Anger is a funny word. It is no longer scary to me.
I finished the damn news story and now I have an oral presentation to do that is based on my first creative writing assignment. Then there's the Drama essay and the second creative writing assignment, following that would be the second news story and let's not forget the monologue that I have to prepare for Drama class where i'll have to go solo and lose feeling in all my fingers and toes. Oh yes, then the feature writing for Journalism and last but not least, a lovely script for Screen and Sound plus the biggest assignment for Creative Writing. Did I say all that in one breathe.
I just sound so bitter these days, I'm like a crinkled and withered prune, faded and jaded by age and experience. I need to go somewhere far away to feel a 100 years younger and better. The other day in Journalism class we had to write a very short piece about the few hours we experienced on Friday morning getting ready for the class. When I read mine out for the tutor she complimented me and said "that's very good I get a sense of stress in yours."
I didn't even mean to make my character sound stressed so I'm naturally just freaking out. What a bummer, ei?
When I think about those long summer holidays spent back home, I am envious of that carefree and lazy routine I had. Of the person that I was. I just feel different. I know I sound different. I know I am different.
Let me tell you that this sucks.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Anything Goes
I'm sitting in my room, a room I share with another girl (yes I have to share my privacy too, alert the media will ya?). I'm eating leftover mihun from lunch today. I'm still hungry. And I have to write my first ever news story which I want so badly to turn out nicely.
Today was stupid and there is no better word for it. Pointlessly and uselessly stupid. I have literally done nothing and for the first time it is not actually my fault. Ok I mean yes of course it is, but I didn't literally sit down and do nothing. If that was the case I would be feeling stupider and crappier. I was doing alot of things, but none of them proved to be actually fruitful.
Morning, 830am: I got up and woke Vivek for class. Went back to sleep and dreamt that I had already gone to the damn police station for an interview for the news story which is what I should have been doing instead of sleeping.
10.30am: Woke up again, rolled over and swore colourfully at my blanket. But no problem right, I still had time because class was only at 1.30pm.
11.30am: I am showered, changed and shot up with coffee, all ready for anything to come my way. Except for this: While packing my bag, I realize that my notebook is missing. My extremely-important, black and shiny notebook with all my class notes, research and story ideas is gone. I look everywhere in my flat and decide that if it's not here it has to be in Vivek's flat because I'm usually there half the time. It's already getting late and I still have to cook lunch so I have to go to his flat anyway, which is where all the groceries are. I do a quick search in his room, half-expecting to find it obviously, because where else would it be? It is not there. In near tears, I chop vegetables and fry some prawns and eggs. Vivek comes out and sees me distressfully making mihun. I tell him everything and he searches his room immediately but comes up with nothing. I tell him that it may be in the library when we went there on Monday late at night. He tells me that there are two of our friends already at the library so we call them and ask them to check Lost and Found. While waiting for their call, I make another call to another friend, hoping I just left it in his flat because I had been there on Monday as well. Nothing so far, and negative from the library. We eat quickly and I tell Vivek that I may have left it in my media class even though I don't remember taking any notes. We check the rooms in the building and also the Lost and Found there. I am furious with myself at this point and I tell Vivek that I have to check the library for myself. Before we get to the library I remember that I had entered the computer labs right next to the library yesterday, before Drama class. I run in there and lo and behold; my precious notebook is sitting there, in all its pink Post-Its glory and smirking at me. What a broomstick.
Afternoon,1.45pm: Search of the Big Black Notebook is over but I miss my Creative Writing workshop in all that frenzy. I console myself with the fact that I'm not missing much and this is the first tutorial that I've missed in 6weeks of university. Woo-hoo. Vivek and I return to the flat to finish our meals and I plan my next few hours; some bank work for tomorrow's rent and the visit to the police station. When I get to the Murdoch train station I find out that there's actually a bus that passes the Police Station and I am overjoyed as my original plan was to walk. The feeling doesn't last because when I get there, the station is closed. Spying a number for general inquiries, I put in a quick call to them and they tell me well, yea the office is closed and no, I can't exactly barge in and demand some time for a short interview. The lady on the line is pleasant and gives me a number for the Youth Action Team (as my story involves young offenders, or juveniles if you like). I call the YAT and they tell me that I have to put my request in writing. Well, the story's due tomorrow and no, I'm not doing last-minute work, I only had this idea to interview the police yesterday so I thought I'd give it a shot.
Evening,5.30pm: I am back in Vivek's flat and I've researched for 24-hour police stations. The one the lady recommended to me is an hour away from here by bus. I found another one though, that wasn't too far away and was on the way to Vivek's work (also, it is where the infamous secondhand bookshop is).
