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March 2006

It’s probably because everyone at my house has already gone to bed. and when I’m up by myself things tend to go weird, but bloody hell...

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It’s official, I am an ignoramus!! I feel utterly embarrassed that until this week, I have never ever heard of the state of West Papua. This is coming from me, Keren, who likes to flip to the world news of the newspaper every morning whilst eating her raisin toast with cottage cheese and drinking her V8 juice. I even occasionally read TIME magazine!!

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Statistically, there are more people born in the world that are right-handed then left, but what about that minority who are born with two left feet?

I am referring to people who lack sheer co-ordination and those other upper level skills that are required to perform a series of steps in sequence AND in time...let alone in harmony with another individual. I am talking about me.

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A few weeks ago, a few friends and I were trying to decide which of the Desperate Housewives we all were.

C was easy - Bree van de Kamp, even she admitted it.

And M told us we'd better label her a Lynette, if only because her husband is such hot stuff.

But when it came to me, we were all a little unstuck. Someone regrettably mentioned Mary Alice, to which I replied that I'd read The Bell Jar, and I know how it all ends.

I wasn't Gabrielle, certainly. Nor was I the scary new neighbour who seems to wear pyjamas (or kaftan-type clothing oddly resembling pyjamas) all the time.

One of us suggested Susan, the ditzy, klutz-like one. I shook my head and laughed: pfft, I'm sooooo not ditzy and klutz-like.

After this weekend, however, I understand what my friends meant. Susan, you are my home girl.

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Another aspect of leaving school everyone seems to forget to mention - sport. It's harder, faster and the opposition is a-hell-of alot bigger! Not to mention that it's now four days later and I'm still really sore.

Then there are those guys who are just simply crazy and seem to have endless energy and never get drilled or tire.

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My absolute favourite thing about Uni is the Dramatic Society. I have been involved in it since halfway through first year, and thanks to it I have made most of my friends and become more active on campus. If you were involved in theatre or drama in high school then you are gonna love it.

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Being 17 at Uni kind of sucks. I’ve only been here a month and have so far missed out on the Psyche pub crawl (as well as their weekly drinks), Beachball, and the 90s dance party (which I actually turned up to, dressed in my high school uniform... it was a picture of true sadness). So now that I'm finally about to turn 18, I'm just enjoying the last little dregs of being a kid. Twelve hours left!

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Today's "Sam and the City" column in the Sydney Morning Herald talks about a new trend for young, single people in the city to live together in "urban tribes" well into their thirties. According to the brain-child of the term, Ethan Watters, we're not 'settling down' as much anymore but deciding to live with friends who are becoming our new family.

Source: http://blogs.smh.com.au/samandthecity/archives/2006/03/are_friends_the.html.

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Someone once told me that Tuesdays are a horrible way to spend one-seventh of your life, and but for the great TV viewing (I hope we're all on the same page here), I tend to agree.

Last Tuesday (or is it this Tuesday? In any case, I mean the Tuesday of two days ago) I went to the Careers Colussus, and though I didn't find a job, I did notice a few oddities about graduate employers that I thought I'd impart to you...

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For a college kid, the concept of actually working at uni can seem a little foreign. Ok, really foreign. But even for us the day comes when O-Week (O-Month?... four weeks is a month, isn’t it?!) finally ends and the realisation hits us that we’ll actually have to sit down and do something other than drink (i.e. open a book and start reading it). Sadly for me, that day was today…

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This is going to be one of those kvetching (Yiddish for whining but sounds much cooler) blogs where I am going to write about how unfair life is (all things being relative – I really do appreciate the fact that I don’t live in poverty in Africa where I would either be foraging for food or have AIDS, or both.) It is about my uni lifestyle….which is kind of non existent due to the full time practical component of the physio course.

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“So, it’s my third week, and my lecturer hasn’t turned up sober once!” – Not true, readers, but I couldn’t resist the temptation. I can, however, stress that lectures can be tough, and for the uninitiated (myself obviously) they take time to get used to. Welcome to the world that is Wallace Theatre.

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Remember the childhood song about the doggy in the window? "Oh where, oh where could he be?" Well I'm sorry to put a dampener on everyone's spirits but these days that cute puppy is no longer in that shop window, or even in the owner's care. No. I'll tell you where you can more likely find him...

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Yep folks, this week's game: Marissa, Summer or Kirsten?

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An invitation to attend a lecture given by the American Secretary of State, Condoleezza Rice was more problematic than you would first imagine. Does the fact that I take issue with her actions and those of the administration she represents mean that I should have politely declined?

Let's not beat arond the bush here (no pun intended), there was never any chance that I was going to refuse. Does that make me a sell out? Maybe. However, It's not as if the absence of the extremely un-eminent Tim was going to be any skin off her nose. I began to see it as an opportunity to see one of the most powerful women in the world and hear what she had to say for herself and her actions. What ensued was an insight into her truth, freedom and American way.

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My cousin and I went to stay at our grandfather’s place in the holidays last year, and every morning was the same ordeal. After about twenty “five more minutes”s, she yanked my doona off and promptly walked out of the room with it in tow, to which I responded by curling up in her bed. Apparently. I don’t actually remember most of this happening.

