As Bet had said “bushies in the big smoke” she’d nailed it on the head. Here I am in Adelaide, trying to look professional while failing to catch the right bus and on one instance fail to be on the right street to catch the bus. And on buses and trains that aren’t free I failed to properly wave my borrowed metrocard for my fare. I’d failed to wear the right shoes on my first day and almost a week later my feet are still paying for it. I was left unattended in the City on late-night shopping night and drained my bank account of about $170 in just over an hour (it could have been worse, much worse). At least the children in my life are now all sorted for Christmas presents and I have a few new clothes.
According to one fellow work experience girls’ facial expressions I’ve failed at being a work experience girl. She looked me up and down at how I was dressed (city chic with a Territory touch I reckon) and stuck up her nose at the fact that I didn’t bring a writing pad to jot down notes in a court session. And heaven forbid I’m only a first year law student yet I’d managed to get my foot in the door for work experience with not one but TWO chambers in Adelaide. Needless to say I actually haven’t done that much work. The poor dear had to eat said facial expressions on Friday because I was one of four work experience girls at a submissions hearing that didn’t bring a writing pad, she was the only one who had.
On Saturday I failed at bowling despite the talent I should have inherited from the Miller gene pool. I needed bumpers just so I would hit the pins. I failed at dressing up for Halloween. My “Pugsley” stripes were pathetic compared to the costumes of my Uncle, Aunty, cousins and niece whom I had never met despite the fact she is now 15. Her dad, my cousin, I hadn’t seen for 14 years and that was at my Great Nanna’s funeral.
Sunday saw me failing at appearing to have a conversation or eat. Having woken up to a cold didn’t help the situation. I got to meet my cousin Greg who I had not seen for 15 years and the last time was at his brothers’ funeral. My memories of him were so vague due to the briefness of my past interactions with him.
Despite all my failings I’m having a great time. I’m constantly gobsmacked at how appallingly people dress for court and their “classy choices” in neck tattoos. NB: If you, for whatever reason, are required to attend court, it’s not a good look to go in tracksuit pants and a Wu-Tang jumper which so many bogans’ do think appropriate to wear.
The one thing I hope I haven’t failed at is my exam that I sat on the Thursday. I’m looking forward to next week however and failing at other city things as I try as a bushie to cope in the big smoke.