6.10pm: I have reached the city of Fremantle and I go on a wild search to find the police station. I pass a town hall which has a library as well and I get distracted but do an about-face and keep looking. I find the police station after awhile and again, have feelings of happiness which again don't last very long either because the lady who greets me at the counter doesn't look too certain that she can help me (let alone be allowed to even talk to me). I wait there for nearly 10minutes until she comes out with a piece of paper bearing an e-mail address to forward my queries to. I am right, she is not really supposed to talk to "the public" which is why she can't even sit down and talk to me casually about young offenders that are terrorizing the neighbourhood and getting away with it because the laws in Western Australia protect them from incarceration and a criminal record.
6.40pm: The wind blows my only cap away and the bus comes at the same time so I can't run in the streets and scream about my cap like the madperson I want to be.
As you can see, it has been a very productive day. Let me excuse myself so I can go scoop some water up with a fork. Good night ladies and gentlemen, pray that I can make myself proud in the next few hours.
Today was stupid and there is no better word for it. Pointlessly and uselessly stupid. I have literally done nothing and for the first time it is not actually my fault. Ok I mean yes of course it is, but I didn't literally sit down and do nothing. If that was the case I would be feeling stupider and crappier. I was doing alot of things, but none of them proved to be actually fruitful.
Morning, 830am: I got up and woke Vivek for class. Went back to sleep and dreamt that I had already gone to the damn police station for an interview for the news story which is what I should have been doing instead of sleeping.
10.30am: Woke up again, rolled over and swore colourfully at my blanket. But no problem right, I still had time because class was only at 1.30pm.
11.30am: I am showered, changed and shot up with coffee, all ready for anything to come my way. Except for this: While packing my bag, I realize that my notebook is missing. My extremely-important, black and shiny notebook with all my class notes, research and story ideas is gone. I look everywhere in my flat and decide that if it's not here it has to be in Vivek's flat because I'm usually there half the time. It's already getting late and I still have to cook lunch so I have to go to his flat anyway, which is where all the groceries are. I do a quick search in his room, half-expecting to find it obviously, because where else would it be? It is not there. In near tears, I chop vegetables and fry some prawns and eggs. Vivek comes out and sees me distressfully making mihun. I tell him everything and he searches his room immediately but comes up with nothing. I tell him that it may be in the library when we went there on Monday late at night. He tells me that there are two of our friends already at the library so we call them and ask them to check Lost and Found. While waiting for their call, I make another call to another friend, hoping I just left it in his flat because I had been there on Monday as well. Nothing so far, and negative from the library. We eat quickly and I tell Vivek that I may have left it in my media class even though I don't remember taking any notes. We check the rooms in the building and also the Lost and Found there. I am furious with myself at this point and I tell Vivek that I have to check the library for myself. Before we get to the library I remember that I had entered the computer labs right next to the library yesterday, before Drama class. I run in there and lo and behold; my precious notebook is sitting there, in all its pink Post-Its glory and smirking at me. What a broomstick.
Afternoon,1.45pm: Search of the Big Black Notebook is over but I miss my Creative Writing workshop in all that frenzy. I console myself with the fact that I'm not missing much and this is the first tutorial that I've missed in 6weeks of university. Woo-hoo. Vivek and I return to the flat to finish our meals and I plan my next few hours; some bank work for tomorrow's rent and the visit to the police station. When I get to the Murdoch train station I find out that there's actually a bus that passes the Police Station and I am overjoyed as my original plan was to walk. The feeling doesn't last because when I get there, the station is closed. Spying a number for general inquiries, I put in a quick call to them and they tell me well, yea the office is closed and no, I can't exactly barge in and demand some time for a short interview. The lady on the line is pleasant and gives me a number for the Youth Action Team (as my story involves young offenders, or juveniles if you like). I call the YAT and they tell me that I have to put my request in writing. Well, the story's due tomorrow and no, I'm not doing last-minute work, I only had this idea to interview the police yesterday so I thought I'd give it a shot.
Evening,5.30pm: I am back in Vivek's flat and I've researched for 24-hour police stations. The one the lady recommended to me is an hour away from here by bus. I found another one though, that wasn't too far away and was on the way to Vivek's work (also, it is where the infamous secondhand bookshop is).
6.10pm: I have reached the city of Fremantle and I go on a wild search to find the police station. I pass a town hall which has a library as well and I get distracted but do an about-face and keep looking. I find the police station after awhile and again, have feelings of happiness which again don't last very long either because the lady who greets me at the counter doesn't look too certain that she can help me (let alone be allowed to even talk to me). I wait there for nearly 10minutes until she comes out with a piece of paper bearing an e-mail address to forward my queries to. I am right, she is not really supposed to talk to "the public" which is why she can't even sit down and talk to me casually about young offenders that are terrorizing the neighbourhood and getting away with it because the laws in Western Australia protect them from incarceration and a criminal record.
6.40pm: The wind blows my only cap away and the bus comes at the same time so I can't run in the streets and scream about my cap like the madperson I want to be.
As you can see, it has been a very productive day. Let me excuse myself so I can go scoop some water up with a fork. Good night ladies and gentlemen, pray that I can make myself proud in the next few hours.
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