Yesterday.

Eastwood, 34.
Sydney University, 34.
University Oval No.1, Camperdown.

With seconds to go, my Woodies had a three-point lead. But a penalty after the full-time whistle levelled the scores. Gah! Uni's lineouts REALLY SUCKED, which was good for us; it was the lineouts that killed Eastwood in the Toohey's New Cup final last year. And the new Woodies scrumhalf is HOT. I was too busy salivating to find out his name, though. Probably just as well.

My bestmate Sarge and I tottled down to uni for the Shute Shield Woods-Uni game yesterday, the first clash between the two for the year. Seeing my Woods and my Uni play each other is a twice-yearly event that I never miss - or at least I try not to. And regardless of the result, of course, I'll still wear my Eastwood jersey on the Monday following.

We also went to see Kokoda at the George Street cinnies. I cried. How embarrassing. See, there was an old man sitting a seat away from me; for all I knew, he may or may not been a war veteran. But just before the closing credits rolled, he dabbed his eyes and blew his nose. And that's when I lost it. (I wasn't uncontrollably weeping, mind you. Quite restrained.)


Listening to:
Title: Light My Candle
Artist: Adam Pascal (as Roger Davis) and Rosario Dawson (as Mimi Marquez)
Album/station: Rent: Selections from the Original Motion Picture Soundtrack (2006)
Length: 4.10

Teaching science, part deux.

Commenting on Teaching science, Matthew said:

While the physical sciences do not exist in a vacuum (I need help considering I instantly thought of the lack of air resistance in most experiments) the syllabus has removed a large amount of basic scientific content in order to introduce social aspects, which for the most part are irrelevant, such as Plancks and Einsteins differing views..., while being able to argue that is an important concept students aren't asked to argue it, they are told to discuss the viewpoints that two scientists had, one of which is probably the most well known and admired cousin marrying scientist around, it isn't impartial, it doesn't encourage critical thought on the subject but just more rote learning by those who are not interested and are just doing the physical sciences to get into law like their mummy and daddy wants them to.

I do agree with Matthew that, unfortunately, large tracts of purely scientific content has been downgraded in importance or removed altogether from the HSC science syllabuses. A finite period of time in which to teach the preliminary and HSC courses has meant to some things have had to suffer with the introduction of new content. That absence or diminshed focus has hurt, and is hurting, students with aspirations to higher education in the sciences by inadequately preparing them for tertiary study. Science education in secondary schools may have, in the past, been a means to getting students into university science courses, but I think there is a broader role for science education. Instead of focusing solely on those with science ability and prospects of going onto a science degree, there is a larger purpose to better educate greater society, albeit with a more generalised knowledge.

However, I wouldn't call the social aspects introduced into the course as irrelevant. Matthew's example of Planck versus Einstein with regards to the politicisation of science is, in my opinion, a valid issue for discussion in a year twelve physics class. Context is important in any study of history, and like the rest of human endeavour, science has a history. Granted, an understanding of the sociopolitical contexts that science develops within doesn't lead directly to encouraging critical thought, but surely it provides a basis for which critical thought can be developed. Rote learning, indeed, is a major obstacle to education and is the antithesis of deep-learning and critical thinking. In the next curriculum cycle, attention will need to be paid to that issue. Ideologically, however, I think we've only just started shifting that paradigm of education as the transmission of prescribed meaning.

Also it can quite easily be argued that the syllabus has been largely dumbed down by the introduction of simplified processes that are passed as factual or at least the current scientific understanding of a phenomenon, such as the Meissner effect which is discussed as an application of Lenz's law which fails to mention in the syllabus or requires to know in the syllabus that the Meissner effect will occur without a change in the relative velocity of the magnet and conductor because a penetrating magnetic field of a superconductor will decay on its own.

While various aspects can be taught using simplified models, indeed simplified models are required in nearly all aspects of education, teaching students wrong ideas about how stuff works (not knowing exactly how things works is better then thinking it works in a different way) is I believe detrimental especially when it isn't the current prevailing theory. But of course I do believe the fun of starting every sentence "A can be treated as B" or "A is currently thought to be caused by B".

