Don't make me use my handbag!
Sunday, July 31, 2005
2001: A Sam Oddity (Part 2)
EDIT: This is mainly in response to Celia's comment, and Abbey's to some extent. I guess, as is always a risk with a blog where it's hard to make an accurate portrayal, this reads in a really negative fashion. Fact is, I enjoyed 2001. I loved hanging out with my friends, all of them. I had some really fun and funny times with Celia and other friends (I remember how we used to hang out it clubs and, when we got sick of dancing, sit down and joke about all the others. And rank them in terms of desperateness, and who should hook up with whom. Those were fun times! And all the films we saw together, and the parties... I remember dressing up as Dr. No for a James Bond party by wearing a lab-coat with 'No Means No' stickers all over it! I had forgotten about playing pool with Celia on Fridays, though - possibly because she started out really bad at it and then ended up kicking my butt! And first year, that was great fun too...) I'm sorry that I missed mentioning this part in this retrospective.
Yeah, I had fun. Yeah, I had a lot of good friends (again, which is hard to see in these posts). I wasn't lonely in the sense of not having friends who cared about me and whom I cared about (well, to be fair, I did feel that way sometimes, but who doesn't?), but in the sense of a deeper kind of loneliness. A sense that deep down, no-one understood me. And I was happy, yeah. Happy to be with friends, and to be doing fun things. I guess a lot of what I've written is hindsight. I wrote that it was "a very lonely and hopeless existence" - that wasn't fair. Sorry, I'd just written four pages, I wasn't really thinking! Um, perhaps it's best not to read too much into this all, in that sense. This is four years ago...
So I'm sorry for the miscommunication, all. And Celia, I'm sorry for the way it came across, I can see how that would be hurtful. I honestly loved the times we spent together, and you were an awesome friend. I still talk about you with my current friends. :-) Kristy, 2001 was my second year, but I don't think you were in Queen Street until the year after.
Back to the original post:
Okay, this is where it gets really personal. Surprisingly, it’s really hard to talk about. Maybe that shouldn’t be surprising. But in your comments… be gentle.
Across from me, in room 108 (?) was a Mr. Brendan Ng. I can’t remember much about our friendship (or any friendship that year, with the possible exception of Jeremy), except that I thought he was a bit weird (he’d just become Christian, although that wasn’t the sole reason for his weirdness), quiet, and – let’s face it – geeky. I was geeky too, but in a different way. And geeks still find geeks geeky.
Yeah, right, like all you guys don’t know what I mean right there!
Down the other hallway was a Mr. David Pomeroy. I don’t remember much about him, except seeing him on the tennis court, always shoeless. That’s why I called him a hippy all the time. I think he might have been friends with the girls our group hung out with, or something like that. I dunno. He was weird too, and I think quite… outspoken. I think that describes him well. I could be wrong about that, I just seem to recall him always having strong opinions about things and getting frustrated that we didn’t always share them.
And then, there was Jeremy. He didn’t live on FFJ, but in the ‘dungeon’, two floors below. I think Brent was there too, but we were never that close. I’ve got no idea how we met or became such good friends, but I presume it had something to do with movies. Maybe a film festival brought us together, heh. Wouldn’t surprise me. He wasn’t so much weird, unlike the others. Not in the same way. I think we were very similar in a lot of ways. He vaguely knew my mate Guy from Onslow College, and a bunch of guys from my school (mainly a year below me, I think).
Oh yeah, that was an interesting thing. I was second-year, but was to all intents and purposes a first-year. That didn’t help me fit in, which I was already struggling with (not that I really wanted to, actually. I was happy living my life my way). I hung out with a bunch of the second-year HTs (= RAs – “House Tutors”) because they did law with me, but I never identified fully with either year. Side-note.
Flip, this is going to be long. Perhaps you should have been more specific. To be honest, I haven’t really talked about myself much, have I? All right, I can do that.
Me, circa 2001
Probably the most important (in retrospect) thing about 18/19 year-old me was my coldness. No, that word doesn’t fit. I’ll try and describe it. I was very materialistic, but not in the sense of valuing wordly goods, I don’t think I was ever that much into that, more the opposite of dualistic. In the sense that there was no soul/spirit, and that everything we experience can be described by brain activity. Tolstoy said that materialists mistake that which limits life for life itself.
Hang on a sec, that can’t be right. I believed in God… and judging by an essay I wrote (and still have) on teleportation, I considered myself a substance dualist, but not a ‘Cartesian Interactionist Dualist’. That is, I believed we had souls, but there was no causal interaction possible between soul and body. I was really into philosophy back then. As a side note, apparently John Locke’s Memory Criterion states that a person (P1) is the same person in the present as in the past if and only if P1 has memories of that past when they are in the present. Which makes me wonder about Lost, which contains a character called John Locke and a gigantic number of flashbacks to the past. Perhaps the people on the island aren’t who they think they are, but have false memories. Season 2 of Lost has just been announced as starting in mid-September in the US, so we don’t have too long to wait…
Anyways, I was basically a materialist who wanted to believe in the afterlife. This had two interesting consequences. Firstly, I wanted to believe in the afterlife. So I believed in the Christian one, and the Christian concept of God and Heaven (I had to, in order to get in). This was probably due to the Christian camps I went to in Secondary School. I considered myself a Christian because I did (some) Christian things and didn’t do (some) non-Christian things. But apart from my belief in God and Heaven (which was more of a hope), it was pretty much a superstition to me. I was embarrassed to mention it, and embarrassed to hear about it (especially about Jesus Christ, whom I didn’t really think about much – an attitude which has also affected my present Christian walk too, but that’s for another post).
