Drunk, dirty, and full

I have the next two days off university which comes as quite a surprise to me as they have been absolutely, as they say, busting my balls, or to put it in more visceral terms breaking my soul and crushing my will to live. With these days off I know I am meant to catch up on readings and do assignments, but that is never going to happen. With these days I will listen to music, write a blog post, and watch Grey’s Anatomy with an enthusiasm only achievable by someone who can’t get her head straight in her new city, and therefore thinks that nothing else matters.

I admit, I feel free. I am not ashamed of living so drunkenly, so dirtily, so fully. I’m training to be a teacher and the only thing that is hard about it is the early starts and the insistence that I will be a bad teacher if I don’t copy dance moves from a gay Maori man dressed in full lycra. It’s pretty liberating to be certain that the decision you made to sell out and become a teacher was actually the right one, but it is not liberating to have to express myself as embodied wind. I guess it’s all about going through the motions though, and I will, even if it means the motion is dancing.

I really miss my home and I can’t answer phone calls from my mum because I know I’ll start crying. Auckland is really odd in the way that every suburb only lasts for like one km and then you are somewhere new. I went and saw a film festival horror film and it rocked my socks. I stay up all night with my flat mates and just talk about life. Most of the people in my university classes are snobby but it’s alright because it really makes you appreciate the ones that aren’t. People tell more lies here and it is very obvious. But I also think people are scared, they all seem frightened. It is different here.