A couple of things:
I decided not to try for a journalism traineeship this year; Japan beckons. I had a first round interview, which went reasonably well, but I just can't make the transition between student and worker without being elsewhere first, and the interviewers were understanding. One amusing/embarrassing interview moment: I asked whether it was true that a couple of trainees this year had quit (going on what a friend had told me) and received a flat 'no'. Face saving, backpedaling and diversionary tactics ensued. (Bad source of information, I say, reddening slightly). One tip they gave: pay attention to pop culture this year (noticing the large hole in my knowledge). Good tip, hard to follow. I just don't seem to be able to care about celebrity culture/reality TV/ any TV at all. I'll have to take night classes. Or I could just ask Mel. Anyway, I applied to teach English as a gaijin the same day. I'm glad I made this decision
---
I finally met Guy Symposiast in the flesh after following the blog he shares with Elanor for quite a while. We had one of those slightly awkward social moments of the oh-so-you're-the-flesh-version that only the internet can create.
-----
After searching five music shops, finally I have laid my hands on Prefuse 73's One Word Extinguisher. And god , was it worth the frustration and effort. A wonderful mixture of electro and hip hop without pretension, clever, catchy, danceable. I'm only a year late in getting onto it, which is good for me.
----
I'm seemingly the last blogger in Australia to pick up on Pandagate (an amusing come-uppance for the Young Liberals who delighted in attempting to derail our Farrago last year). You can follow it at robertcorr.net if you like. I'm late to the table because I don't really care anymore. The one thing a year in student union politics has taught me is that politics is a horrible, horrible profession and should be stopped. If the people involved in union politics achieve their dreams and hit the big league after reaching a critical mass of machinations and backstabbing, we are doomed. No, really. Politics makes people ridiculous caricatures of themselves, in the same way that love does, but in a much less pleasant way. Presumably, it's a thrill to those involved, but give me a love life any day. (Dose of cynicism gleaned from sleeping in our office last year to defend it from marauding union politicians and their private security guards). One thing that I did find interesting is the crossover between bloggers and the mainstream press; Pandagate drew in our defender of all that is right and true, Andrew Bolt himself, and the whole explosion was sparked by an Age story. And I thought that was confined to the US.
While bitching about politics, I read recently that Peter Beattie took the Queensland opposition leader along to an innovation conference in the interest of creating a bipartisan approach to Queensland, the Smart State. Now, that is sadly rare in Australian politics. Why don't we plump for the European consensus model of politics? Australian society has diversified/fragmented enough to make it possible, I reckon. Yes, it makes reporting politics more difficult, and following politics almost impossible, but it's a better model all round; moving away from confrontation politics to negotiation politics. Rather than two monolithic parties vying for control (a duopoly), why not a multitude of smaller parties coming together on occasion and then splitting off, to create a better approximation of democracy (the free market competition thing). We hint at it in the Senate, but not down below, where the Bills come from. The only Coalitions we get in Australia are city Liberals and country Liberals (although they like to be called the Nationals). But if Howard does away with compulsory voting as looks likely, he'll emasculate Labor's vote and entrench conservatism forevermore, unless Labor gets all jiggy with the Greens and remnant Democrats. Even then, I doubt there are enough lefties in Australia to swing an election. While I had thought that ditching compulsory voting would - as it does in uni elections - result in only those were passionate about issues voting, which would exclude many status-quo conservatives, apparently the opposite would occur. The leftovers of the working class and ethnic minorities wouldn't vote out of apathy, or a failure to realise that their interests are better served by voting, as in the US, and representatives of conservative white suburbia would rule. So maybe that'll force the rapid Australian uptake of coalition politics. Actually, I suppose you could consider the ALP a coalition already, what with the warring left and right wings who occasionally come together.
----
I've realised that what I wanted to do with this blog was create something a little voyeuristic, something you feel a little guilty reading but read it anyway. Why? Cos I love the snatches of other people's conversation in the street or in a bar that waft to me; I love small pieces of paper that people have doodled on and left in trains; I love sampling other people's lives, so I feel I should give something voyeuristic back. Utterly selfless, I know, but that's just how I am. Hah.
