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Looking back over my life, any time my composure would slightly crack, my darling father would always say, in the most condescending tone he could muster, "stroppy little shit, aren't we" or more inexplicably "getting stroppolous, hey?". Surprisingly, I cannot recall one occasion on which this had the effect of improving my demeanor. This annecdote, I'm sure for some of you, provides the extra insight of partially explaining my affinity for foul language and my distaste for the defacement of the Queen's English (what in hell is 'stroppolous'?).

This said, it is probably just as well Father was not at Calgary after security sent me back to baggage check to check my duty free gin, and then my flight was delayed half an hour, which all came after 4 hours sleep the night before. Under the circumstances, rather than chuck a wobbler, I opted to take a nap. This was probably just as well, as the lady sitting next to me, Sandy, was lovely and we had a nice chat all the way to Winnipeg, once I had woken up a calm individual.

The house I am staying at is a lovely 2 storey affair with many nice wooden fixtures and heaps of charm. I'm looking after 2 cats who are well behaved and have heaps of personality (and aren't evil). Sadly I cannot yet get the internet there so photos will have to be posted later. I'm using free internet at the University of Winnipeg; all very socialist. In fact, as I look up I see a hammer and sickle sculpture on the other side of the library. Between that, and the snow, and the silly hat I'm wearing again, this is eerily reminiscent of Russia. However, unlike Russia, liquor stores here are apparently almost exclusively a state enterprise.

Owing to said snow, the thermal underwear has returned, including the silly tights. If I may wax lyrical, the below freezing air is pleasant like a kiss. What is less pleasant is having shaved most of my facial hair off 2 weeks before coming here. Not so pleasant at all. However, just as in other frozen places I've been, most all the men here are clean shaven. Strange.

One last thing, if you leave comments (and *please* do), it would be great if you could all type your names at the end.

'Til later,
P

Comments

( 5 comments — Leave a comment )
docmatrix
Jan. 7th, 2007 09:31 am (UTC)
On throwing wobblies...
I recall one time you threw a wobbly. It was during one of the evening camps during a few day bike hike we went on. The fellow you had organised the entire event with had apparently turned a little Green (oh, do you see what I did there?) and had decided not to further participate in the cycling aspect of the adventure, but would continue au motorale.

Upon finding this would not affect his attainment of accreditation, and deciding this was particularly unjust you grabbed the stiffest drink within your grasp. This stuff was to be a bottle of condensed orange cordial, which you didn't give you any pause, and without hesitation you threw off the lid and downed several glugs of the syrupy fluid. It is about this point where the memory fades, and I can't account for what -that- ended up doing for your demeanor the rest of that evening!

Ahhh memories. Good to hear you had a bit stronger reign of your faculties in this instance!

I yearn for your frozen environment. Melbourne has been particularly hot for what seems like far too long.

- James



paulfraser
Jan. 7th, 2007 11:10 pm (UTC)
Re: On throwing wobblies...
Ah, I'd forgotten all about that. I wonder what Pete is up to these days. Last I heard he was a bank manager in Warnumbool (or however you spell it), but he could never sit still for long. If ever there was a person to inspire a wobbly it was him.

The freezing weather is indeed beautiful. My northern European bones sit contentedly in it.

BTW cheers for putting your name, but I kinda can tell you and Alan because you both have livejournal accounts.
(Anonymous)
Jan. 8th, 2007 02:37 am (UTC)
Defacement of the Queen's English
Anecdote. One "n".

*smug*

-Jodie ;)
(Anonymous)
Jan. 8th, 2007 02:46 am (UTC)
In all seriousness
I'm glad you're having a good time. Did you know, by the way, that "strop" is an actual word? It was the leather strap upon which the old-timers polished their razors.

[/nerd]

-Jodie x
docmatrix
Jan. 8th, 2007 10:58 am (UTC)
Re: In all seriousness
Indeed, their cutthroat razors!

( 5 comments — Leave a comment )

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