Ahhh, the heady days of an idealistic seventeen-year-old as she plans her life (if you've read Paris Hilton's latest tome, apparently one can have infinite wisdom at such a ripe old age!) Yep, when I was a first year student here, I thought I knew it all, including where I would end up after my degree. You can feel a twist in this story, can't you?
At the end of Year 12, I had to make a speech on behalf of my graduating class. In it, I had to say a little about myself and my years at the College. Then I had to make some brief but perfunctory reference to my ambitions. For me, they were not so much ambitions as plans set in stone.
So that night, I told about 500 people that I wanted to be a sports journalist.
Strange, considering I was the girl who tried to long-jump off two feet, and was so bad at netball the other team used to throw me the ball, knowing they'd get it back just as easily.
Sure, I kind of liked to watch sport, and I had written for my local newspaper and for the school's. I'd been a mad Manly Sea Eagles fan for as long as I could remember, and my love of the Sydney Swans was unwavering. But then there were all those other sports - what were they again? Cricket - ugh. A bunch of old guys in horribly unfashionable whites trying to bat at a ball all day? Boring. And swimming - what an arbitrary sport: why would you want to race up and down a pool all day, just to see who was the fastest? Very immature, I thought. And don't get me started on golf...
Still, I headed into the Bachelor of Arts (Media and Communications) with one career in mind. I was so excited, too. I pictured myself as the female version of Tony Squires (please do not laugh too much at this point. Spare a thought for me, as this is, sadly, a true story..) I even applied for work experience at a major Sydney newspaper, and when I was accepted, I eagerly went to the sports desk every morning, waiting for the killer assignment that never came.
My expectations of life as a sports journalist were grossly over-estimated. On the bright side, though, it restored my faith in my own imagination! As the year progressed, my ambitions were examined and I came to realise that, not only would I probably never get to interview Barry Hall, but also that this would hardly sustain a career, even if my dream did come true. And, to add insult to my considerable injury, I (in typical Lauren fashion) began to feel a bit bored by pigeon-holing myself into one career path.
Throughout that year, though, I was also studying some Arts electives. History, English, French, Asian Studies and Philosophy, to be precise. And, contrary to my own desires, I actually really loved them! So at the end of my first year, I decided to transfer degrees, to a Bachelor of Arts.
Now, when most people transfer, they transfer to a degree that required a higher UAI than they received in the HSC. I did the reverse, but I don't regret it at all! I'm doing a degree that I adore, and that I'm much better at! It was definitely the right decision for me, though it did take me a bit of time to get there.