So, towards that end, here's another dose of disclosure. The six boys in my house started the year almost entirely single; one has been in a long termer the whole year, but the rest of us were free. But gradually, one by one, they succumbed to the lure of monogamy, veering away from singletopia until there was only R. and I left; R's singledom can be explained by his US citizenship and exchange-student status, whereas mine, well, I don't have any excuse. Perhaps it's the fear of being broadcast live to air on serepax. Anyhow, we were stalwartly and sadly single, and spent many hours bewailing this fact during the last few weeks of study. But then it happened - as if from nowhere, a veritable string of dates appeared on R's social calendar. It seriously happened overnight, which boosts my theory of dating cycles - when you're hot, you're hot and when you're not, you are not. Clearly, I am currently not attractive to girls at present (no pheronomes?), whereas R is definitely hot. No surprise, really - he is hot, in every sense, and is here for a limited-time-only, whereas despite being voted Mr. Marriageable a couple of years ago by a gaggle of girls who are friends with J's sister (hey, I'll take whatever kudos I can get), it is not my time to shine. Needless to say, this has prompted a massive wave of jealousy on my behalf, which has not been helped by R's tendency to gloat and wear smug smiles all day. So now I am isolated and alone in my singledom, while the rest of the house swans around wreathed in the grins of certainty, walking with the support of whatever stage of love or lust they're immersed in. Fuckers.
This unfortunate turn of events has not been helped by the repeated appearance of a certain person from earlier this year; see, I was half-dating someone who'd half-broken up with her boy, she returned to him, we became friends and the story would end there, except for her returned boyfriend's astonishing ability to turn up anywhere I am and turn me into a blithering mess. I am not good at these situations, and the most recent one - in which I was talking to her outside the uni library, waiting for a downpour to stop when he materialised and trapped me against the wall. I wanted to run but was stopped by the vertical wall of water falling outside and I fidgeted frantically until I decided it was worth getting wet to flee.
I know he's not terrifying, I know he doesn't desire my giblets, I know he's over it, but good god, if he keeps just APPEARING like that, I'll age prematurely or have a small breakdown. I will, I promise. I can feel it. I really can. It reminds me of first year, when I somehow became friendly with a guy who came from the Count Dracula region in Romania and one time I played squash with him, his girlfriend arrived and he proceeded to SUCK ON HER NIPPLE while looking at me and I escaped that particular little situation and was desperately looking for someone, anyone, to tell about it and when I did and began to unload, what happened but he was right behind me, when I had almost run across the entire campus willy-nilly and must have overheard. That was freaky. This is also freaky. God is punishing me for something. Rather than smite me, which would waste energy or something, the Almighty is being sneaky and giving said boyfriend super powers as long as he uses them to make my life a nervous hell. Nowhere is safe. Nowhere.
I decided not to try for a journalism traineeship this year; Japan beckons. I had a first round interview, which went reasonably well, but I just can't make the transition between student and worker without being elsewhere first, and the interviewers were understanding. One amusing/embarrassing interview moment: I asked whether it was true that a couple of trainees this year had quit (going on what a friend had told me) and received a flat 'no'. Face saving, backpedaling and diversionary tactics ensued. (Bad source of information, I say, reddening slightly). One tip they gave: pay attention to pop culture this year (noticing the large hole in my knowledge). Good tip, hard to follow. I just don't seem to be able to care about celebrity culture/reality TV/ any TV at all. I'll have to take night classes. Or I could just ask Mel. Anyway, I applied to teach English as a gaijin the same day. I'm glad I made this decision
---
I finally met Guy Symposiast in the flesh after following the blog he shares with Elanor for quite a while. We had one of those slightly awkward social moments of the oh-so-you're-the-flesh-version that only the internet can create.
-----
After searching five music shops, finally I have laid my hands on Prefuse 73's One Word Extinguisher. And god , was it worth the frustration and effort. A wonderful mixture of electro and hip hop without pretension, clever, catchy, danceable. I'm only a year late in getting onto it, which is good for me.
----
I'm seemingly the last blogger in Australia to pick up on Pandagate (an amusing come-uppance for the Young Liberals who delighted in attempting to derail our Farrago last year). You can follow it at robertcorr.net if you like. I'm late to the table because I don't really care anymore. The one thing a year in student union politics has taught me is that politics is a horrible, horrible profession and should be stopped. If the people involved in union politics achieve their dreams and hit the big league after reaching a critical mass of machinations and backstabbing, we are doomed. No, really. Politics makes people ridiculous caricatures of themselves, in the same way that love does, but in a much less pleasant way. Presumably, it's a thrill to those involved, but give me a love life any day. (Dose of cynicism gleaned from sleeping in our office last year to defend it from marauding union politicians and their private security guards). One thing that I did find interesting is the crossover between bloggers and the mainstream press; Pandagate drew in our defender of all that is right and true, Andrew Bolt himself, and the whole explosion was sparked by an Age story. And I thought that was confined to the US.