It's a principle in constructivist education theories that students are best assisted in their construction of meaning and knowledge by means of scaffolding. Sure, simplified models may be giving students ideas which are slightly wrong about how things work to begin with, but at each stage of school education, those simplified models are refined and made more sophisticated (and more 'correct') as students develop their knowledge. Conveniently, some simplified models come from those which were once the generally accepted theories. That too, also provides insight into the development of theories and science in general.

Also, there are issues dealing with the cognitive development of students - depending on how far through stages of cognitive development he or she has progressed through, he or she may or may not be able to grasp particular scientific concepts. Usually as the student grows older and progresses through those stages, his or her ability to understand complex concepts increases. For example, according to Piaget's theory of cognitive development, a child under the age of seven years will not, generally, understand that a tall, narrow one-litre bottle contains the same amount of water than a shorter, wider one-litre bottle.

It makes sense then, for example, to introduce the model of an atom as a nucleus of protons and neutrons being orbited by point-charge-like electrons at a relatively early age. Then much later, students can use that knowledge, while technically wrong, to build a more sophisticated understanding of the ins and outs of particle physics: that electrons are not just particles-in-orbit but waves of energy, too (wave-particle duality); that protons and neutrons are made up of smaller, subatomic particles (quarks, gluons, et cetera); and that forces and interactions between those subatomic particles are mediated by other particles.

It is suprising that you think schools are made to impart critical citizenry when the schools themselves are some of the most authoritarian places in society. The teachers, in a position of power, are constructed to be in charge and obeyed without "backchat" or question. You have one socially authoritative group telling children to question authority then they get punished when they do.

I feel that, as schools are ostensibly agents of socialisation, it's a major reponsibility for schools to create a critical and healthily sceptical citizenry. I do recognise that in todays schools, students are being punished for questioning authority in one way or another. It could be argued that some of those students are barking up the smaller, wrong tree; that students are merely questioning the authority which maintains order in the classroom and the school, rather than questioning the greater authorities of knowledge and society.

But on Matthew's point as I interpret it, I think that authoritarian approaches to classroom order are on the way out. As the old guard retire from the ranks of teaching, those approaches which some of those retiring teachers practice will go into decline. In my education as a future teacher, I've noted that there is a shifting focus away from controlling the behaviours of individual students to orchestrating classroom activities; that order (as opposed to anarchy) is created through a wholistic approach rather than focusing on misbehaviour.

So yeah.

Listening to:
Title: Là Pour Ça
Artist: Nada Surf
Album/station: Let Go (2002)
Length: 3.17

Teaching science.

I finally started curriculum studies yesterday. This is where my education degree gets interesting, or at least supposed to, as distinct from what I've been doing for the last two-and-a-bit-years which, though important, has been boring as batshit.

Our group plunged into discussion about where science education has come in the last few years. We face a future where less students choose the physical sciences, at least in this country, and there are dire economic, industrial and societal consequences for that. And the worst part about it is that the brains we nurture and develop here leave us for greener pastures elsewhere - the brain drain. If we let other countries overtake us, as far as education, research, invention and innovation, then we risk turning into something of a backwater society. I mean, there is already a diminished general science intelligence or a knowledge of what science is in the general populace. The intelligent design debate and the heights it reached is a testament to that.

Anyway, the apparent reason for falling student numbers in the sciences is in its education: the way we've been teaching science is turning kids off. So the powers-that-be overhauled the curriculum. I experienced the new HSC science syllabuses when I was in high school, and I've been critical of them. The new syllabuses reduced the purely scientific content and introduced content better suited to the humanities. Effectively, I thought, they'd dumbed down science education (gosh, the words 'dumbed down' have had a bit of a run this last couple of weeks, haven't they?). The science schools in the universities have complained that the HSC courses don't adequately prepare students for tertiary-level science study, and I personally found that they didn't.

