Tonight I went to an open mic poetry night - and actually enjoyed it. Perhaps I should qualify that. I enjoyed the first hour or two, with music and 'established' poets (as in, they have poems in zines in grimy Brunwick Street book shops) doing their thing. In fact, I enjoyed it up until the exact point at which the mic became 'open'. It then turned - well, you know the stereotypes, you've seen The Monkey's Mask, you can imagine. I only hope that the last few people I listened to were on drugs.
I find that taking part for the first time in cultural experiences like this - ones that I've only ever seen before in movies and video clips and on TV - gives me the giggles; I can't help but laugh and be a bit self-conscious about the whole thing. I had a similar experience at a friend's house a few weeks back, when I had my first go at spinning discs, scratching, cross-fading, blah blah blah - I think 'DJing' would be the term I'm after. I've seen so many DJs in clubs, film clips, dodgy juice commercials, that I couldn't help but feel like I was - I don't know - a Japanese businessman playing air guitar or something. Cultural cliches. Like an awkward year six or year eight having their first cigarette or glass of vodka while out with friends at their first rock concert. (I might just note that I write 'glass' and not 'shot' of vodka, mainly because when I was in year nine and drinking in parks, like all proper private school students in Melbourne do, we drank it by the glass - followed by Jim Beam, Passion Pops and a vomit in the bushes. Or many vomits - but it was always by the glass, sometimes with raspberry lemonade.)
Aside from this, I'm back at uni, which means I'm also back in the sunshine, with people, with some structure in my life. That being said, I somehow slept through my alarm, three messages coming through on my phone and a whole day of lectures yesterday, so I'm not sure how much I like the new leaf that I allegedly turned over on the holidays. In any case, you'll be hearing more from me soon.