Secondly, I’ll quote The Darkness in saying, ‘Love is only a feeling’, and nothing more. Materialism, cynicism and various experiences had brought me to the conclusion that love and emotions are made to be manipulated (in oneself, not in others – although that tends to follow). That is to say, if I wanted to love someone, I had to force myself to do it. If I didn’t want to feel lonely, I could force myself to do it. I had to control the emotions I experienced, because they were dangerous to me. My mind had to guard my heart against embarrassing me.
This hardness/coldness was one of the bigger problems in my life, and again, still affects me (much more than I’d care to admit) today. I’m not sure whether this was what led me into wanting to be an actor or vice versa, but I often felt like a phony (“Hey, this guy’s a phony! He’s a big fat phony!”) because I was saying/doing/acting/feeling like (thought) I was expected to, most of the time. And I was so scared of being found out.
I got in a relationship in 2001, with a nice girl, a friend of a friend. We broke up after a few months, it was a friendly, mutual decision. Although we needed to break up anyway, I also wanted the freedom to, er, broaden my horizons in America (see below). But the relationship itself was basically a time-filler that wasn’t going anywhere. It was something to do. I’ll note that we both had our ‘boundaries’, and that included emotionally. I wasn’t letting anyone in. Not because I was afraid, but because I thought I was better than that. I scoffed at those who let their emotions control them.
But, later on in the year in November, I went on a WorkUSA trip. After spending a few weeks trying to find a job (acting in Hollywood!), meeting new people who left for different states soon after, traveling around… I got really lonely. Maybe that’s what got my guard down, but I met a girl, and the rest is history. Basically, I allowed myself to love and be loved, and that totally broke me. In a good way. As many of you know, that relationship continued for a year and a half, or so, and by then I had completely given my life to Jesus Christ (April 2002, to be exact).
Although that decision didn’t fix everything instantly (which initially made me wonder if I’d done it right!), and there’s still a lot I struggle with… well, there’re so many things God’s been changing in me since then (which I earnestly pray is visible), and that is one of the strongest testimonies to me of God’s hand in my life. So yeah.
Actually, funnily enough, I was into Tony Robbins’ ‘Personal Power 2’ (a 24-CD set!) back in 2001, which was all about realizing your potential and self-improvement and all that. And to be honest, cheesy as it was, it was a very good and effective program. But the stuff I’ve learned through the Holy Spirit, man, that’s so much more effective than Mr. Robbins. When I first became a Christian I was excited because I could see myself changing so much, and I was afraid that I’d peak and not have anything left to change! I wasn’t thinking too clearly that day!
The other thing that defined me then was that I was quite hedonistic. I wanted, in my own words, “the most fun with the least effort.” Which fits in nicely with my reasoning for coming to Otago. Where you can basically live in a party environment, if you want. Anyways, that egoism furthered my social estrangement from most of those on my floor and in my hall (or was it the other way around?), and led me further into that quick and easy way of having fun: alcohol. And other substances, to be fair. Which, erm, are technically ‘alcohols’ as well.
I remember – sort of – one of the ‘hops’ our hall went to. A friend and I (shoot, I ain’t naming no names, most of you know who anyways) bought some Absinthe, having heard a lot about it. Strong-tasting stuff. About 65% alcohol, or something. We drank quite a bit beforehand, and took some with us (in film canisters, would you believe? That added an ‘interesting’ flavour, I’ll tell you!). For both of us, this was the only night in our adult lives that we cannot remember at all. We were just gone.
And that was just an example. I also remember some times I hung out with another of my mates. We liked to drink beer quite a bit. And we’d just seen the movie ‘Fight Club’. We used to get boozed and have bare-knuckle boxing matches (with rules, natch – no head-shots, etc). I remember this one time, at his party – WARNING, GETS GRAPHIC - we went out into the park across the road from his place. I had to borrow one of his shirts, ‘cos mine was too nice to fight in. I had a scab on the inside of my arm, and it got ripped open in the fight. There was blood everywhere. Man, was I glad I was wearing his (white) shirt!
What else is worth remembering from 2001… Ah… ‘Kubris’. My first attempt at a short film. Although, based on a read-through of the script (which is always quicker than the un-cut finished product), it clocked in at around an hour. I spent so much time working on it, which I found really rewarding. I’m still quite proud of some the script, although there is a lot of vulgarity, pretentiousness and plagiarism. The plagiarism was intentional, though, and acknowledged. It’s hard to explain. Anyways, it didn’t get filmed, except for, oh, about 10 minutes worth. Which I still have, somewhere. We filmed the bits with my character (called ‘Alex’, incidentally – a reference to ‘A Clockwork Orange’ as well as my first name) first, so we never got around to roping in other people.
It was the first film Jeremy and I worked on together. We gave up because we realized that the editing equipment couldn’t accomplish my vision, which was unfortunate. It was an incredibly ambitious film. As the title suggests (‘hubris’). It was filled with references to films (especially by Stanley Kubrick, whom I was obsessed with for a while there), songs (especially by David Bowie, also a favourite) and pop-culture. The theme was pretty much a guy’s descent into sickness/madness. Which is worth mentioning only because it represents well where my mind was at. Most people do Psychology to work out what’s wrong with them; that was part of my reason.