Soon after my tute, I arrived at home and read an excellent letter addressed to the Murdoch rag The Daily Terrorgraph and their boar of a columnist, Piers Akerman (Boar! Bore! Geddit? Har har!). And it made me think, you know. Maybe the new syllabuses aren't all that bad a thing.

Much in traditional science education is prescriptive. Science, by its nature, is governed by its own natural laws, has outcomes that are predictable, and is an objective discipline. Students at a secondary school level aren't expected nor are likely to rock the scientific community with some kind of amazing revelation. They're expected to sit and absorb facts and figures unquestioningly, and they receive a marginal grounding in scientific method.

Science education, I think, wasn't living up to its obligation to impart critical thinking skills to students. In fact, I don't think many, if not all, of the other curriculum areas were. Schools are, inadvertantly or not, agents of socialisation - mere children are turned into citizens of society. And critical citizenry is superior to an aqcuiescent one, especially in a time where government and business seem to be as treacherous as ever.

So I wouldn't call the changes to the science curriculum a dumbing down of science education. Science after all doesn't exist in a vacuum; there are sociopolitical influences and consequences that are intertwined with everything scientific, and I think students need to know about that. Getting a grasp on the history and philosophy of science is important, too. On a basic level, school students should be exposed to the notion that the prevailing wisdom is not necessarily correct; that science isn't about sets of immutable facts or laws but that it's a process of building knowledge. It's a shame, though, that such changes had to come at a cost of scientific content.

It's changes like that, and other changes in pedagogy as well, that will attract students back to the physical sciences.


Listening to:
Title: Pure Imagination
Artist: Gene Wilder (as Willy Wonka)
Album/station: Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory OST (1971)
Length: 4.19

2 903 words.

So my essay is clocking in at 2 903 words. Seriously, though, it’s a shitty essay. I should’ve started on it weeks ago instead of Sunday night. Then I wouldn’t be here in the Education Building’s AccessLab, hours before it’s due, furiously finishing and attempting to de-crapify this fourteen page, double spaced pile of steaming brown badness. Gah!

And just look at the question:

Reflection is the most important aspect for teachers and schools in creating effective learning environments.

Discuss this statement incorporating your observations, coursework, expriences and professional reading.

Your response should be exploratory, critical and reflective, typed and may include diagrams and images.

I’ve been told by mates in education faculties from other universities that it’s a shit question, too. One laughed and said that my lecturer probably hates me. Le sigh.


Listening to:
Title: Oh! You Pretty Things
Artist: Seu Jorge
Album/station: The Life Aquatic Studio Sessions featuring Seu Jorge (2005)
Length: 3.31

UQ: in daylight, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee...

So on Thursday night, Adsie took me to see a live production of Rent at UQ Union's Schonell Theatre which was rather good. The lad who was cast in the role of Roger was quite hot; the whole guitar and singing thing just rocks my socks.

Adsie took me on a tour of UQ some time afterward. Even though I'd never been there before, the place seemed familiar; the UQ campus features often in several of Nick Earls' novels that I've read. Just building names, mainly. Of course, it's not like visiting Hamlet's Elsinore or what, but sort of cool nonetheless.

We'd been in to the St Lucia campus earlier in the week when I tried to get a bit of that three-thousand word essay done, but it's so much prettier at night. By the way, that essay is still very much unfinished. Some would say unstarted. And I know that's not a word. It's due on Wednesday, so I've still got a little time.


Duhig Building, housing the Social Sciences and Humanities Library.


Physics Annexe. Woo physics!


Covered way near the Prentice Building.


Physics Annexe, by Staff House Road.


An ugly ugly cane toad in front of the Wordsmiths Cafe. Probably should've killed it or something, but I shat myself and ran away.


Adsie at the NAB's ATM in the UQ Union Building.


An international student, I gathered, using a payphone at some ungodly hour of the night. And she wasn't the only one. What's the deal?

