97 leavers.

Ah, the ten year school reunion. I think that I'm quite glad that I'm living in Japan, and that I don't have to make the choice between going and pretending I'm fabulous or not going and making sure that people know that I'm being fabulous else where.

So, my unavoidable absence therefore by proxy means that I am Elsewhere Being Fabulous, thus I do not have to defend my position of how much I am winning at life. Marvellous. Break out the Veuve, it's a definite step up from the days of Passion Pop, and as a graduate from such a prestigious school, one does not pay 5 dollars for a certified #1 hangover anymore.

Trying to write a blurb about what I've been doing for the past ten years was much more difficult than I anticipated. Problem number one being that I couldn't crap on and on as is my wont to do, and that my definitions of winning at life are likely to be different to most of the girls I went to school with (and that's ok, really).

Provided below, for your reading pleasure and amusement is the paragraph of trite that quite nicely sums up the past decade.

The last ten years have flown by. I've done the usual go to Uni, get said degree (Bachelor of Science, Environmental Science, Murdoch Uni.), get perfect job at the Agriculture Department, ditch perfect job and go travelling. I've worked a myriad of jobs, but find myself constantly coming back to hospitality. One of the few permanents in my life is that I have a regular hairdresser. I've learnt how to drink Scotch on the rocks and enjoy it. I've been living in Japan for the past 2 1/2 years, teaching English at a public high school, just outside of Kobe. I have no idea what comes next, but if the last ten years are anything to go by, it's going to be nothing like I imagine.

Interesting things, these reunions. Especially when they've got a facebook group attached. Maybe I'll make it to the 20-yr one.

The Card Society.

In the day and age of the uber-fast instant messaging, right here rightnow communications world, I still find something like these cards infinitely appealing. I love the idea of receiving handmade cards that are all wrapped in a pretty parcel for me to then send on to somewhere else in the world. I may then actually be enticed to tear myself away from email and my bad habit of using Bridget Jones-esque sentences and start writing real letters.

And on that note (bang bang), while I'm being old-fashioned and cantankerous, I've recently redeveloped my hatred of the word 'ya', as in 'how are ya?'. It doesn't imply casualness, or a greater sense of Australian identity and it annoys me intensely that it's apparently too hard to write one extra letter. So, be warned, in future, should you ever refer to me as 'ya', you'll get some snarky reply that will be written in god-awful internet code that will be completely indecipherable.

Or maybe, I'll have a change of heart and send you a gently guiding message of perfect grammar and spelling on real paper with a stamp.