Custom Search

Sunday 31 May 2009

Out of date

As I write this, I am sitting on a train on my way to see Dylan Moran. I left only realised the time (I was yet to pack, clean the house, get changed, go to the station, buy a ticket etc.) about 10–15 minutes before the last train left. I managed it.

Photobucket

But now think I should write something about the incident currently occurring:

Firstly I’ll make reference to my previous post about north shore girls on trains (Oh. My. God. Like, so totally fall–out–boy). These people made me want to leave the north shore to avoid having to listen to them. I’m on the train now that goes to Newcastle, and experiencing some conversation from the local equivalent. Less American teeny bopper trash, more bogan trailer trash.

Anyhow; a few minutes ago a sulphurous smell began to permeate the carriage. The smell was not unusual for trains, but was stronger than the norm’, but nothing too unbearable. The smell hung for a few minutes before either of these girls noticed, but once they did: (Stops playing with belly button ring) “Oh fuck me, I’m gonna’ spew, and I ain’t kidding..” The conversation then began about the nature of the odour, and soon myself and the engineering student next to me began to discuss an even more concerning point: the carriage is slowly beginning to fill with smoke…


It is Saturday, and today I have started my major essay for Education. It is due on Monday, and tonight I’m going to Newcastle, then tomorrow I have rehearsals for this opera house production. I think this time I may have procrastinated a little too much.


Ok, quite some time has passed, and all of that is out of date. The story on the train finishes with no train explosion, but there is an interesting conclusion which would be drawn (if I could find the motivation to type it up) about a the return journey, and my spreading hatred of the north shore. Suffice to leave it with you reading aloud from the screen in the slowest and whiniest drawl you can possibly summon:

“Yaaa, so, like you Daaad. He would’ thort I was like a real intelligent girl and shit, like with lotsa oppurtunities and that hey. Then as soon as he found out we was like heroin addicts he just like didn’t want anything to do with me hay?”


Coming soon:

Hopefully some photos of me skidiving on Friday, and some reflection on the interesting drama due to unfold at the opera house over the next few days.