Stay The Course, or Cut And Run?

From the above title I can understand why you might think this post is about Iraq, or US policy in the Middle East, but remember that I’m living in Australia where every day is a slow news day and most Aussies could care less about Iraq even though Australian forces are stationed over there. No, I have my own battles to deal with that span the political, cultural, historical and socio-economic spectrum of life at 25 Albert St. Well, OK, not quite, but here is what happened, or is happening as it’s an ongoing story.

The other day I was the first to arrive home from work (of the people in the house that actually work) and went about my get-home routine, as you do. I find a note taped to the wall that basically says that Ella’s things from the kitchen that she bought are no longer able to be used by the rest of the house. I went into a state of shock (what had I done to deserve this?!) and then quickly realized that I knew this moment certainly had the potential to happen but didn’t think that is actually would. I am still not quite sure about the reasons behind this action. The note said it was “because of the talk with Pat” from the previous night. I didn’t hear much of the argument as I was not around but learned later from Pat that it was in regards to previous flatmate dramas. The TV also disappeared and we now entertain ourselves by giving performances out of the complete works of Shakespeare, or “The Importance of Being Ernest” or, we just play cards and drink beer. I’m pretty sure that the clothes pins for the line outside and the lighter we use to start the stove have also vanished. Haha, oh dear….could be a long couple weeks!

Well anyways I shot the others a quick txt letting them know what had happened and this is when the mood of the house went into Defcon 1. Our facilities were down to a few pans that I had bought for Thanksgiving, a knife, a potato masher, my camping cutlery, some Tupperware and a spatula. We were gonna do this MacGyver style! Thursday night was no problem as I had planned to wander off to the bar anyways to meet Adam and others. Friday night Pat and I ate à la carte: bacon and cheese rolls with extra cheddar and devon (Australian version of low-grade boloney) cooked in the microwave, and ate on, plastic Tupperware lids substituted as plates. Classy like Ron Burgundy! Saturday evening I ate out of a baking pan and a couple hours later, Pat showed up with plates, cups, cutlery et. al. Hero of the day.

One of the more positive outcomes of all this was that for Ella to separate her dishes from what “us three had contributed,” she had to actually wash her dishes. Bowls and pans used for baking a cake, trays and plates for pizza and all her other daily dishes had been piling up for over a week by this point! Well almost another week has gone by since then, and all of her dirty dishes and wine glasses have regrouped at, in or around the kitchen sink once again. The house has very much turned into a 3 vs. 1 type of mentality. Ella barely comes out of her room when the three of us are in the lounge; the house is just a little, hmm what’s the word, tense! In less than 3 weeks however, I will be off to surf camp, and then Tasmania. The lease on the house won’t be renewed and we will part ways. Some of us will be just fine. I don’t know what the other some of us will do – be in a fine mess I suppose.

Even with all of the house dramas I still carry on as normal, happy as can be. It’s summer, I’m almost done with work and I start travelling very soon. Plus, I’m having a pretty good time down here, even with the doings of one odd house mate. So I suppose I should somehow make a reference to the title of the post eh? My question is what does Ella hope to accomplish by taking away all of the kitchen things? Are we supposed to break down and realise now that we need her? Was she trying to bring us in line? In what line? Well, we won’t cut and run. We will stay the course, but I’m withdrawing troops on the 26th and going surfing.