Listening to:
Title: Human Love
Artist: Dirty Vegas
Album/station: One (2004)
Length: 5.18

Sarge: the master of the house, plus Brisbane pics.

It's only the first week of my bestmate Sarge living on his own (temporarily at least - for a couple of months), and I've had to do his groceries for him. Not that I mind. It felt kind of cool, feeling fatherlike (or rather, motherlike) and buying things that I thought he should have. I wouldn't want him to go hungry, you see.

While he has the house to himself, I think I might have to head over and crash every few nights or so. Or maybe even live there for a while. You know, to keep him company and stuff, what with him being in such a big house all on his lonesome. And after a week away, I'm hating coming back to live with my parents, so getting away again would be a pleasant bonus.

Meanwhile, some more photos from the aforementioned Brisbane trip. A bunch didn't turn out as great as I'd thought they would, so there aren't as many as I'd like. Oh well.


A train departs Brisbane Central for points south.


Our stop.


If you'll believe me, this is The Gabba. A poor unfortunate combination of a fast car, poor light and slow shutterspeed.


The Story Bridge over Kangaroo Point.


The City from over the Brisbane River, also at Kangaroo Point.

Listening to:
Title: I Feel Loved
Artist: Depeche Mode
Album/station: Exciter (2001)
Length: 4.20

All aboard, part deux.

NT32 Car D, Seat 39.
dep Brisbane (Roma Street) 0730 Saturday 22 Apr 2006
arr Sydney Terminal (Central) 2154 Saturday 22 Apr 2006

I'll tell you what: I was over the romance of rail travel after Kyogle - the first stop. I thought it'd never end. Fourteen hours and twenty-four minutes. Three different people occupied the seat next to me over the whole sojourn from Roma Street to Sydney Terminal. And I outlasted all of them. At least when I got to Central, there were a pair of heritage trains. Lucky me.

There's something funny about whooshing through familiar railway stations on long distance trains. You don't get that when you fly. It's just, well, when you've been staring out this window for fourteen-and-a-bit hours, you've seen all this scenery that's so foreign to you. Then suddenly something familiar, something local whizzes past. The trips never feel over until you've stepped off the plane or train, and yet my local station had flashed past like the countless unfamiliar ones before it, as if I was still hundreds of kays away from home. It spun me out. Or maybe I was just delirious. Fourteen hours. Bah!



NT31 from Sydney arrives at Roma Street at 0630, turns around and forms NT32 to Sydney, departing at 0730.


NT32 arrives on Platform 2 at Sydney Terminal.




4803 and 4916 head up the Cockatoo Run from Platform 1 at Sydney Terminal.


3801 in grey on Platform 3 at Sydney Terminal.


Waiting for mum and dad to pick me up.

There will be some Brisbane photos. I promise. A bunch of them.

Listening to:
Title: Quicksand
Artist: Seu Jorge
Album/station: The Life Aquatic Studio Sessions featuring Seu Jorge
Length: 4.35

All aboard.

NT31 Car D, Seat 49.
dep Sydney Terminal (Central) 1620 Sunday 16 Apr 2006
arr Brisbane (Roma Street) 0630 Monday 17 Apr 2006



Central Station.


NT31 on platform one, Sydney Terminal.


Fourteen hours with nothing else to do. Except a 3000 word essay.


Spam?!


Standard fare on the XPT: Grilled fish, steamed vegies and a bottle of Yarra Valley cabernet.


Fin.

(P.S. I've hijacked Adsie's lappy and taken advantage of UQ's wireless network to bring you this piece of visual infotainment. While here, he's informed me that I snore. And visited his queer little Carden Room. There'll be more Brisbane photos at some stage. Maybe.)


Listening to:
Title: ---
Artist: ---
Album/station: --- (0000)
Length: -.--

Going away & them bois.