Lordy, that’s about all I can think of. A lot of drinking, a little studying… I didn’t really know where I was going, and in a sense I didn’t like where I’d come from… So I focused on my present and had fun.
Any questions?
Friday, July 29, 2005
Still stolen, still interesting - re: blogging.
EDIT: Um, just to clear things up after a rather worried e-mail (which I probably should have expected) - the links below do not reflect the views or feelings of moi. Although I have felt/thought many of them in the past, but not for quite a while now. My blogging days are far from over. But thanks for caring. :-)
This'n is for everyone who is reading this (although there is some swearing, watch out):
Learn about blog depression!
"If you feel overwhelmed with a crushing pressure to post to your blog, a pressure so acute and strong that you can't post anything at all, try to remember: no one cares."
Okay, for those who want a more serious look at a blog-life crisis, see here.
"“you create for no one but yourself”... an interesting fact about blogging- a blog is like a child. your own child. you pass your dna on to it. it has your strengths and your weaknesses. i’ve found that all the over analyzing i do in regards to my own function and purpose, i now do to (the author's site) as well. i worry about it. i am disappointed by it. i admire it from across the room. the site is often depressive like it’s father.
"it’s just that i’m conflicted about this site more than usual of late and need to work it out. i find myself wishing the site didn’t exist. wishing i weren’t so prideful as to keep it going just out of spite. wishing no one read the site at all so i could just update once a century. wishing it were better and brought people forth from the anonymous crevasses of the web to do more than look.
when i’m not despising this site with every fiber of my being i’m enjoying it thoroughly. hopefully tomorrow, or later today, i’ll resume blogging on the sunny side of the street, another blog-life crisis averted"
It's an interesting look at an interesting topic. Blogging.
Part II, still coming... :-)
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Stolen, but relevant...
From Buffalo Wings and Vodka. One thing worth mentioning is that "passing the bar exam" (which apparently 75,000 people are trying to do in the States at the moment) is the American equivalent of completing Profs - which will happen in 2 1/2 weeks for me. With that in mind...:
"
What Could Be Worse Than Failing the Bar Exam?
For starters:
Failing the bar exam while passing a kidney stone, and having to do a torts question about a kidney stone on the bar exam.
Failing the bar exam, coming back to your house to find that your friends have all thrown you a "Congrats on Passing the Bar Exam Party," telling them that you most likely failed, them kicking the shit out of you in your own home and then not leaving you any ranch dip, which is your favorite food, or at least it was your favorite food until the bar exam.
Failing the bar exam and then realizing that your parents never loved you, but that they might have if only you'd passed the bar exam.
Failing the bar exam and then finding out that your husband is cheating on you with the lady who proctored your bar exam.
Passing the bar exam and, as a result, having to practice law for forty years.
"
... and don't worry, Part II is still coming, slowly but surely.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Indonesia... following a really big ad.
No no seriously, check this out. It's hilarious!
Ooh, and look, a Rent screensaver!
This is an e-mail from Dave Pomeroy talking about Indonesia, posted with permission (natch). Thought it would be a nice change of pace, expecially before Part II comes out. Plus I wanted to parody Bing's recent blogging attempt. :-) Here goes:
----------------------------------------------------------------
Hi everybody!
This is quite long so if you're in a hurry leave it
til later. Feel free to foward it to anyone you think
would be interested.
Here are a few impressions from my trip to Indonesia.
I was there for the two weeks of my teachers’ college
holidays and got back home yesterday afternoon. I
though I should write while the memories are still
fresh. I think you’ll get a better idea of what it was
like from anecdotes than from a chronological account.
So welcome to my holiday!
[Bali]
I was only in Bali for a couple of days and didn’t see
much so I can’t really do justice to it, but my main
impression was one of a lot of friendly yet desperate
locals feeding off the crumbs of Western decadence.
It’s amazing how an exchange rate can change the way
people relate to each other. Even poor students such
as myself are suddenly rich and can stay in nice
hotels, buy nice clothes and eat out every meal. Most
of the tourist money goes to the airlines (in my case
Qantas, not even an Indonesian business) and the
well-established hotels and restaurants. Then there
are the street venders accosting you to get at your
small change so that they can survive. It was hard to
relax as there was always someone trying to sell me a
drink, get me in their taxi, give me a massage… I even
had one woman who insisted I should get dreadlocks. My
hair is about 2 cm long.
massage [Bali]
I had a massage one night to relax before bed, as a
holiday treat. It turned out the masseuse was a lovely
local girl, probably in her late teens. I asked her
about her family and it turns out she is from Lombok,
where nearly everyone is Muslim. She came to Bali
because she could earn far better money than back
home. The massage was 60,000 rupees ($10 NZ). An
agricultural worker in Indonesia might earn a quarter
of that in a day. After the massage she asked me if I
wanted a little more than just a massage. Of course I
said no, but it was quite painful to meet this
destructive side of poverty. Especially with her
background she must feel like she has betrayed
herself and her family.
soccer [Bali]
I had a great opportunity to meet locals who didn’t
want my money. There was a large group of young men
building a new hotel complex nearby and they went down
to the beach to play soccer every evening. On my last
night in Bali I asked if I could join them. They
welcomed me onto the sand and we played against the
backdrop of an idyllic sunset. I still have a bruised
foot.
mandi, the Indonesian bathroom [Java]
One of the foreign idiosyncrasies that takes a while
to get used to is the Indonesian mandi, or “shower”.
