Okay, I'll admit it. I enjoyed the episode of 'Ja'mie' last night, and am a big fan of Chris Lilley's work, although 'Angry Boys' didn't grab me. Sorry, Chris, but it didn't. I did not attend an elite private girls' school during those formative teenage years, but I think teenage girls are the same everywhere, ie, bloody awful. Ja'mie was kind of a hybrid of two rather full-on girls from my school, in my mind. Anyway, I went to a State school, and one of my memories of the alpha girl was the lurid tales she would tell me during Maths about the sexploits she and her then boyfriend got up to. It is little wonder I am so totally pants at Maths. Then one fine day she told me she and her boyfriend had gotten up to what is euphemistically referred to as 'rumpy-pumpy' on the gym mats in the sports equipment store room the previous evening. Not only had they engaged in illicit sex (she being underage), they had left not one, but TWO (count 'em - two!) condoms on the mats, and we HAD to find them. Yeah, WE. I had been recruited against my better judgement. Admittedly, my judgement was somewhat clouded because I had never seen a condom, used or otherwise, and was curious. So, during break, with another girl going 'cockatoo', we scrabbled about in the sports room (which was really only an oversized cupboard) looking for dirty condoms. I found a screwed up, yellowed thing and held it with the very tippy-tips of my finger and thumb nail, where it wavered precariously. 'Is this one of them?' I asked, my voice saturated with distaste and awe. She said it was, and located its mate. We then hid them under a rock and washed our hands, with the fervour of an OCD sufferer. Someone saw us, turned the rock over, and they were bright yellow contrast against the green grass. But that's another story.
Completed a course in mental health first aid today. Had to drive 1.5 hours to another town to complete my training, which was an employment requirement. Fascinating course. But now I'm tired. I'm tired and stressed out because my kitchen is a mess and the dishwasher needs fixing (this is going to be a simple task, but it's a matter of getting it done). My kids did a totally shit job last night, and my youngest is a nightmare when it's his turn to dry (as detailed in a previous post). I was playing trivia last night, and of course Mr Bingells' back is still in a state of fucked-up-ness. I came home tired, and a bit irked after having an argument with one of my team mates about Scott Morrison's spurious and offensive use of the term 'illegals' to describe asylums seekers. 'They ARE illegals!' insisted my team mate. 'They effing are not!' I disputed heatedly, 'it is NOT illegal to seek asylum!' He presented me with the chestnut of them not stopping at other countries en route to Australia. I snarled that unlike these other countries, Australia is a signatory to the UN convention on refugees. And I really wish I worked for the appropriate department so I could actively defy Scott Morrison's policy that the employees refer to these people as 'illegals'. I would love to shout loudly from my desk I will do no such thing. Morrison says to call 'a spade a spade'. Okay, applying that logic, I say that the Immigration Minister is a twit.
Learned lots today. I am not happy at the moment. I have come home and am feeling stressed and miserable out some things on the home front, so have poured wine, ie, 'self-medicated'.
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