She's kissing someone who isn't me. That's all I really feel I wanna say on that topic. Probably all that anyone really needs to hear.
Today was bad. I missed Church because I hit the "off" button instead of the "snooze" button. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. Honestly though I have missed Church far more than I think is really right and I do feel guilty that my friends seem to have notice too. Brittany left me a nice little token inside one of the books she borrowed for her train ride to Sydney. It's basically a coin with a Cross on one side and a passage, Mark 10:27 "With GOD all things are POSSIBLE", on the other. I guess, to me and probably a lot of people, it has a double meaning. My degree will be over in a year and then I'll have to decide if I wanna join the Police or the Army as my whole family wants me too.
But there is a small part inside of me that still wants to write for a living. When I took my journalism units the tutor said I should be doing a journalism degree and my writing was excellent. I passed this along to my Dad while I was in Zimbabwe, we were sitting outside the lodge in Victoria falls and it was just getting to evening. He wasn't looking at me but gazing out across the lawn in front of our lodge, possibly looking at the gouges the warthogs had left when they'd come through earlier in the day. "Do you know? I always said you had writing talent." He paused to top up his tea from the pot I'd made, I fetched the biscuits while he did this. He was quiet while he selected a biscuit from the tin, the silence was agonizing but I didn't want to push him. "You know it's hard don't you?" He asked finally. I indicated that I was aware that I had perhaps less than .2% chance of making it as an actual writer. "I used to read your blog that you did for the University. I quite liked it. I was let down when you stopped updating it. It gave me a better picture of what you were up to over there then you ever did over the phone." He lapsed into silence again, perhaps exhausted from this reveal. I was quite shocked by that little detail.
The Murdoch blog was an ill-fated experiment by the Marketing department, cynically paying students to write glowing posts about the University. Actually that's not fair they never expected us to lie and would never edit our posts (they didn't have the ability) but they did ask us to keep it PG appropriate. Sadly most of the bloggers ran out of blog juice (or whatever they run on) by about 3 posts. I managed to keep going but sadly my blog was infected with malicious code and I had to stop for a month while Google sorted it out. Once I lost the habit it was too hard to get back into and my blog began to languish. Dad sipped his tea once more, "You know we'd like to see you finish University. You've come so far and I know it's been hard but it really does make a difference."
Uni hasn't been a walk in the park so far, I've been assaulted by psychotic flatmates (he claimed he could see spirits, true or not it still didn't excuse him trying to turn me into one), had a flat flooded with sewage, gotten my filling knocked out by some bastard simply because Andrew sipped the wrong beer (why he hit me was never adequately explained) and of course there was the mystery illness which culminated in a doctor putting a camera into places that traditionally my body never really thought would ever be seen. On top of all this drama there has also been exams and assignments to complete. But I have enjoyed nearly every second of it.
"I don't plan on dropping out Dad, I just don't know if I want to pursue my major after I graduate. I don't want to waste your money." I said sipping my own tea now, the evening had crept in around us and it was at that stage just before you need to turn a light on. I got up and switched the outside lights on. "I don't care if you use your degree, it's important to have anyway. People will see it and at least realize you have some semblance of a working brain." At this point I must confess that it was a bit of a shocking moment. I had my Dad's blessing to pursue a writing career providing I passed my degree. The conversation from there was more than I really feel comfortable sharing on this blog as it was really about Mum and some other problems our family was facing, but for one perfect moment I had my family's permission and blessing to pursue the career I've wanted since I was 14. I'm giving all my options some serious thought, a close friend has suggested starting a semi-serious blog but I don't know if those really get taken seriously. Another has suggested I explore my writing options with SG but I don't think I'm qualified enough.
I guess I will give my Dad a ring and ask his opinion tomorrow after I'm done with contract negotiations, the Village is trying to screw the RA's again BIG SURPRISE. Hope everyone has had a good weekend. Sorry for the overly-long and seemingly pointless post xox
Today was bad. I missed Church because I hit the "off" button instead of the "snooze" button. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. Honestly though I have missed Church far more than I think is really right and I do feel guilty that my friends seem to have notice too. Brittany left me a nice little token inside one of the books she borrowed for her train ride to Sydney. It's basically a coin with a Cross on one side and a passage, Mark 10:27 "With GOD all things are POSSIBLE", on the other. I guess, to me and probably a lot of people, it has a double meaning. My degree will be over in a year and then I'll have to decide if I wanna join the Police or the Army as my whole family wants me too.
But there is a small part inside of me that still wants to write for a living. When I took my journalism units the tutor said I should be doing a journalism degree and my writing was excellent. I passed this along to my Dad while I was in Zimbabwe, we were sitting outside the lodge in Victoria falls and it was just getting to evening. He wasn't looking at me but gazing out across the lawn in front of our lodge, possibly looking at the gouges the warthogs had left when they'd come through earlier in the day. "Do you know? I always said you had writing talent." He paused to top up his tea from the pot I'd made, I fetched the biscuits while he did this. He was quiet while he selected a biscuit from the tin, the silence was agonizing but I didn't want to push him. "You know it's hard don't you?" He asked finally. I indicated that I was aware that I had perhaps less than .2% chance of making it as an actual writer. "I used to read your blog that you did for the University. I quite liked it. I was let down when you stopped updating it. It gave me a better picture of what you were up to over there then you ever did over the phone." He lapsed into silence again, perhaps exhausted from this reveal. I was quite shocked by that little detail.
The Murdoch blog was an ill-fated experiment by the Marketing department, cynically paying students to write glowing posts about the University. Actually that's not fair they never expected us to lie and would never edit our posts (they didn't have the ability) but they did ask us to keep it PG appropriate. Sadly most of the bloggers ran out of blog juice (or whatever they run on) by about 3 posts. I managed to keep going but sadly my blog was infected with malicious code and I had to stop for a month while Google sorted it out. Once I lost the habit it was too hard to get back into and my blog began to languish. Dad sipped his tea once more, "You know we'd like to see you finish University. You've come so far and I know it's been hard but it really does make a difference."
Uni hasn't been a walk in the park so far, I've been assaulted by psychotic flatmates (he claimed he could see spirits, true or not it still didn't excuse him trying to turn me into one), had a flat flooded with sewage, gotten my filling knocked out by some bastard simply because Andrew sipped the wrong beer (why he hit me was never adequately explained) and of course there was the mystery illness which culminated in a doctor putting a camera into places that traditionally my body never really thought would ever be seen. On top of all this drama there has also been exams and assignments to complete. But I have enjoyed nearly every second of it.
"I don't plan on dropping out Dad, I just don't know if I want to pursue my major after I graduate. I don't want to waste your money." I said sipping my own tea now, the evening had crept in around us and it was at that stage just before you need to turn a light on. I got up and switched the outside lights on. "I don't care if you use your degree, it's important to have anyway. People will see it and at least realize you have some semblance of a working brain." At this point I must confess that it was a bit of a shocking moment. I had my Dad's blessing to pursue a writing career providing I passed my degree. The conversation from there was more than I really feel comfortable sharing on this blog as it was really about Mum and some other problems our family was facing, but for one perfect moment I had my family's permission and blessing to pursue the career I've wanted since I was 14. I'm giving all my options some serious thought, a close friend has suggested starting a semi-serious blog but I don't know if those really get taken seriously. Another has suggested I explore my writing options with SG but I don't think I'm qualified enough.
I guess I will give my Dad a ring and ask his opinion tomorrow after I'm done with contract negotiations, the Village is trying to screw the RA's again BIG SURPRISE. Hope everyone has had a good weekend. Sorry for the overly-long and seemingly pointless post xox