There is a big tub of unheated water and a pitcher.
You stand on the marble floor and pour water over
yourself. You never get into the tub, that would be
extremely rude. If you used this system in Dunedin you
would have to break the ice on top first, but in a
country with warm weather all year round having
unheated water is both energy-efficient and
refreshing. There is no toilet paper. You use water
and your left hand. I think this is actually more
hygienic than what we do, and it gives me a new
appreciation of why they eat, pass things and hold the
Quran with their right hand.
my first speaking appointment in a Mosque
[Tulungagung, Java]
Waladi and I were in a Muslim girls’ senior high
school (form 5-7) in Tulungagung promoting his new
Communicative English School. We walk into the school
Mosque to make our presentation and I find myself
faced with two hundred teenage girls in headscarves
literally screaming as if Tom Cruise had just entered
the room. They whisper and giggle during the
presentation. When it is my turn to speak, another
round of screaming and, once I have finished talking
about Waladi’s wonderful English, they get to practice
their English with me. “Excuse me, Mr David, do you
have a special someone?” “What do you think about the
Indonesian girls?” “Sir, you have a very beautiful
smile.” They wave to me as I disappear on the back of
Waladi’s motorbike. There is nothing austere or
lifeless about these girls, whose eyes shine inside
their headscarves.
church hospitality [Gadingan, Solo City, Java]
I have been in the economy class bus for nearly five
hours; there is no air conditioning, no white people,
very limited English and a baby is vomiting up the
front. They cover it up with some sand from the side
of the road and keep driving. Then I get to the bus
station in Solo and find Pastor Fera, a bubbly woman
maybe in her thirties, and Alin and Iin, girls who
look about 14 but are nearly as old as me. They usher
me into the BMW they have borrowed for my visit. They
take me to the train station where they buy me an
executive class ticket for my return to Tulungagung
and refuse to let me pay for it. They take me to the
supermarket and insist that I decide what I want for
dinner.
Iin has given up her room for me but never mentions
it. I know that it would be pointless to tell them I
don’t mind sleeping on the floor. On Sunday night my
train is scheduled to leave at 1.30am, but Fera and
eight of the young leaders in the church stay up and
come to see me off. They have a 4am prayer meeting in
the morning. I insist that I can get on the train by
myself and that they need their sleep, but they won’t
leave until I do. The train is delayed and nine of
them sit with me in the train station from midnight
until 3.30am. They are happy just to be there with me,
which is very humbling. The train leaves in time for
them to get back to Gadingan for prayer, without
sleeping all night.
They text me, thanking me so much for coming. One of
them sent me this: “Thanks 4 all, God bless you
everything that you do, success always be with you,
please don’t say goodbye I’ll always love you and pray
for you.” Not in the romantic sense (I don’t think!)
They are very special people.
faith [Gadingan, Solo City, Java]
The church there is not in a comfortable place. The
leaders of the terrorist group responsible for the
bombings of Bali nightclubs and the Australian embassy
are from Solo. I pray with some women, ex-Muslims, who
have recently been baptised. They are facing strong
opposition from their families for their conversion. A
whole family who had practiced a combination of Islam
and Javanese spirit-worship came to Christ when
members of the church prayed for their paralysed
child, who was completely healed.
Pastor Fera asks me to speak at the Saturday night
youth service, the 5.30am Sunday service and the
Sunday night leaders’ meeting. I have virtually no
time to prepare. “That’s ok”, she says, “the Holy
Spirit is in charge of our services here.” Their
complete and joyful trust in God in difficult
circumstances was inspiring and humbling. They are not
proud, religious or overly pious, they just radiate
God’s love in a very natural way.
Eka [Igun’s niece, Tulungagung, Java]
Eka is reading me her homework at Waladi’s English
school, where I have been doing some teaching. One of
the questions is about how she celebrates Mothers’ Day
and Fathers’ Day. She doesn’t specifically, because
it’s not a Muslim festival, but she reads out, in
remarkably good English, that we should honour and
pray for out parents every day. The faith and
integrity of this Muslim teenager challenged and in
some ways inspired me. The way she lives would be a
positive example for many Western Christians. She is
very intelligent and would like to go to university,
but doesn’t know whether her parents can afford it.
University would cost about $3000 per year, including
all course fees, accommodation, travel and living
costs. That’s cheap by New Zealand standards, but
their currency is very weak and wages low. In
Indonesia the corruption of those in power makes it
difficult for poor people to change their
circumstances. Since the economy crashed in 1997 the
sex industry has boomed. You need to be rich to get a
high-paying job.
living together [Java]
Java is an island smaller than the South Island of New
Zealand and has about 120 million inhabitants. They
need to get along, and generally they do. How would
New Zealanders react if a baby vomited in the front of
their bus? The Indonesians passed the parents their
own spare clothes and bottled water to clean it up. No
one complained about the smell or abused the parents.
The traffic is dense, but no one is in a hurry and
people in side roads can just pull out. The people
they cut off just slow down and let them in. There is
no superannuation and the elderly are generally well
looked after by their children. Children obey their
parents, respect their teachers and are seldom rude or
demanding.
