk friend-making process so much more appealing.
It also didn’t help that after asking for a massive bottle of Coopers (they’d run out of Bulmers at that point), the bartender gave it to me for free. Cue the confusion. Turns out I’d stumbled upon some beautiful, beautiful happy hour!
It was a super sweet night. I made a few new friends (none of whom I’ll see again), rocked out to the bands and drank scotch and cokes like a cat with milk. Now, if only someone could teach these hipster kids that it’s okay to dance.
So last night I popped into Briggs for pre-PFE drinks (even though I wasn’t going to PFE) and snuck in a cheeky daiquiri. Alex, my friend-come-bartender, was mixing drinks for everyone. Quick chat, then off I went to the CBD to watch Private Romeo at the Melbourne Queer Film Festival (MQFF).
I’m a major Shakespeare geek, so I loved how the film was pretty much entirely lines taken from Romeo & Juliet (but the setting was transposed into that of a military academy). It was hilarious, though, because so many things didn’t make sense. The directors didn’t bother making direct correlations apart from the obvious Romeo-Juliet debacle. For example, I still don’t know what “marriage” was supposed to be, or what factions the Capulets and Montagues were supposed to be representing. And the ending! It made no sense!
Regardless, it was definitely worth it. Even if the seats were ridiculously low-backed and the degree of slouching I did gave me back cramps (hooray for being young and having the ability to rebound!)
Then it was off to drinks at The Lucky Coq on Chapel with pre-PFE friends. Very packed. Good DJ. Got a lift home at 3am: ah, the beauty of not catching a nightrider.
And now if I can motivate myself to do that study I’ve been putting off till the weekend…
St. Patrick’s Day was last Saturday. Here I am with the lovely Mahalia at her place for pres (clearly, this was taken at the beginning of the night).
Went down to Dooley’s (the local Irish pub) which was packed with other college kids living on campus or around the area. Great DJ and band; also just had chats with all the people I kept bumping into. Had resolved to not be quite as er, merry, as last year and that worked out pretty well—I remember the night, at least!
Thursday night saw Annie, Eleni, Viktor and myself at Gypsy Lounge on Oxford St. They run an event called Naked and, as dubious as the name sounds, it turns out to be pretty damn fantastic: cheap drinks, sweet tunes and good people.
The fact that they played Bohemian Rhapsody and the entire place joined together in song probably has something to do with it.
I’d forgotten what it was like to have such a great night out.