Good Ol’ Good Intentions

Hello! Welcome!

I empathise with any of you currently experiencing the nervous pangs of the unknown; wading your way through the mire of enrolment, timetables, fees, and negotiating your life around this new chapter.

One year ago, pretty much to the day, I was in a similar state and had more than the dread of being a new student weighing my shoulders down (along with those four freakin text books). You see, I belong to a small group of ‘outsiders’; those who walk the corridors, usually at night, but sometimes infiltrate day classes, inflicting seriousness and cardigans on fellow students, not to mention questions on teachers and admin staff. Yes, I belong to one of the most marginalised minorities that exists on a university campus, No, not the self-harming goth socialist poet scientists, not the Ibis eating out of the bins, but the…..Mature-Aged Student (dah dah DAHHHHHHHHHHHHH).

Yes. I’m the grumpy chick sitting down the front of lectures giving you dirty looks every time you talk in class. I’m the chick that gets dressed in the morning with the logic that ‘it’s just uni and therefore no pride of dress or self is required’. I’m the one that puts the admin chick in the Business building in a bad mood before you arrive. I TAKE INITIATIVE IN GROUP WORK! ”Argh!” They all squeal.

It has been a bumpy transition back into the world of education, after an eleven year hiatus. But now into my second year I can see the light and I am proud of what I’ve achieved so far. Let’s not discuss Data Analysis right now, though.

Hopefully my perspective can help other MAS’s, but also translate for the majority of students. Read on to see how it’s going so far…

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A logical excuse.

Greetings! A great big hello from the hallways of high school!

For my very first post I thought I might get off my chest what has been on 168 girls’ minds for the past 8 months. I am currently sitting in my spare class at school in our fantastic library (design based on QUT’s very own library) and stressing. Not about school and my three assignments, or even about my uni work due next week, but about this Saturday. What do the steady ins and outs of formalwear shops and boys walking about with suit bags and girls frolicking around with bags of shoes and clutches and jewellery mean? FORMAL SEASON! Now for most people over the age of 40 this is a bizarre and nonsensical phenomenon where girls spend their yearly wage on a dress they will hardly ever wear and endure the gruelling pains of high-heeled travel for far too many hours. However for those in their twenties or even thirties, this mass hysteria over matching ties and ‘how do I tell him I want a corsage!?’ Even though you don’t want one you just like the idea, is a glittery, sparkling, hair-sprayed blast from the past.

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Itchy Feet

Hey, my name’s Jay, and I’ve never written a blog before, so be gentle yeah? I kind of feel like the whole concept of a blog is a bit self indulgent. Writing 1000 words in a stream of consciousness isn’t something that is generally within my comfort zone. But then again I’m a Fine Arts student, so what the hell do I know.

I’m in my third year of a double degree in a Bachelor of Fine Arts/Bachelor of Business. I kind of feel like third year is the grade ten of university – you know your way around, but you definitely aren’t the big dog around the place yet. You’ve been here long enough to know you should do your homework, but savvy enough to know that you’ll scrape a pass even if you don’t do it. You know the toilet cubicles in Z block have some pretty hilarious graffiti conversations. And you know it’s only going to get more hectic between now and graduating.

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