There is so much more I could write but I’ve already
written 1500 words, which is essay-length, so I’ll
stop now! It was an incredible experience for me to be
able to live with locals and integrate into their
culture. The next two weeks of teachers’ college are
going to be madly busy, but life goes on! Thanks for
reading this far, sorry about the bulkness, but I
thought I’d write once and do it properly. If you have
any questions or comments feel free to get back to me.
Lots of love to you all,
David
----------------------------------------------------------------
Sam here - just mentioneing that, now that David's back, all five of our flatmates are present and accounted for.
I'm the next to leave.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
2001: A Sam Oddity (Part 1)
Because you asked for it. But first, a few caveats (possibly not an appropriate word here, but I like it, it flows. And it’s Latin). 1. My memory is not what it used to be. Actually, it might be, but I can’t remember how it used to be. Thing is, four years ago is foggy. So for those of you who know I’ve written something wrong, please speak out. 2.Those of you who were around then (Jeremy and Bing, mainly) are requested to post any thoughts about this year, either in comments or your own blogs. In fact, your impressions of me throughout that year will be most appreciated, so there’s my request! As well as those things Bing mentioned that happened ‘while I was out of it’… Heck, I challenge you two to blog about 2001 too, that’d be awesome. 3. As Bing also mentioned, lying is not an option. However, some things have to be excised from this official record for reasons of length and, er, well… and audience. Some of you know what I’m talking about, and I make no qualms about the fact that there are some things about 2001 that I do not want the internet to know. Including the things mentioned in the Prism. Some of which I maintain are not actually true, but that’s a side-issue. So please be discerning in publishing your recollections!
With that said, here goes.
The Prologue – late 2000
I did my first year at Vic in 2000. It was fun, and quite good, but at the end of it I decided (on the spur of the moment, strangely – I seem to remember being surprised at my impulsiveness) to come to Otago. I’d visited some mates (Guy, James) down here, who had showed me around (and got me very drunk), but I hadn’t planned to make the change.
So why did I go to Otago University? Three reasons (in reverse order of importance, incidentally). Firstly, although I love my parents dearly, I wanted to get out of the house and into my own place. Secondly, I wanted both the freedom to party as much as I wanted, and a culture that supported the same. Finally, I felt that where I was, living at home in the only city I’d ever called home, going to Uni, coming home after lectures… this wasn’t the student life. I needed to be a student, and you can’t do that living at home. I wanted to be surrounded by students, doing things a little… crazier. I’m sure seeing my older sister go to Otago/AUT had a little to do with it, too.
And I got my three wishes.
2001 – Carrington Hall, Otago University
Carrington Hall was my first choice. I can’t exactly remember why I chose Carrington. I think the good food was one of them, as well as having a large number of people, but still being a somewhat… clean, classy place. Coming from Wellington, going to a sleazy/seedy hall like Unicol or Cumby was a bit below me, I suppose. I think Selwyn and Arana were my second and third choices. Things could have been so different…
Aside from the aforementioned James and Guy, who were in Dunedin until 2003(ish), I had one other friend from Wellington in Dunedin, Celia. I met Celia at Vic, she was doing Psychology with me (I think she was a friend of a friend, although I can’t remember who. Turns out she lived near Bing, and knows him!). We were pretty good friends, and she was very funny… in many ways. But this isn’t about her, so I won’t go into them. Needless to say, she came to Otago the same time as me, and although she denies it, I reckon it had at least a little to do with my decision. Hehe.
But I knew no-one else, especially no-one at my hall. Actually, that’s a bit of a lie, there were a couple of people from school, but no-one I’d hang out with. Although there were two dudes at Carrington who I went to primary school with, crazily. One of them, Raz, did law with me, so I spent a bit of time with him. But I was basically starting over afresh, which was how I wanted it.
My floor at Carrington, however, was about as far from ‘fresh’ as you can get. For unknown reasons, First Floor in the Jenkins building (FFJ for short) was the only single-sex floor in the entire hall (in 2002 it became a mixed-floor). Which wouldn’t have been too bad if this didn’t have an extremely… uninhibiting effect effect on the twenty-four guys who lived therein. We became a breeding ground for disgusting behaviours and attitudes – actually, pretty much a literal breeding ground full-stop. I’m trying to think of an example that would be suitable for writing about, but I’m struggling.
Perhaps a good example would be the bathroom. WARNING: This paragraph is somewhat disturbing, although I’ve tried to keep it as un-graphic as possible. The bathroom was the site of many incidents, including a thankfully short-lived ‘open-curtain’ policy on the showers, as females were encouraged (read ‘pushed into the bathroom’) to witness. And the seldom-used bathtub becoming a public urinal. But most memorable was the exciting game of hung-over vomit-hopscotch played every single Friday, Saturday and Sunday morning-after. Which wasn’t made any easier by the cleaner’s (John!) weekend break.
It wasn’t all bad on the floor. I was allowed to take regular advantage of the single phone-line in the kitchen at the end of my hallway with my handy huge extension lead, allowing dial-up access. And the 24-person pile-ups in the hallways were sometimes amusing, as well as the boxing matches out on the patio. And there were some nice people on that floor too (actually, most of them were pretty good guys, it was the environment that bought out the worst in them)...
That's it for part 1. Part 2 will contain more about *me* and those around me... I would appreciate any memory-jogs that some people (especially Jeremy and Bing) can give me, or specific questions to right about... failing that, I'll just keep writing. 'Til next time!
