There is a legitimate website which outlines The History of Schoolies. It defines Schoolies Week as a cultural rite of passage. It is the type of website which I would have loved to have referenced in a bibliography at school because of the lovely ".org" tacked onto the end of the URL. Fortunately, bibliographies are basically irrelevant to my life and a thing of the past (well until Uni commences in February).
People who know me, even vaguely (let's face it that is a majority of my audience) understand that I uphold a merry disposition whilst loathing humanity. "I hate all people. Some just have more love-able traits than others" (My Marvelous Self, 2012). If this is the first thing you have heard about me, it is probably a fantastic place to commence our relationship. Now that you understand my outlook on life, it will come as no shock to you that in approaching my Schoolies experience, the Gold Coast was not top of my list of desirable destinations. To me the Gold Coast is a hybrid of Las Vegas and Logan and somewhat epitomises a low point in humanity. To put it simply, I chose to spend "the best week of my life" at Noosa.
The entire week created the magnificent allusion that in the real world it is acceptable to be an alcoholic and throw around racial slurs more frequently than I shower. Upon reflection I can see the week encouraged me to embrace the accepting nature of our Australian culture whilst experiencing leaps of regression in the intelligence of my friends/ acquaintances/ associates. Maybe it was a little bit of fate, or perhaps it is more evidence of my over indulgence in all Orwell's literature; but the irony in the numbering of room 101 was almost too much for me to handle.
|A bizarre, pointless yet totally relevant photo|