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What Did the Arts Grad Say to the Business Grad?
December 20, 2003, 3:12 p.m. I’m off work today because my left hip is playing up. God, I am such an old woman. It hurts to put weight on it, and bend my knee, so walking up and down stairs (and ladders!) is a somewhat slow process if done correctly, painful if done incorrectly. But tonight, I will go out and see Love Actually, and wear my sexy new pants (which I bought for $15!). They’re brown and three-quarter length, and everyone keeps telling me they’ll make me look shorter than I am, but I think they look snazzy. Nyah. What’s wrong with looking short, anyway? I am short, and I like it. The Brat got her UAI back yesterday. She sort of wandered into the kitchen, with a bewildered look upon her face. She said she’d gotten it, in a sort of confused voice, and I asked her what it was. In the same tone, she told me she didn’t know how it had happened, why it was what it was (and my heart started to sink, and I thought for a dreadful moment she’d been scaled down), but it was 99.25. Ninety-nine point two-five! Can you freaking believe it?! She could get into practically any Media and Communications degree in the country! I’m so proud of her, she put in so much work. If I had been that dedicated, I would have gotten something similar, no doubt. Of course, she did end up making a couple of snide comments about the fact that I got 87 for my UAI, but she always does that. I didn’t need to knock myself out to get into an Arts degree, even one at Sydney, our most ‘prestigious’ sandstone university, so I didn’t bother. The Brat was all “but this is your one chance to prove yourself,” but I guess it I just don’t have those kinds of priorities. I know my own worth, and it can’t be measured by a number. Anyway. That was a bit of self-serving rubbish, wasn’t it? I can’t wait till my dad goes back to work. At the moment, he’s on holidays, and so he can drink all he wants. He gets wasted pretty much every night. Last night, spectacularly so. Ranting and raving and shaving. Yes, my dad shaves when he’s pissed. He has this nifty portable electric shaver, for his head (his hairline is somewhere around the back of his head, so he just shaves it all off for convenience), which he seems to use all over his body. I’ve never seen a heterosexual man past puberty with legs that smooth. Don’t ask me why he does it, I don’t know.
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