i can haz internets

Right now I can barely move for the excitement of finally having an internet connection. It took me two hours on the phone this afternoon with an Optus troubleshooter in India who gave me some good advice for my cold as well as fixing the connection issue, so I feel I have earned it. Also, can someone tell me why I paid so much for such a terrible connection last time? I just downloaded the latest episode of This American Life (do yourself a favour, folks - best podcast around). With my Unwired connection this took about 10 minutes. New ADSL2+ connection? Less than a minute. How did I manage?!

Anyway, I'll get over it soon, on to more substantive matters... As of yesterday my week-and-a-bit at the boys school turned into four. The poor man with the nasty divorce isn't going to make it back before term 2. It's a big relief to have work lined up until the end of term, although I was quite looking forward to bidding farewell to some of the more charming boys in my year 10 class. Speaking of charming, the prayer with which they start the lesson asks for the ability to express themselves with "thoroughness and charm." I've regularly had to restrain myself from encouraging them to pray harder for charm.

The headmaster visited all of my classes today with a letter for parents explaining that I'll be taking over the classes until the end of term and generally placating them for the disruption. He took the opportunity to explain to my students that I am well credentialed with a degree from a sandstone university, "and a Masters, mind you, which you can't even get as a teaching qualification in Western Australia." Cultural cringe, or what? Anyway, their need for prestige is working for me right now.

As it is there are other advantages to this situation (remember again, the phone is just not ringing with other offers): I walk about 20 minutes to work in the morning - leaving home just after 8. Bloody luxury. The last section of my walk goes past the back of Fremantle Prison. It's surrounded by a fantastically thick limestone wall. And I always get a kick out of the fact that there is now a children's literature centre there. No kids that's not the key to learning...

The story of Mega Monday

On Mega Monday I started a week’s work at a school 20 minutes walk away (and had to turn down a call in from another school –typical!), came home to accept delivery of one beloved Pusscat, and then saw Pavement play live.

I got the call with the offer of work while we were moving into the house on Saturday. I was watching the removalists carry the couch in when the phone rang. I got desperate late last week and contacted a few private schools in the area. I say ‘desperate’ because my heart is in the public system, but hey, the phone’s not ringing. Anyway, it turned out to be exceptional timing as it’s fantastic to get a whole week to start off with. The school is a Catholic boy’s college (in the Edmund Rice tradition, meaning that school literature explicitly discusses issues of social justice and poverty, which I dig). Despite having never taught at a Catholic school or participated in Catholicism in any way, this is proving less difficult to adjust to than expected. Every lesson starts with the boys saying a prayer and I’m managing now at the end of day three not to feel completely awkward about it. Quite awkward, but not completely.

I had a particularly surreal moment yesterday afternoon at work. It suddenly struck me – I am living in Western Australia and I am taking a bunch of Catholic school boys to the Basilica for reconciliation (not a right-on social justice issue as it turns out, but confession). How did this happen?!  I then spent the next hour silently keeping them silent while they waited their turn to see the priest. Luckily my secret weapon is an icy cold stare that can frighten a grown man, let alone a giggling 13 year old.

The Pavement gig was loads of fun, despite Steve Malkmus’ obvious vocal difficulties. They are essentially touring a ‘best of ‘album so the set list was incredible, and not a little like the ‘my heart is made of gravy’ mixed tape that my personal music guru made for me years and years ago. I did feel a little offended on their behalf that it didn’t sell out. We caught the train up to the city with loads of large men heading to the ACDC concert. The whole train stunk of booze and cigarettes and rousing Aussie-as accents filled the air. Suddenly the Fella’s checked shirt looked less alt-country, more flanno.

So, the house is just lovely. Actually just having a house is lovely. I caught myself gazing at our stuff with disproportionate affection as we unpacked. I didn’t realise how grounding it is to have familiar things around you. We are loving the fact that our lounge room is large enough that we cantake 7 or 8 steps and still be in the loungeroom. I love cooking with gas again (not a metaphor). I also love these gorgeous bathroom cabinets, and the stained glass windows in the kitchen. And the hallway that’s half the width of a Newtown bedroom.

As for the Pusscat, she was delivered from the airport on Monday afternoon, looking a bit plane-shocked and wary. She knew who I was straight away (phew) and I got a purr out of her within 15 minutes. What a trooper. She has been exploring thoroughly with lots of sniffing and squeezing under things. She loves standing up in the fireplaces and follows us up and down the hallway like a puppy. At this rate she’ll be back to normal in a few days I think. I am, predictably, delighted.

Southside

Last weekend was a long one here in WA with Labour Day on Monday (at my count they have one more public holiday than NSW – they have Foundation Day when we have Queen’s  Birthday and Queen’s Birthday when we have Labour Day – c-razy!) Of course, when you are unemployed (or between jobs, as the Fella prefers me to call it) public holidays tend to lose meaning ‘cause you know it’s just another day off without pay.  But weekends mean adventures with the Fella, so that is much preferable to weekdays. We packed a lot in to our long weekend. Highlights include refreshing beach swims, reading the paper in the park, an excellent session at the Writers Festival with David Finkel about his book The Good Soldiers, our first step into the world of yum cha in Northbridge (thumbs up there too), and the discovery of a North Fremantle burger joint which sells the best burgers we have ever eaten (no exaggeration) next door to a cute bar which lets you BYO burgers (yay!)

 

But perhaps the most exciting event was the discovery of an IGA supermarket in South Fremantle which is open until 8pm on weekends. “It’s like living in a real place!” I exclaimed without a hint of irony. This occurred after realising the previous weekend that Coles and Woolworths close at 5pm. I said, 5! This is to the distinct disadvantage of people like me who decide what to cook and shop for ingredients in the hour or so before eating dinner. And also caused me to mutter very uncharitable things about WA’s  attachment to archaic Sunday trading laws.

I went to a Greens meeting last week and met some lovely folk (including three other English teachers – typical) and spent a few afternoons volunteering in the office of MLC Lynn MacLaren. A good way to get out of the house and feel a little useful.

Our current temporary abode is in North Fremantle. We spent last week in South Fremantle, discovering its delights – just down the road from our new house. Turns out it’s a great area with some very important features: a second-hand bookshop, art gallery, Vietnamese restaurant, pubs, tea house, patisserie, yoga centre, wholefoods cafe, and a beautiful beach with a shady park and cafe. Isn't that list a shameless revelation of my priorities! Not to mention these spontaneous explosions of sunflowers everywhere. 

My final piece of news is that we finally have a moving date confirmed – this Saturday. Hurrah! We are incredibly excited at the prospect of being in our own place with our own stuff. Oh, glorious stuff! The Pusscat will join us shortly after (fingers crossed for a minimum of plane-induced trauma), at which point I will attempt not to smother her.