I am back from the dead, where creatures sleep deeply and crack dens become living rooms so comfy. I’m not gonna say I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been around these virtual woods for a while. The thing I hate most about irregular bloggers is how apologetic they become when they don’t post. It’s okay if you are a blogger and you take a break. Okay? Sometimes life happens in excessive amounts. It’s a rare occurrence, but it happens. They are times of quiet desperation. Or absolute bliss.
I came back from my overseas travels and straight into a bright, sunny QUT morning. It was a little surreal. Life is so different across the globe. I tried to cope with the change and listen to the monotone (albeit interesting) tone of my Australian Art History teacher. I came home with pages and pages of notes. I immersed myself in the teachings of Greg Jenkins. I listened to an inexcusable amount of No Age. I got a job at an independent Italian supermarket. I started crying at night – more than the usual, healthy girl amount. I cried in the morning a few times too. Next thing I knew, I’d started hating life.
So I packed my bags and sold my furniture and booked a VIP flight for my cat to Latin America. I quit my job and my band and deferred my degree. I told everybody I was leaving. I had two weeks to spare. I was about ninety-five per cent convinced this was it. My journey as an Australian citizen was going to take a huge hiatus, and I was comfortable with that. I was willing to let it all go and start a degree from scratch in Brazil. Two weeks.
Have you ever watched Risky Business? Think the sliding sock-and-underwear scene with Tom Cruise. Yep, hot imagery. Basically what happens in the movie though, is that Tom’s character Joel gets into Standford by running a brothel in his house while his parents are away being rich and all. The moral of the story is that you can still get into an Ivy League school by being a pimp. No, I mean – I think it’s saying, you can be a bit of a bad dog and still land something awesome in your life. And this means you shouldn’t be a pussy about the future. As Joel’s sly friend Miles sagely describes in this scene of the movie:
Two weeks passed. I didn’t open a brothel in my house but I got a job at a café. I started making armbands and writing music. My band got all sorts of amazing feedback and we booked all these shows with upcoming bands until the end of the year. I met some really cool people. I stopped crying. I felt like these good things didn’t have to stop happening if I didn’t want them to. I understood things can’t be great all the time. Life is a bell curve. <– brought to you by Alice The Philosopher
So I stayed in Brisbane.
So now I’m not at QUT but still at QUT if you know what I mean. I still have full access to the library and that alone makes me a happy cat. I’m contemplating a grown-up job until I go back to full-time study next year. It so happens I’m a qualified TAFE fashion chick, and the other day I was browsing the net and saw this entry-level job as a garment technician in Brisb-city. I’m getting all my qualifications together and attempting to type out the cover letter of my life to get their attention. My housemate who is a Human Resources officer is of course helping.
I’m not promising anything, but we’ll see hey. All this freedom is making me feel pretty good.
Note to the reader: please do not attempt any of this at home. This is should not encourage you to drop out in the leastest, unless of course you have five to ten very good reasons. In which case you should drop out and owe nothing to no one, that is apart from your Mum who brought you into this world and has every right to know why you seem to be living the life of a beatnik deadbeat.
“By nature, men are nearly alike; by practice, they get to be wide apart.” – Confucius, The Confucian Analects