So I'm off to Brisbane for a week and enjoying the hospitality of dear dear Adsie. I'm heading up on the XPT, and not just because it's cheaper; trains are my preferred mode of long-distance travel. I mean, sure the romance of rail travel isn't quite there anymore but I'll hold on to what's left of it. Plus, I have an essay to write. That'll eat up some of the fourteen-hour trip.

Meanwhile, I ran into a pair of my ex-boyfriends at Stonewall on Thursday night: El Presidente and the one I've dubbed Hoover (because he won a vacuum cleaner! Geddit?! Harhar). You know, in the entire time that I was seeing one or the other, I don't think I'd ever been to the Golden Mile/Kilometre/Fraction-thereof with either of them. Bah! I can't deal with seeing more than one former flame in one night. And I don't think I was at my sober best, either.


Listening to:
Title: Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy
Artist: Queen
Album/station: Greatest Hits [Parlophone] (2004)
Length: 2.56

Wheel! Of! Fortune!.

Like, ohmigod. My ex-boyfriend is on Wheel Of Fortune. No joke!

Listening to:
Title: ---
Artist: ---
Album/station: --- (0000)
Length: -.--

More from Boys' Corner.

Ah yes, Boys' Corner. Who says that toilet-wall discussions can't be profound?

Life is meaningless. Why do we bother? The sun sets, the sun rises. Everyday is your own personal nightmare.

Not when your [sic] judged by a bunch of shitty marks.

It's not hard to see why your marks are shitty with spelling like that. "Your" is a possessive pronoun (e.g. your idiocy), "You're" is a contraction (e.g. You're an idiot).

Look how you dot your i's with circles. You're not sitting down to shit, you're sitting down to pee.

Here endeth the lesson.

Listening to:
Title: The Mess We're In
Artist: PJ Harvey & Thom Yorke
Album/station: Stories From the City, Stories From the Sea (2000)
Length: 3.57

Revelations and infatuations.

Revelations. So last night, my Dad let me in on something he's never told me before. See, back in the late eighties and early nineties, he worked at a restaurant in Darlinghurst, which I already knew. What I didn't know was that in the basement of the aforementioned restaurant was a nightclub. And after being employed at this restaurant for quite some time, the owners of the place had promoted him to manage the nightclub beneath every few nights. He even told me about how he had to go around the corner to Kings Cross to recruit Islander bouncers. But the impression I got was that it wasn't a permanent full-time thing; it was just a contingency measure to cover duty managers who couldn't front up to work for one reason or another. But still, my dad, the homophobic Catholic womaniser, managing a club on Oxford Street. Like, ohmigod.

I don't quite know what to feel about my Dad sometimes. Generally, I don't like him all that much; he's hard to get along with, and he likes to antagonise people. That, and his parenting always seemed to me to be a little inconsistent in most ways, and consistently disappointing on numerous others. But sometimes when he isn't being a complete wankstain, when he comes up with these little anecdotes, then he's okay.

Infatuations. I went to a mate's twenty-first, which happened to be in a house next door to where The Whitlams' song No Aphrodisiac was penned. I rocked up a little late though, because Faceless Corporation's Call Centre of Hell^TM wouldn't release me from its evil clutches. So by the time I did turn up, there was so much to catch up on. Of course, lessons learnt from that sociology report I did on youth drinking last year went out the window. Empty stomach; absinthe shots; JD and Colas.

And pretty boys. There were pretty boys. Plenty. But there was one in particular: a hot lad from Melbourne. Blonde scruffy hair, adorable dimpled smile, hot bod. Lick. Shotted the absinthe with him, and I briefly crashed with him on the sofa bed. At some point I may have accidently brushed my hand past his doodle area and, umm, it felt kind of hard. Well, if it were indeed his doodle. Alas, there was rejection; straight boy, after all. Me: a self-made arse. And in addition to that, due to my inability to control the volume of my voice in conversation when intoxicated, I may have also inadvertently announced my wee-morning-hour craving for dick to a larger audience than planned. Bah!

I went kebabbing with Hot Melbourne Boy and a few other folks this morning, and then he had to return to his fair city. Le sigh.


