Things work differently down here. I understand that professors prefer to be called by their first name (hence, Phillip-- I'd never want to be called Mr. Finley either or, god forbid, Doctor) but I learned today that it's acceptable to go out in public and consume beverages of an alcohol nature with your students, which is how I found myself tonight embroiled in a long conversation with my mentor, his wife, two folks from class and a PhD student over a pitcher of sangria.
It began with the book launch of Carol LeFevre's first novel put on by Random House Australia. Martina and I caught a taxi there and proceeded to consume copious amounts of free wine (thanks, Random House!) and receive the good karma of participating in the official launching of a fellow UA student's first novel. I had several ludicrous conversations with local poets, professors in my department, and Masters students (both current and past), followed by a long, surreal dinner at one of the Mexican restaurants on Melbourne Street (the prawn taquitos were excellent).
What this means in practical terms is that the evening I'd envisioned as a perfect opportunity to finish The Old Cartoon Writer was mostly occupied by other events, which also scored me an invitation to a writing seminar tomorrow afternoon featuring some American writer I've never heard of, followed by a department trip to The Exeter (a bar, surprise!) and then back home to participate in my housemate Rachel's birthday celebration. Before that, a trip simply must be made to Booze Brothers to ensure I have enough wine for a productive weekend.
Life here certainly is stressful, hey?
Drink Count: 5
How cute is this? (Excepting the elephant's one leg that looks like a massive penis. I've got some wicked envy over here.)
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