I'm like some kind of Random Magnet, aren't I?

On Wednesday, post psych tests (which mostly consisted of repetitive questions intended to subtly [cough] work out whether or not I'm anorexic, schizohprenic, or an abused child), I was accosted by some Randwick Girls at the bus stop. I swear I did nothing to provoke them - they just randomly called me over and started interrogating me. "What school do you go to? What's your name? What kind of music do you like? Are you gay? What are your subjects next year? Whablah blah blah? Blah blah? BLAH BLAH BLAH."

They then tried to prevent me from boardin the 400 bus by waving their arms and yelling "Don't catch that bus!"

Yes, odd. Even odder was the fact that on friday, while walking across my park, a middle aged Russian lady with curly dark hair waved me over to her porch and asked me to go into her house. When I made O_o faces she said "I was a doctor! I show you!" and tried to pull me inside. I made excuses about my bus, she talked at me in Russian 9saying basically the same thing) and then I made my escape.

I don't THINK I was going to wake up in an icebath without my kidneys, but you just don't go into random strangers houses alone. Really, i think she was just lonely - I intend to go round later with my mum and some ookies or something. I'm sure she just wanted to show me her certificate of medicine, or whatever.

...right.

Backyard History

I haven't made an entry about the riots. Well, I don't know much about it, really. Just that there's an inordinate amount of police around lately.

But then I stopped to think. "The riots". I mean, we're all so blase about it. But it's not exactly a part of everyday life. I mean... I mean, they roadblocked Cronulla. Isn't that the teensiest bit exciting? And isn't it fascinating to think that in fifty years this will be a boring detail in somebody's Australian History class... or maybe, in the context of things yet to come, it will be an event everybody knows about, and there will be documentaries about it, and my nieces and nephews will say "Aunt Maggie, where were you when the Sydney Riots happened?". Certainly it will be an event in books yet unwritten. Any piece of fiction set in this time will needs mention it, because it's a part of the setting now. Isn't that freaky?

We certainly live in interesting times.

The Return of the Revenge of the Fiance of the Second Cousin of Count Micthulumortvadersteinula

While I was at Stan's on Tuesday, he got a call from Mic suggesting that he organise a welcome home party - his flight would come in at 10:00 pm tomorrow. There was a bit of a HAHAHA no. moment. Eventually Laivi's house got commandeered for Thursday. Stan said to come at six - when we got there at eight it turned out Laivi had told people to come at seven thirty. Nobody else was there yet. Go figure.

Anyway, Mic got his welcome home, we played cards, and I stacked poker chips into symmetrical, er, ...stacks. I even had a cool jenga style thing going, except then I was informed that I'd get the proverbial metaphorical smackdown from Laivi if I scattered poker chips all over his garage (which was semi-flooded thanks to the neighbor's pool overflowing), so I dissassembled it.

I managed to have a bit of an emo moment without anybody noticing - I blamed it on lack of blood sugar, which is fair enough since after I FINALLY managed to convince people to pass the plate round for pizza money and got some cheesy goodness in me I felt much, much better. Really, though, it was probably PMS.