End of the month blogging is hard. Seriously, guys. You've completely exhausted my creativity. I would tell you another amusing anecdote, but I haven't one and I've already done that.
I've done a few list-y type posts so I can't really do that again.
I've done my fair share of rants [seriously, those freaking food-related idioms. jerks, the lot of them].
I shall tell you an Adrienne Childhood Story, because the song is asking about childhood things and stuff and things so yeah.
Just after my 6th birthday, I moved to Canberra, from the much fairer (PEOPLE WHO HAVEN'T BEEN THERE SHOULD GO THERE. with me.) Melbourne, Awesome Capital of the World.
I'd known that we were moving for a few terrible months, during which I found not only that, but also that my ahhhhmazing cat Bruce had to be put down.
I really didn't want to move. I was moving away from family, from Courtney, from Cassandra and from some other things, I'm sure, just maybe I can't think of them right now, ok? Is that alright? Good.
So I got here, after eventually realising that my screaming and crying wasn't going to stop anyone (though that certainly didn't stop me from trying), and was most devastated about the fact that I had to go back to Kindergarten. For the uninformed, in Melbourne, Kindergarten is what you do before school; the Canberra equivalent of pre-school, while in Melbourne, Prep is what is here referred to as Kindergarten.
I was totes devo that I had to, in my young mind, go back a grade (even though I didn't really) and I didn't want to go to this stupid new school where I knew no-one, because in case you don't know me, I'm shades of socially awkward you've never even seen before.
So it was my first day in this new, undoubtedly terrible and evil educational institution, Campbell Primary School, and I was crying. I was doing the stereotypical thing and clinging fiercely to my mum's leg while sobbing and whining and complaining and bargaining and everything ever. EVER.
So then, I finally walk (see: got dragged) into my new Kindergarten classroom with Mrs Butler as my teacher and a group of confident 'we're halfway through the year here, and we already know everything about this darn school and you are just a silly, crying new kid' children.
I couldn't even look at them.
At least, I couldn't right up until the point when Mrs Butler asked
"Now, who would like to look after Adrienne for the day?" (I'm not going to lie, she probably didn't say exactly that. Cut me some slack, it was a large, large number of years ago and I was crying and my ears were full of Mum's jeans because my face was buried into her calf.)
At this, I looked up, and got to see nearly every person in the room put up their hand. Well, that's how I remember it anyway. So we'll roll with that.
It was so cool. I was this pathetic new kid who couldn't stop crying and begging her Mum to please please, not make her go, and couldn't they come back and try again another day, and all these kids wanted to chillax with the Age-meister. Yeah, bro.
The conclusion and underlying theme of this story is that while it took me a long, long while after that to actually learn to love Canberra for it's many, many flaws, this was the first step. Its first redeeming feature was a classroom of kids thinking it'd be pretty swell to be my friend.
I am aware I could be reading too much into their enthusiasm but I DON'T CARE. I'm live life on the edge.
Also, the underlying theme here is that if I sit down with nothing to write, eventually some shitty story will present itself, and that's what you'll have to suffer through.
P.S. probs no blog tomorrow, as I am awayyyyy, so maybe I'll just have to write an epic one for the 1st of May.
Peace out, homebodies.
Day 29 - A song from your childhood:
Ballroom Blitz by The Sweet