Damn humans and their desire to wear animal carcass! Anyhow… We set traps each day for the furry rascals to monitor them – they’re all microchipped, so we can identify each one, take their measurements and a DNA sample. I’m collecting loads of data for my course!
I hope we’ll help make a difference. It’s hands-on research and fun and rewarding and… I’m going on about it, aren’t I? Ha ha. Forget me, tell me what’s going on in Lundun!
Off to go get some tucker (they actually say that here. I know, right?!) and bore some other poor soul with outback wallaby conservation tales.
Big love,
Sal
XX
Sal’s my cousin, twenty-three, sharp as hell but daft as a brush. Her boyfriend, Tino, is this super-cool surfer dude who rarely speaks, but that’s good, because Sal likes to talk. Likes to talk
a lot
. She’s the only constant friend I’ve had. The lucky bugger is on a year out in Australia, leaving me all alone here.
While I’m musing on what to reply, I get a notification. A new friend request. Not just any run-of-the-mill I-met-you-once-when-we-were-nine friend request, oh no, no, no; this is from Finn Masterson himself. Yikes. I’d better do a quick de-tag session of all the bad-angle photographs of me before I accept…
I do a bit of FB stalking on Finn’s page. Hit photos. Swoon at perfect lips and smooth jaw, gasp at red raw knees and elbows. WTF? Then it clicks. His status update reads:
Finn Masterson had a mother of a fall today. Wiped out three riders behind me! Ha!
So he
doesn’t
have an evil, scratchy cat.
I investigate further down his wall of updates.
Finn Masterson going for gold at the freestyle mountainboard battle in July. Better get training!
Finn Masterson nailed the alley-oop.
Finn Masterson On the track with Greggers.
I click PLAY on the video below and watch a dirt cloud plume into the air as Finn kicks a three-hundred-sixty–degree jump past a shaky lens. The board is long and tapered with heavy-duty wheels. I bet there’s some weird name for the trick, but what would I know?
Finn Masterson Switch 180 to late McTwist.
Finn Masterson I take my Burger Flip with fries. Mmm, chips … hard day boarding, time for some well-deserved grease.
I Google “McTwist”. It’s a real trick. Legs flip-flipping all over the place.
I tear my gaze from Finn’s page and pace the room, trying to construct a witty message to send him. My brain fires blanks.
Time to seek advice.
Dear Sheila – ahem – Sal,
Missing you like a leg. Mum is her usual one-woman cyclone system, raining devastation and tormenting the little people (me) with umbrella-breaking shitstorms at every opportunity. I try to take it on the chin but one only has so many umbrellas.
Your work sounds amazing. Post pictures stat. How many wallabies do you catch a day? Is the programme working? Have you seen any other cool wildlife? I saw a rat outside the local coffee shop. Gross. I almost hurled up my croissant.
Now, to business. School is OK, etc., etc., boring crap. Except … there’s this guy. He just friended me on Facebook. Aaaaaarrrggghhh!!! What do I do? I’m out of my depth.
Ah, forget it. I’ll admire him from afar. I feel like a dweeb. Yes, I used the word dweeb. So what are you going to do? Sue me for breaching the Use of Uncool Words Act? Go on, I dare ya.
Over and out,
CC
Thing is, I won’t hear back from Sal for hours yet…
I’m not exactly worried by Finn’s friend request, but I guess I’m thinking,
Am I cool enough, interesting enough? Does Finn think I’m something I’m not? What version of me do I want to be?
CHAPTER 10
Later I decide to go to the park to clear my head. I like to de-stress by doing gymnastics. I can float into a world where nothing exists but me and the move. Like escaping to a parallel universe where everything makes sense.
I’m just getting existential, thinking,
Who am I, anyway?
when my phone buzzes. New message from Sal. I Google the current time in
I hope we’ll help make a difference. It’s hands-on research and fun and rewarding and… I’m going on about it, aren’t I? Ha ha. Forget me, tell me what’s going on in Lundun!
Off to go get some tucker (they actually say that here. I know, right?!) and bore some other poor soul with outback wallaby conservation tales.
Big love,
Sal
XX
Sal’s my cousin, twenty-three, sharp as hell but daft as a brush. Her boyfriend, Tino, is this super-cool surfer dude who rarely speaks, but that’s good, because Sal likes to talk. Likes to talk
a lot
. She’s the only constant friend I’ve had. The lucky bugger is on a year out in Australia, leaving me all alone here.
While I’m musing on what to reply, I get a notification. A new friend request. Not just any run-of-the-mill I-met-you-once-when-we-were-nine friend request, oh no, no, no; this is from Finn Masterson himself. Yikes. I’d better do a quick de-tag session of all the bad-angle photographs of me before I accept…
I do a bit of FB stalking on Finn’s page. Hit photos. Swoon at perfect lips and smooth jaw, gasp at red raw knees and elbows. WTF? Then it clicks. His status update reads:
Finn Masterson had a mother of a fall today. Wiped out three riders behind me! Ha!
So he
doesn’t
have an evil, scratchy cat.
I investigate further down his wall of updates.
Finn Masterson going for gold at the freestyle mountainboard battle in July. Better get training!
Finn Masterson nailed the alley-oop.
Finn Masterson On the track with Greggers.
I click PLAY on the video below and watch a dirt cloud plume into the air as Finn kicks a three-hundred-sixty–degree jump past a shaky lens. The board is long and tapered with heavy-duty wheels. I bet there’s some weird name for the trick, but what would I know?
Finn Masterson Switch 180 to late McTwist.
Finn Masterson I take my Burger Flip with fries. Mmm, chips … hard day boarding, time for some well-deserved grease.
I Google “McTwist”. It’s a real trick. Legs flip-flipping all over the place.
I tear my gaze from Finn’s page and pace the room, trying to construct a witty message to send him. My brain fires blanks.
Time to seek advice.
Dear Sheila – ahem – Sal,
Missing you like a leg. Mum is her usual one-woman cyclone system, raining devastation and tormenting the little people (me) with umbrella-breaking shitstorms at every opportunity. I try to take it on the chin but one only has so many umbrellas.
Your work sounds amazing. Post pictures stat. How many wallabies do you catch a day? Is the programme working? Have you seen any other cool wildlife? I saw a rat outside the local coffee shop. Gross. I almost hurled up my croissant.
Now, to business. School is OK, etc., etc., boring crap. Except … there’s this guy. He just friended me on Facebook. Aaaaaarrrggghhh!!! What do I do? I’m out of my depth.
Ah, forget it. I’ll admire him from afar. I feel like a dweeb. Yes, I used the word dweeb. So what are you going to do? Sue me for breaching the Use of Uncool Words Act? Go on, I dare ya.
Over and out,
CC
Thing is, I won’t hear back from Sal for hours yet…
I’m not exactly worried by Finn’s friend request, but I guess I’m thinking,
Am I cool enough, interesting enough? Does Finn think I’m something I’m not? What version of me do I want to be?
CHAPTER 10
Later I decide to go to the park to clear my head. I like to de-stress by doing gymnastics. I can float into a world where nothing exists but me and the move. Like escaping to a parallel universe where everything makes sense.
I’m just getting existential, thinking,
Who am I, anyway?
when my phone buzzes. New message from Sal. I Google the current time in
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