P.S. I would have posted this yesterday, but we were without phone and net access for a day, so yeah.
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
“Prayer for getting bolder”
Someone found my blog by searching for that. I’ve seen some pretty interesting searches that get to my blog, but this one got my attention. Not that it led here, but that someone was searching for it. I can identify with that. That person is probably not ever going to read this, but wherever you are, may God answer your prayer.
Stop Press: I just found two more:
“Devil, you can’t make me give up now!” and “they’re not going to make me cry anymore.”
Wow.
I found out today that I get admitted to the bar on the 7th of September 2005. Seven weeks from today, twenty-six days after Profs finishes. Which is soon. The question is, what do I do for that three and a half week period? Maybe I hang out here for half of it, fly to Wellington and look for work, fly down for Admission, then drive up to Wellington soon after. I could wait a few more days and go to Design Weekend, but if I do that, I might as well stay until the Oscars. So I think I won’t. We’ll see, but I need to decide soon.
Decide.
I hate that word. :-)
Twenty comments and counting. I didn’t think you guys would go for something like that… might have to do it again some time. We’ll see. Sunshine suggested that I wouldn’t have had nearly as much comments if I didn’t list the options for you. Hehe. Here’s a rundown of the (more serious) suggestions you made:
1. Detective story, noir style x 2 – which “could even involve zombies - the detective investigates a cult raising and worshipping the living dead!!”
2. Story of the year before I got saved x 2
3. A story with exploding apple carts that, in the process of tipping over, collide with nuns fleeing from a mob of enraged librarians. (The librarians all turn into zombies, and have a party!)
4. Something I’ve never written about (incidentally, that covers most of these suggestions)
5. My opinion on… something.
6. All of the above
7. Something I know nothing about
8. The funniest/most embarrassing thing that ever happened to me
9. Best dream I ever had
10. My fears, dreams, embarrassing moments, runaway rabbits, or gangster beaver (er… what was that last one again?)
11. A fiction story about a man named officer johnson who walks the streets of Wainuiamata and every second sentence he says always has the word 'panegyric'.
12. A story about how wonderful Becs is, how her absence has created a hole in my life
13. Sport
14. Something I would really hate for my readers to know about me.
So that’s a lot of suggestions, many of them good. Many of them that I would struggle to fulfil, especially the noir/detective ideas. I mean, I could try, but it would be pretty laughable, having never read a noir/detective novel. It’s been hard choosing the ‘winning’ entry, or entries, but here’s what I’ve decided (decided!). This time around, I will write about… the story of the year before I got saved! Rah rah rah!
Of course, you’re going to have to wait until next time to read it. :-)
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Big Handbag-Carrying Brother
In my recent comment on Jeremy's blog, I mentioned that he had a lot to say, and that if he felt like he didn't (as he often does), he should ask me for some topics to talk about. So it's time for me to put my money where my mouth is, and do the same. Why? Well, despite the recent crazy-influx of readers (thanks, webring!), blogisphere participation and interest is plummeting. So this is your chance. What shall I write about? I'll choose from your comments - persuasiveness of argument and consensus will be taken into consideration.
Possible topics:
1. Something about me - my past, present, future, interests, thoughts, fears, dreams (hah!)
2. Something about someone else - you, perhaps?
3. Something about movies, or a movie, or the industry...
4. Current events
5. My opinion on something
6. A fiction story about whatever you suggest
7. A researched opinion on a topic of your choice
8. A blog written in a certain genre
9. A post that must use certain words that you mention...
10. My explanation about something that I know nothing about
11. Anything else you choose. Yes, anything.
So g'wan, inspire me. What do you want to make me write about?
EDIT - Worth a look... ugh.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Hi to any Rent fans out there!
Man, adding my name to the Rent webring has totally boosted my hits - check 'em out! I feel a bit guilty, being that this isn't technically a Rent-related site... although, now that most of my readers are Rentheads (about 35 a day, or so), perhaps I'm required to talk about it. Hmm. That's what I call selling out. So I guess I won't.
So I was lying in bed last night, reading Bill Hybels' "Courageous Leadership". Which, again, I highly recommend (c.f. my revelation a few months back from this book). Anyways, it had a chapter in it about 'spiritual pathways' - that is, a person's most effective route of interacting with God. Worship, Relational, Intellectual, Contemplatative, etc. Now, me with my whole 'struggling to communicate with God' issue, I clearly had some vested interest in discovering (or, in retrospect, rediscovering... I think we did this back in 2002) my primary pathway. Well, I was looking forward to reading this chapter. I got through reading all the pathways that were suggested, and while I identified with some of them, none of them seemed really me. So, gutted, after I finished the chapter, I put the book beside my other 9 books that I am currently reading (6 of which are also Christian) and was disappointed that I may never find my spiritual pathway.
Then it clicked, and I burst out laughing. I'm reading 10 books at the moment - OF COURSE I use the intellectual pathway! That deserves a big - ironic - 'duh!'.
But anyways, it's good to know, because I always felt a little out of place with those who really get into worship, or creation, or contemplation, etc... Fact is, I'm finally discovering that I can (sometimes) really get into prayer after reading about God in an intellectually stimulating way. Which is nice. But I'm still working on that.