Listening to:
Title: If You Find Yourself Caught In Love
Artist: Belle & Sebastian
Album/station: Dear Catastrophe Waitress (2003)
Length: 4.15

Ululating like crazy people.

So someone thought it'd be a good idea for us student teachers to engage in some collective arse-making. Which suited me fine; it'd make a change from me just making an arse of myself all on my own. But it wasn't without its purpose, though. The arse-making was ostensibly to help us use our voices better in the classroom for when we go on practicum, and if we don't become discouraged by then, for our eventual teaching careers. So if you happened to be hanging around the Old Teachers' College today and heard ululating akin to a dying gazelle, that was us. Voice workshop plus arse-making equals fun!

Meanwhile, third-year B.Ed.(Secondary) seems to be full of gays or boys that should be. Or open to experimentation, at the very least. There's Mister Dane, for example: tall, dark, and a little odd. And he also has this stream-of-conciousness thing about him which I find fascinating. Some might say alluring. So as luck would have it, I ended up being partnered with him in the workshop today, and the fucker had me giggling all through it. Fucker. There was this one activity where each pair stood toe-to-toe, counted to one (ha!) and took a step back, counted to two and took another step back, and so on until we reached ten and then back again, adjusting the volume of one's voice as appropriate to the distance. When we met in the middle again, we ended up a tad closer than when we began - misjudged steps on the return journey, methinks - and he told me I smelt nice. Me: weak at the knees.


Listening to:
Title: I Get A Kick Out Of You
Artist: Jamie Cullum
Album/station: Twentysomething (2003)
Length: 4.10

Private-school girls and boys, and other musings.

So for my weekly school observation visit, the Faculty of Education despatched me up the North Shore to one of the elite private girls' schools that seem to infest the area. I didn't have high expectations for the visit. You know, snotty girls and staff who are just as snotty and focussed on results rather tham learning. But you know what? The place was pretty nice. The kids were sweet and the teachers seemed to love doing what they do. Of course, there was the glaring absence of problem students. I suppose an exclusive school such as this one can afford to reject undesirable kids (and I suppose they aren't obliged to accept them, either).

And ohmigod, the campus; my preconceived notions of an elite non-government school confirmed. And these buildings were probably subsidised by the public purse, mind you, whilst schools of the state fall into relative disrepair. Bah! Anyway, I think I'll take this chip off my shoulder, just for now - because, well, it was nice. The girls were nice; the staff were nice. The campus. Just, nice. Nice, nice, nice.

I sat in on a year-eight English class (don't ask how I ended up there) and a year-twelve physics class. Physics, finally. I mean, seeing as in all my ob visits, I hadn't actually seen one yet - a great effort for Mister Physics-teacher-in-training, moi. They were studying relativity, which was great: a topic I'm semi-comfortable with - secondary school stuff, after all.

But then I realised how crap the HSC physics syllabus is - it's a tad restrictive, and the powers-that-be have taken things away without giving anything back in return. Nothing about Lorentz transformations; nothing about how Einstein really came to E₀ = m₀c². Not even a geometrical derivation of length-contraction, or mass- or time-dilation (which is really really helpful). Instead, kids in their last school years these days don't learn; they memorise with a view to regurgitating facts and figures at some later date, i.e. this is the equation, and you don't need to know how or why it works - it just does. Hopeless. Anyway, when the class teacher asked me to pitch in (free labour, after all), I did my best, considering that I couldn't use the tools and methods that I had to learn this stuff myself. Hmm yep, a great profession awaits.

Oh yeah, and Ms Physics-teacher asked me to speak to the class before they got down to the relativity-business. Stuff about physics, education, and university. Which I did. It sucked a bit, short notice and all. And I'm shit with speaking off-the-cuff. I tried to inspire or something. But I may have failed dismally.

Meanwhile, at Faceless Corporation's Call Centre of Hell^TM, there's a small article of grafitti in Boys' Corner about a totally different educational institution although in the same general area:

Barker cock suckers - and that's just the girls!

