It's the last hour before Winter in Melbourne and there's nothing much afoot other than the first of the term-end assignments are due tomorrow. Ron and I have been slaving away in the library for the past two days working on it. Well mostly working on it, if you disregard the fact that we generally turn up late and then spend some time looking for an empty spot. Which was virtually impossible.

So we decided to be a little innovative and dragged a table to a free powerpoint. We ended up blocking the end of one of the aisles, but hell, I guess if they can't walk around us they can backtrack or skip an aisle or something.

It's kinda easier to get work done in the library, where there seems to be less distractions. Plus there's someone to bounce ideas off in person, rather than dodgy MSN.

Janice asked Ron to pass me a piece of cake the first day.

She's been baking since school term ended/apparently, oblivious to the coming exams. Anyway, I reckon it looks more like a cupcake than an actual cake. Tastes like one too. Cloyingly sweet.

The type of thing little kids love. Ron's going to get diabetes one day soon if he isn't careful haha.

Oh and the Indians had some riot down at Flinders Street today. Clogged up the intersection and stuff. Not good news for Australia, especially after the Trujillo racist remarks fiasco. Apparently, they're protesting after two Indian students got stabbed in seperate incidents lately.

I don't quite get it. The Indian government is supposedly concerned too. But it's just two people getting stabbed. Not that I'm saying it's not a terrible thing, but what's racist about it? How many Caucasians and other Asians get stabbed in Australia? If you're talking about getting rid of racism, why even bring it up? It's okay as long as it's other races getting stabbed? Probably not what they were trying to bring across with the protests that later turned ugly, but you have to wonder.

In a perfect world, the message that would be emphasized to the State Government wouldn't be "Stop those racist gangster pricks stabbing us Indian students" but rather "Stop all stabbing incidents. Get dangerous weapon off our streets and crack down on unruly louts."

Do you see the difference?

Most classes at University were cancelled yesterday due to the union calling a state wide strike at Victorian universities to ask for better working conditions. Something you don't see every day I'm sure. Your lecturers and tutors setting up picket lines at the entrances and trying to stop you from entering the premises.

But of course there were some exceptions from those who were not part of the Union. My Social Relations class was cancelled and then resurrected on the staircase landing in an impromptu session. The picket lines were easily breached by some brave souls but others were left to find alternative ways in besides the woefully undermanned pickets. I reckon some lecturers chose to stay home in a warm bed rather then stand out in the cold with flags and signs.


So why did my class go on? Well besides the fact that he wasn't a part of the Union (though he supports what they're doing), he's a Singaporean undergraduate. Never underestimate the kiasu attitude lol. You know, I reckon if they tried something like this back home, they'd probably all get shot by the MOE.

So the pickets were there the whole morning till they moved to the front of the State Library at 1pm. For once, there was a half decent rally at the venue. For once, the speakers were all very well spoken (well what did you expect). For once, someone climbed the statue and planted a flag. After weeks of hearing half hearted protests from Burmese monks and Sri Lankan immigrants and what have you, this was a properly planned rally.

Then again, that's all there was. There wasn't any media coverage and the newspapers today didn't even mention it. Makes you wonder if all the fuss was worth it, when even the Zombie Shuffle got a mention in the papers.

So after the makeshift lesson (one tutor, five students), I headed off to lunch at Dessert Placewith Ron, Li Shun and Lynette, where we basically crapped about fitness first, abs of steel, malaysians vs singaporeans, assignments, french toast and cookies. Fun times eh.

One more week of classes to go.

If you've ever got a spare 20 bucks and want to find somewhere to eat, you'd do well to skip the buffet at Crown.

Was Timothy's birthday today (after Melissa had broken the news the day before) and we were going out to celebrate. After considering Sofia's at Camberwell, he'd decided the number of people turning out didn't warrant the trip out of the city, so Crown it was.

After a day spent considering what to get him for a present, I made a mad dash to Reader's Feast after Philosophy. Made it with 10 minutes to go and got him the only copy of Nick Hornby's Fever Pitch. Why that particular book? Well, because this silly Man U fan had been taunting me for the past week hehe.