While bitching about politics, I read recently that Peter Beattie took the Queensland opposition leader along to an innovation conference in the interest of creating a bipartisan approach to Queensland, the Smart State. Now, that is sadly rare in Australian politics. Why don't we plump for the European consensus model of politics? Australian society has diversified/fragmented enough to make it possible, I reckon. Yes, it makes reporting politics more difficult, and following politics almost impossible, but it's a better model all round; moving away from confrontation politics to negotiation politics. Rather than two monolithic parties vying for control (a duopoly), why not a multitude of smaller parties coming together on occasion and then splitting off, to create a better approximation of democracy (the free market competition thing). We hint at it in the Senate, but not down below, where the Bills come from. The only Coalitions we get in Australia are city Liberals and country Liberals (although they like to be called the Nationals). But if Howard does away with compulsory voting as looks likely, he'll emasculate Labor's vote and entrench conservatism forevermore, unless Labor gets all jiggy with the Greens and remnant Democrats. Even then, I doubt there are enough lefties in Australia to swing an election. While I had thought that ditching compulsory voting would - as it does in uni elections - result in only those were passionate about issues voting, which would exclude many status-quo conservatives, apparently the opposite would occur. The leftovers of the working class and ethnic minorities wouldn't vote out of apathy, or a failure to realise that their interests are better served by voting, as in the US, and representatives of conservative white suburbia would rule. So maybe that'll force the rapid Australian uptake of coalition politics. Actually, I suppose you could consider the ALP a coalition already, what with the warring left and right wings who occasionally come together.
----
I've realised that what I wanted to do with this blog was create something a little voyeuristic, something you feel a little guilty reading but read it anyway. Why? Cos I love the snatches of other people's conversation in the street or in a bar that waft to me; I love small pieces of paper that people have doodled on and left in trains; I love sampling other people's lives, so I feel I should give something voyeuristic back. Utterly selfless, I know, but that's just how I am. Hah.
So, towards that end, here's another dose of disclosure. The six boys in my house started the year almost entirely single; one has been in a long termer the whole year, but the rest of us were free. But gradually, one by one, they succumbed to the lure of monogamy, veering away from singletopia until there was only R. and I left; R's singledom can be explained by his US citizenship and exchange-student status, whereas mine, well, I don't have any excuse. Perhaps it's the fear of being broadcast live to air on serepax. Anyhow, we were stalwartly and sadly single, and spent many hours bewailing this fact during the last few weeks of study. But then it happened - as if from nowhere, a veritable string of dates appeared on R's social calendar. It seriously happened overnight, which boosts my theory of dating cycles - when you're hot, you're hot and when you're not, you are not. Clearly, I am currently not attractive to girls at present (no pheronomes?), whereas R is definitely hot. No surprise, really - he is hot, in every sense, and is here for a limited-time-only, whereas despite being voted Mr. Marriageable a couple of years ago by a gaggle of girls who are friends with J's sister (hey, I'll take whatever kudos I can get), it is not my time to shine. Needless to say, this has prompted a massive wave of jealousy on my behalf, which has not been helped by R's tendency to gloat and wear smug smiles all day. So now I am isolated and alone in my singledom, while the rest of the house swans around wreathed in the grins of certainty, walking with the support of whatever stage of love or lust they're immersed in. Fuckers.
This unfortunate turn of events has not been helped by the repeated appearance of a certain person from earlier this year; see, I was half-dating someone who'd half-broken up with her boy, she returned to him, we became friends and the story would end there, except for her returned boyfriend's astonishing ability to turn up anywhere I am and turn me into a blithering mess. I am not good at these situations, and the most recent one - in which I was talking to her outside the uni library, waiting for a downpour to stop when he materialised and trapped me against the wall. I wanted to run but was stopped by the vertical wall of water falling outside and I fidgeted frantically until I decided it was worth getting wet to flee.
I know he's not terrifying, I know he doesn't desire my giblets, I know he's over it, but good god, if he keeps just APPEARING like that, I'll age prematurely or have a small breakdown. I will, I promise. I can feel it. I really can. It reminds me of first year, when I somehow became friendly with a guy who came from the Count Dracula region in Romania and one time I played squash with him, his girlfriend arrived and he proceeded to SUCK ON HER NIPPLE while looking at me and I escaped that particular little situation and was desperately looking for someone, anyone, to tell about it and when I did and began to unload, what happened but he was right behind me, when I had almost run across the entire campus willy-nilly and must have overheard. That was freaky. This is also freaky. God is punishing me for something. Rather than smite me, which would waste energy or something, the Almighty is being sneaky and giving said boyfriend super powers as long as he uses them to make my life a nervous hell. Nowhere is safe. Nowhere.
posted by Doug @ 11/14/2004 06:07:00 pm
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