On that note, I'm tempted to see 'Luther' at the movies tonight. With the Film Festival out next week (ohmygosh it's gonna rock, Abbey, I wish you were here!), the local theatres have decided, in their wisdom, to release no good movies this week. The best of the bunch is the Paris-Hilton-starring 'House of Wax'. Which will be nothing like the original 3D '50s classic. Sighness. But Luther, I want to see that. And maybe 'Mean Creek', although probably not. Need to save my movie monies.
Oh yeah, Get Smart's on right now. Tim Hall spoke last night, that was pretty good. Christine Caine tonight, and they don't need (as) many catchers for her, so I might give it a miss. Should be there tomorrow, I think.
EDIT: Okay, this is a pretty funny pic...
Monday, July 11, 2005
I just fixed my heater.
Yeah. I did. Its wheels were broken (because I sat on it - bad plan), but I replaced them with the wheels from my old heater, and now it rolls like a dream. A rolling dream. So that's my accomplishment for the day.
I've just realised something, in writing that. Since Profs - i.e. since I couldn't plan my time as I used to be able to do - I've stopped trying to make every day count. Which has had the positive effect of less stress, but the sad effect that I value my days less. As in, when people have asked me what I've been doing this week, month, whatever... nothing comes out. Not because I haven't been doing anything, that hasn't changed - but because I put less value on the things I do do. Do do. Hehe. I'm glad I've noticed that, because I'd rather feel pressured to value things more than let life pass me by. I didn't explain this very well. Too bad. :)
Time to respond to some comments, and maybe post some for posterity. Why? Because I know that I'm not going to be the last person I know who goes through this, and in the event that it comes to my attention, I'd like to be able to point 'em here. Also, a big thanks for you guys who e-mailed me, I appreciate it. :)
Aunt Donnave made a great point that is one of the strongest arguments for law - not the point that I (and my folks) spent a lot of time and dinero getting me this law degree (because that's a principle almost any 3rd-year psych student knows is fallacious in theory - although it still holds some weight), but that now (or in 4 weeks and 4 days) is the time I am going to be most employable for a first law-job. And that's also why it seems foolhardy (although tempting) to do my OE post-Profs.
Reuben's (source's) point about job satisfaction not necessarily equating with life satisfaction (okay, that's not really the point he made, but I thought it would be the most succinct way to say it. Now you've made me mess that up!) was also quite pertinent, and a good anchor to reality... but there is still a lot of weight to be given to job satisfaction, even if you're living your dream in your free time.
Jeremy's counterpoint opinion that our job defines us summed this up quite well.
I think I'll let the rest of the comments speak for themselves. I guess I'd just add that I'm not too woried about being externally defined by my employment situation, but more that I just won't enjoy what I do on either a small- or big-picture basis. As a snapshot - if I had to decide now, I would take a law job in Wellington for a year or two. In a small firm (greater work variety). But unless I'm way off-track, I don't think I'd be satisfied there - I'd constantly be wondering what else is out there. And that may well end up happening. We'll have to wait and see, yeah?
Yeah.
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"I would LOVE for all of those that I have linked to complete this-if they havent already. Do it and I will be sure to link it onto my next few posts ;-) free publicity...what more do you want?! " (Abbey, 2005).
Well, princess, your wish = my command.
1]Favorite Scent: Some kind of food... um... pizza's pretty good. No idea. Or freshly baked black forest gateaux. Mmm.
2]Favorite way to relax: My six-string babies (guitars, that is), whom I still haven't named. I'm thinking "Vera" and "Charleen".
3]Favorite movie you own: Whoa now, that's not an easy'n. It's Godfather 1 vs. 2001 for me. I'd probably choose the Godfather if I had to. Maybe.
4]Favorite movie you don't already own: Kieslowski's Dekalogue. Although it's really 10 short movies, and to be fair, I'm sure a large part of the attraction is its esotiricism.
5]Favorite male movie star: Johnny Depp's the popular choice, and with good reason, but I'm gonna hafta say it's a three-way stand-off between Robert De Niro, Al Pacino and Michael Caine. Al gets it in a pinch.
6]Favorite female movie star: Well, I've always liked Nicole Kidman. She was great in Dogville, for example. But to be honest, there's no one actress that would make me see a movie she's in. So I dunno. And yet, if you asked for 'least favourite', we'd be here for hours. Why is that?
7]Favorite book genre: Ooh, tough. Probably biographies, although I'm not too fussy.
8]Favorite clothing store: World / World Man. It's a North-Island thing.
9]Favorite non-clothing store: What's non-clothing? Hah! Just kidding, really. But gee, I dunno. One of the music/DVD stores, I guess. Or Manna.
10] Favorite cartoon character: Brak, I guess. Although Peter Griffin is sure funny.
11] Favorite CD that you own: Yeepers. At the moment, probably Bob Dylan's "World Gone Wrong", from '93.
12] Favorite CD that you don't already own: Um... well, the Live 8 CD is bound to be fantastic, if they're doing one / if they've done one.
13] Pass the torch and tag five of your blogger/lj friends: I could do that, or I could... [Sam runs away]
EDIT: [Sam runs back again] It's snowing! [Sam returns into the shadows]
Friday, July 08, 2005
A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall
This week has been odd. I've been waking up every day, and literally my first thought is usually about the Post-Profs-Period. And I think about that until I forget, or am distracted. But like a supermarket trolley with misaligned wheels, I always drift back to that train of thought. I've given this more thought than it deserves. Funnily enough, I haven't been stressed or anxious about it. Normally this'd keep me awake, but not this week. Not since that last blog. Not since I've started giving it back to God. Not since more of you have been praying for me.
