13 Thoughts From And Things About My Final Week As A Teenager

1. It's also the first week back at university. If that isn't a sign that I should probably, you know, start being more mature, I don't know what is. But apparently some sarcastic deity is pissed off about me accidentally causing the death of Michael Jackson or something, and has decided that my mother needs to fight cancer. Again. You know what? I'm sick of being the nice (or, rather, "nice") guy who always winds up with nothing. The world has made The List.

2. Why are there now enough bread rolls in my kitchen to feed a small Central American country? Are we collecting for Haiti?

3. Fun: Being only a few kilometres away from the suburb with the most damage from the largest hailstorm in our region in a century and having our house not get damaged at all. Less fun: Being woken up at 4am the next morning by a damp-loving centipede (or whatever it is) trying to crawl up my nose.

4. Monkey!

5. So, the way the bus stop down the end of my street is set up, I can either sit on the seat and wait for the bus to eventually turn up (it's already fifteen minutes late), getting blinded by the sunlight, or I can avoid it by going shin-deep in the mud that's now behind the crappy advertisement board thingy? Oh, joy. After experiencing that, I am officially more deserving of a million dollars than Cassandra was in Survivor: Fiji.

6. I swear, the newbies at Deakin get hotter every year. It's like an armada of pretty people, and I'm single oversized flamer here to ruin the invasion. Speaking of, is there something about me that just screams "Cancel our non-date thing without telling me!" This past summer, it's gotten to the point I could reach Fat Elvis proportions, and nobody would ever know, because they wouldn't turn up to discover it.

7. Whose dumb idea was it to make a class on the very first day back -- a public holiday, to boot -- take an excursion into the city? Especially without organising a bus or something for people to be able to get there? And especially when the people who then wind up carpooling in cramped cars have to go down a street that's blocked off for the Moomba parade to get where they need to go? And with only three days notice?

8. I have Shaun Micallef's French version of the What's A Doodle Do? song from Talkin' 'Bout Your Generation stuck in my head. Le damn.

9. And here I thought Connex was incompetent. Turns out when it was railroaded out of town, the train wasn't only delayed like it would have been if they were in charge, it was cancelled. And so were the 578 after it. (In related news, "metrosexuals" have now changed their lame nickname of choice to "fauxmosexuals".)

10. Oooh! 21 Jump Street! Hey, remember when Johnny Depp wasn't a crazy nutbag in everything he did? Remember when Brad Pitt was able to guest star without it being a big deal for anyone except his own mother? Remember when Pauly Shore was still doing stuff? Yeah, me neither. Let's pretend to watch! Or we could watch something else instead, because my random Thomas Dekker lust knows no bounds. Aside from that little thing called the Pacific Ocean.

11. I should make a joke about having to watch the movie Peeping Tom in a lecture, but I like to work for the chance to make a joke (unlike, say, Eddie McGuire or Dave Hughes), so no dice.

12. It seems an appropriate tribute to my generation that my last day as a teenager was spent doing sweet fuckall.

13. I know it's only the first week back and we haven't organised our weekly Queer Beer thing yet, but I feel like I missed out on seeing a bunch of people. Sigh. So, you know, if you see me at uni, come say hi. It's not like I'll be using the time to do some actual classwork or anything.