The italic portion was added after the original scrawling, I suppose. Was Barker the one involved with the Apple-Chapel rumour?


In other mental defecations, Edward and I may or may not start a lobby group dedicated to replacing the '`' key on qwerty keyboards (to the left of the '1' key) with an interrobang key, i.e. '?!'.


Listening to:
Title: Hungry Like The Wolf
Artist: Duran Duran
Album/station: Greatest (1998)
Length: 3.25

Things that shit me.

I need to move out of home. Exhibit K:



Listening to:
Title: Jungle
Artist: Frente
Album/station: Shape (1996)
Length: 3.05

Shute Shield: round one.


Eastwood, 33.
Penrith, 17.
T.G. Millner Field, Marsfield.

A glorious first round of the Shute Shield club rugby comp. And, back to the stands at T.G. Millner, with its trademark hard and uncomfortable wooden seats and the cold, cold breeze blowing across the oval. It was absolutely freezing today - what the fuck was up with that? Great game though, and my Woodies totally caned Penrith. Woo!

Also, a lad from my year group in high school scored a position as a winger on the team. And ohmigod he's grown and bulked up since I last saw him. He's a beast now. Friggen HUUUUUGE!

Now of course, I go to rugby games for the strategy, the tactics, and the spirit of the sport. But, umm, the totty out there on the grass is nice too. You know, it's all just incidental. The Woodies' fly-half in the second grade team in the game before the big one, with the blond scruffy hair, pretty face... GRAWR. He took a monster tackle in the dying minutes and I may or may not have screamed out, "Not the face!". I want a rugby boy for my birthday. It's in July, so you've all got plenty of time.

Meanwhile, Adam and Steph played a nasty April Fool's prank on me. They pretended that they had a monster fight and called off their wedding. Of course I was going to be concerned, being the loyal friend that I am. Nasty. But wouldn't it have been shit if I'd told one that that the other was a bitch/bastard and that they were never right for each other in the first place? Remember rule forty-two: when consoling broken hearted friends, never use the he-or-she-is-shit approach.


Listening to:
Title: Need You Tonight
Artist: Mylo
Album/station: Ministry of Sound: Chillout Sessions, Vol.6
Length: 4.42

Anxiety.

Someone said to me the other day that the new colour scheme was a little emo. Just so you know, that wasn't the intention; I just copied the red and black from the NAB. But while we're on the subject, permit me to be just a tad, erm, emo. Just once.

Uni. Apparently this week's group of Sinny Yooni kiddies on observation visit to the shire high school were yelled at by a teacher there, apparently because of something last week's group (my group) did. Something that was bad or disrespectful or something-or-other. I have no idea why they were given a talking-to, but I have this weird feeling it was because of something I did. Am I paranoid? Maybe. Neurotic? Possibly. Anyway, I feel really shit, if not for me, then for them. Fancy that, adults being scolded like children for something they didn't even do.

Work. I'm surprised they haven't sacked me yet. I show such a level of incompetence at Faceless Corporation's Call Centre of Hell^TM that they must be close to the end of their rope with me by now. By the way, work tonight sucked too. Then again, I suppose ending my employment there wouldn't be such a terrible thing. But being sacked at the hands of dodgy Faceless Corporation would really hurt my ego.

Parents. I'm fine with them breaking up. In fact, I'd rather they did. But they haven't. There's this weird sort of limbo where they're together but not. And then there's this powerplay between them. I mean, I'm ninteen years old; nearly twenty, even. I'm too old to be a pawn, a gambling chip in their shitty games. Like, ohmigod. Le eye roll. And I don't like my dad all that much, but I hate being mean to him, so now I'm all anxious about that, too. Blah.

The only thing keeping me sane at the moment is an ancient copy of A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess from Fisher. Ha!


Listening to:
Title: Boys Don't Cry
Artist: The Cure
Album/station: Greatest Hits (2003)
Length: 2.41