I'm not sure whether "5 weeks" is scarier than "35 days".
The question of 'where' has faded back into the background, and we've swung back into the poisonous 'what'. More and more people have been saying that law would kill me. In fact, Reuben, your comment ("(And Sam, you've never struck me as the sort that would be happy spending your life at a desk. You do such a great job performing in various ways for all of us, it would be a tragedy to deny that to the rest of the world. (No, I'm not being snarky, either.) :P") was something I really needed to hear from someone, so thank you. Oh, and I'm not grateful that you said what I wanted to hear, but for saying what you believed.
Because, well, there's a conflict of interest here. I'm just using that phrase 'cos I've been studying that. But truly, law... I don't know if it interests me. Not just the deskiness of it, nor the competetiveness of it, nor the hours, but... I just don't know if it interests me. Don't get me wrong, it's still my plan to try it out for a year or two, but I passionately hope that something or someone (or Someone) will change my mind from that. And that's how I feel.
I was talking to Jane Mackay (I'm not sure how that's spelled) last night, and she studied planning, but doesn't plan do use it. She's a receptionist, and loving it. "I could do it for the rest of my life". She doesn't know how lucky she is, right? So I'm leaning a little towards escaping (eek, that's a volatile word to use) from the law field, and... I dunno. Pursue acting like my sister (Maggie and Jake, hmm?); go into film-making as a... erm... assistant cameraman? Assistant editor? I dunno. Take up bartending and do that for the rest of my life?
Shoot.
My problem is not that I don't know what I want to do, but that I don't want to settle for anything other than the best. Or is that not it? Maybe I just don't know enough options, or maybe I'm looking for something that's not there.
I *have* considered teaching English in a foreign country, quite a few times, but it just... it just doesn't seem like me.
Like law doesn't seem like me.
Monday, July 04, 2005
The return of an ol' friend...
Sadly, I'm not talking about Penny and Ekta's suprise (well, to me) visit to sunny Dunedin, although it was more than funky (yes, even Uber-Funky) to see them. No, the ol' friend is more accurately an ol' nemesis - I think I'll name him 'Future-Fear'.
But onto that in a second. First a bit of an update - there's not much going on. On the other hand, there're some fun things happening. Singstar on Saturday night with some friendly, cheeky monkeys (Esther and co.), after-church lunch on Sunday with anyone who's anyone... And, of course, Wednesday night is the two-hour finale of LOST - a sure tear-jerker. And also Andrea's dessert birthday party. How will I break it to her... :-)
Next, cleaning up some comments - my sister Gus mentioned that I don't talk about God any more, and Gus mentioned that I sound a little more upbeat. Interesting observations, and they're certainly close. I'm gonna keep you guessing for a bit, and probably tell you next time. Oh, and Gus, you were half-right about the blogger problem - but of course, Blogger won't let you edit individual post templates, so your solution didn't work. It did tip me off on how to fix it though, so, ta. I passed the solution onto Abbey. Scott and Becs talked more about the law issue, making some good points which I will let speak for themselves. I've closed the issue on my end, so unless there's any more interest in it, that's all on that from me for now.
So, my old friend. Yeah, I've suddenly started thinking about the (rapidly approaching - 6 WEEKS!) future again, and what I'm doing. I had it reasonably settled what I was going to do post-Profs (I wasn't really happy with it, but it seemded to work), which was hang around for a week or two until the end of August, then cruise up to Wellington and apply for jobs in Wellington, and work there in a law firm for at least a few years.
But suddenly I've been hit from all sides with questions and uncertainty. I found out my sister's planning on going to the States, which is so cool, but it made me realise that hey, that's kinda what I want to do. I want an adventurous job, not a paper-pushing job. I saw a bunch of blogs from people doing legal internships and junior-solicitor work, and they all hate it (for valid reasons). People have started talking to me about their job searches and options. There are TV ads for seek.co.nz (job-hunting website) all over the place; and my friends have been talking about how good that site is. I saw Hotel Rwanda this morning, and I echoed Reuben's sentiment of wanting to do something that really helps a lot of people - like work for the UN, or the Red Cross... Becs' blog mentioned fighting poverty, which of course has been all over the news. I've been thinking about my law job option, and realise I want it because it's so secure, and I can establish a home and get to know people who I can spend more than three years with, and I realise how wrong that line of thinking is for a 23 year old! I've been thinking about acting again, something I haven't seriously considered in a long time. Whether on stage, big or small screen. It would be so cool to be in, like, a TV drama or something...
And I think, God, I can't do this.
Perhaps the 'sensible' option is to stick with my plan, at least for a few years, then I can change my job. But a), we all know how hard it is for me to let go of something I've started, and b), two years is a heck of a long time. And I don't know where to go from here.
Yeah, this is just a panic attack, and I shouldn't expect to have all or any of the answers at this point. Fine. But my questions, doubts and worries are valid, and just because they're scary doesn't mean that I don't need to answer them.
Curses.
EDIT (for Kate! :-) ) - and all of that is a prime example of what happens when one take's one's eyes off God and puts them on the waves. Something that's happening a lot at the moment...