Bought a daily metcard at the 7 Eleven and then met up to take a tram to Flinders, and then a walk down the Yarra to Crown where we were met with a huge bunch of his friends who filtered in one after another. Singaporeans, Malaysians, Indonesians. A huge eclectic bunch that seemed to know one another pretty well.

The food though left much to be desired. There was plenty of choice of course, but I think they added MSG to much of it. I was drinking glass after glass of ice water and was full in no time at all. And oh drinks other than water were not included in the buffet price. Sneaky eh?

Anyway, Tim's face got a bit red after a few flutes of champagne, but then again you don't turn 21 everyday do you? I remember mine, cradling my M16 on top of a tower somewhere in Singapore ;)

You know something is up when your mum asks you if there are any shopping promotions going on in Melbourne, as she mine did a few days ago.

"What for, mum?"

It was a not so subtle hint that Mother's Day was upon us.

"I'm not sure if they celebrate it over there..."

As I assured her that yes, last I checked, Mother's Day was a western concept, and no I hadn't noticed any unusual promotions, besides the cohortations to just buy your mother a gift card to splurge at some warehouse on TV.

Well whether it's breakfast in bed for your mum, or a card, or a surprise trip to a swanky restaurant, do make her feel appreciated! And remember, you could always do worse.

What's there to detract from boring assignments and tedious deadlines? Well what about raving zombie hoards?

Yepp, you heard that right. I was alerted by unearthly growls and moaning from downstairs. "Brains... Brains... Gwaarrrh!"

Turns out it's the Melbourne Zombie Shuffle 2009, and the zombie hoards are moving down Swanston Street. Figures a zombie walk would have something to do with Social Relations wouldn't it? I mean, organized public gathering in an urban centre? Go figure.

Anyway, I grabbed a camera and was down on the street within minutes. Braving the deathless stares and blood flecked teeth, I was soon amongst their midst and snapping away.

And in case you're wondering, no I didn't get bitten. There's already the swine flu epidemic to worry about other than contagious zombie rabies or whatever they're spreading.

Here's a few shots for those of you who weren't there.

Zombies petition labour for equal rights.

Think we might get a better view up here, Fred?

It's just a bad hair day, I swear!

Figures even zombies have to wait for the lights...

It's not everyday that you hear bagpipes playing Waltzing Matilda in the street below. Which is exactly what's happening at the moment. The past two weeks have passed in a mad blur, reeling and punch-drunk. The weekend's probably a good time to catch your breath as you prepare for more assaults in the coming week. Anyway, what's new?

A piece I did on Popmundo... Real life's gonna be that much harder.

The flickering pink neon sign of Club 74 creaks as the wind picks up, then dies down again. The lone bouncer at the back entrance pulls his coat tighter around his ample girth.

Everyone's entering by the front, but occasionally someone wanders by.

Get past the bouncer and step in through the door, and you're soon lost in the maze of passages that run backstage.

In a dingy dressing room, looking very much at odds with the fittings, is Audrey Page, all 5 feet 6 of her.

She’s far from home and her children, and it’s almost Christmas.

Technicians and backup singers rush past the open door, but no one gives her a second look.

Why should they? They know her simply as Audacity.

We’re in downtown Berlin and in these parts, everyone has a story, so few stop to listen. No one is here by choice, most can’t wait to leave.

Audrey was married once, to a 20 stone bruiser by the name of Harley. The attraction died two weeks after the ceremony. She stayed for 7 more years.

Then one night, she’d had enough.

Enough of his whoring and boozing ways. Enough of his indifferent attitude and abusive behaviour. Enough of all that crap.

She packed her eight kids into the truck and drove off into the night. Turned on to the freeway and just drove on and on. Never stopped, never looked back. Till they ran out of gas. Then they hitchhiked.

It’s been more than 3 years to the day. Now she fights hard to make a living. For her kids, for herself.

Backstage, she’s Audrey who puts on a brave front and misses her children.

But when the lights come on and the bass kicks in, she’s Audacity, all 5 foot 6 of punk ‘tude.