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Beach and stuff
Feb. 12th, 2004 10:08 amWell, yesterday was fun. Morninglord and his housemates are staying down in Rockingham this week, so Jaseroque and my imoutochan and I went down to visit, and as a general excuse for a swim. Since it’s a good 40 minute drive we opted to leave changing until we got there.
Twenty minutes of mucking around later…
This is probably the point where I should supply some background information. See, in typical otaku fashion we pride ourselves on ignoring gender stereotypes; particularly those involving stuff relating to clothing, hair, and hours spent daily in front of the bathroom mirror. A couple of weeks ago, my sister and I realised we had five minutes until our bus was arriving, had barely started getting ready, and still managed to make it to the stop in time without any wild panicking taking place in the interim. True, we may hate mornings with a passion, but getting up and getting dressed are, to my mind at least, completely separate processes. In short, we are not, repeat, not people who take a long time getting changed.
Except, for some reason, today. Sure, we’d just heard some lovely stories about sunburn and are all generally careful with sunscreen and such (curse those foolish, white-skinned Europeans ancestors for settling in a country with the climate of Australia!), but it’s not like swimming togs are particularly troublesome as clothing goes, and we didn’t waste much time chatting… And just to emphasize how long it took, all three of our hosts are male, and had been waiting for us at the beach the whole time.
We eventually trooped down, only slightly sheepish, loudly bemoaning the fact we’d never felt so female.
Maybe this is why we only go swimming a couple of times a year.
Well, it was all worth it, the water was lovely, probably too calm if anything; and the jellyfish were nice enough to leave (most) of us alone. By weird co-incidence it turned out Jaseroque and imouto had spent a holiday in the same campsite back in early primary school. Tales of dead rats and overturned playground equipment abounded.
On an utterly random note, damn it’s nice to be living with someone else of a creative mindset again. Sure, she’s an artist and I’m a writer, but there’s still some sort of basic common ground regardless, and there’s a definite novelty value to being able to run into a family member in the hallway around 1 am (by which stage, normally, we’d both be in bed), loudly declare "Inspiration is evil! It always strikes after midnight!" and have said family member understand exactly what you’re talking about.
Other than that though, It’s really hard to believe she’s been away nearly a year. Doesn’t feel like she was ever gone.
Twenty minutes of mucking around later…
This is probably the point where I should supply some background information. See, in typical otaku fashion we pride ourselves on ignoring gender stereotypes; particularly those involving stuff relating to clothing, hair, and hours spent daily in front of the bathroom mirror. A couple of weeks ago, my sister and I realised we had five minutes until our bus was arriving, had barely started getting ready, and still managed to make it to the stop in time without any wild panicking taking place in the interim. True, we may hate mornings with a passion, but getting up and getting dressed are, to my mind at least, completely separate processes. In short, we are not, repeat, not people who take a long time getting changed.
Except, for some reason, today. Sure, we’d just heard some lovely stories about sunburn and are all generally careful with sunscreen and such (curse those foolish, white-skinned Europeans ancestors for settling in a country with the climate of Australia!), but it’s not like swimming togs are particularly troublesome as clothing goes, and we didn’t waste much time chatting… And just to emphasize how long it took, all three of our hosts are male, and had been waiting for us at the beach the whole time.
We eventually trooped down, only slightly sheepish, loudly bemoaning the fact we’d never felt so female.
Maybe this is why we only go swimming a couple of times a year.
Well, it was all worth it, the water was lovely, probably too calm if anything; and the jellyfish were nice enough to leave (most) of us alone. By weird co-incidence it turned out Jaseroque and imouto had spent a holiday in the same campsite back in early primary school. Tales of dead rats and overturned playground equipment abounded.
On an utterly random note, damn it’s nice to be living with someone else of a creative mindset again. Sure, she’s an artist and I’m a writer, but there’s still some sort of basic common ground regardless, and there’s a definite novelty value to being able to run into a family member in the hallway around 1 am (by which stage, normally, we’d both be in bed), loudly declare "Inspiration is evil! It always strikes after midnight!" and have said family member understand exactly what you’re talking about.
Other than that though, It’s really hard to believe she’s been away nearly a year. Doesn’t feel like she was ever gone.