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Dr Condoleeza Rice, the first African-American female US Secretary of State, is a facinating public person and an enigma to most. I've heard her referred to as "The Most Powerful Woman in the World", "The Neo-Wicked Witch of the West" and "The Right-Wing Oprah". See what happened when she came to speak to 300 students at Sydney University's Conservatorium of Music...

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In case any of you have been waiting eagerly by your laptops and PCs, for the next installment of the epic drama that is my life, fear not. I have plenty of drama to share with you - but most of it does not concern me.

You see, my esteemed friends, when one reaches a state of academic nausea (such as I did on Monday), one turns to other comforts. When the book is too much to bear, the fridge becomes a source of joy. Food suddenly takes hours to prepare, making it difficult, nay, impossible, to get any work done. Moreover, daytime television seems fresh and innovative, and demands many of your waking hours.

And then, there is the very, very dangerous habit of becoming addicted to one television show in particular...and devising for yourself a little game that, likewise, preoccupies many of your waking hours...

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Sorry guys and girls, but I feel the need to have a little rant. Just to calm myself down. It’s been…one of those days. And what, pray tell, brought me to this unfortunate situation? Zealots. That’s right – zealots.

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I've just returned home from a really bad date. That's the second date to add to my list of "Worst Dates Ever"...

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Most people have a delusion that physios must be nice people because they help people get better. Or at least try. Ask the patients on the orthopaedic ward and I think they would rather describe physios as sadistic aggressive bullies!!

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Everyone at uni seems to be obsessed with time. There seems to be a lack of it so to make up for this they've made up little seminars for time management. One of my lectures explained it this way...

There are 168 hours in a week, you attend uni for around 25 (depending on the degree, arts is much, much less) and are expected to match that in private study. That leave 118 hours of you're own time. and as he said, "you guys don't sleep anyway so you've got virtually endless time to do what you want."

Well like a lot of people, especially first year and college students, keeping track of time is just as hard as keeping track of money.

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The morning after. Don't we all know about that. Whether you regret how much you drank, how much you spent, what you didn't achieve or who you ended up with........ it doesn't seem to cros your mind until it's too late.

Well, right now my regret is astronomical...... and it's the same night!!!! Two words explain it "Fresher Haircuts".

Sore scalp for me and worried mind and sore eyes for those looking at me, are the reslts of a very spontaneous decision.

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Early February - Cath and friends go to find a house to live in. They find a fine new home which has almost been completely built. Come and see what adventures happen next!

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Phew, I survived my first week! Here is my newbie’s run down of the differences between Uni and High School life, though I’m sure there is still PLENTY more to discover.

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The statue is a rare and mythical beast whose long and magnificent history is the envy of less hardy and interior based objects such as bars of soap. Come, gentle reader as I take you on a tour of some of the most interesting specimens in their natural habitat.

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The optimistic architect, on any other day, would see every glass half empty as half full. Not today. Today Australia mourns the loss of one of its most prolific architects, Harry Seidler, who died yesterday morning here in Sydney aged 82, following a stroke last year. An architect loved by architects the world over, Seidler leaves an indelible legacy. He was misunderstood (hated?) by much of mainstream Australia, and perhaps herein lays the true sadness of his passing…

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The first week of uni, like any typical 'first', is generally a disappointment. (Yeah, you know what kinds of 'firsts' I mean...we don't need to draw pictures...)

My first week of my fourth year (seventh semester, going strong!) has been just that. I'm sorry. You want to hear how great I feel to be back on the unicycle (to use a Brendon-ism), how inspired I am to start again, and how hard I've been studying.

If you expected all this, then I'm afraid, much like my first week, this post will be a slice from the Let-Me-Down pie...

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O-week. It's fun, exciting and for some, pretty boozy. But unfortunately it aint free! So now I, along with many others ,find my self pennyless as the pennies I did have, have burnt a hole right through my pocket.........

But now I'm required to buy text books!!

So now I give to you all FREE advice. Good, real life, not to be missed, advice.

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“The best things in life are free, but you can give them to the birds and the bees, I want money! That’s what I want!” Or so the song goes. Although it may not be strictly true, I certainly am strapped for cash.

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For however long you’ll be at Sydney Uni, you’re bound to become tangled in the finicky world of student administration. Here are some tips on making sure you get the right answers from the right people

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I have few regrets in my life. Keeping the tragic but-oh-so-fashionable-in-the 80’s fringe in year 7 is one of them. Not joining up to the capoeira club in O-week in first year is another.

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WOW!

7 Mar

Does anybody remeber people saying that uni is really really different from school?

They were right.

If anyone tries telling you different stop being their friend 'cause they're LIARS. There may be a few similarities, like people from school go to uni or the fact that you learn stuff, but it ends there.

But these aren't bad differences it just takes time to get used to them.

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The holidays are always so much more interesting when you’ve got homework or something else unpleasant to do, because you begin to realise the potential fun in almost any situation; you know, like watching midday soaps, dusting the entire house, and my personal favourite, tuning out from the cruel world and finding inner peace by staring at the wall for a couple of hours.

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It's Oscar night, it's Oscar night!

Herald the arrival of primadonnas with princely budgets, of weepy speeches that will no doubt be your legacy to showbiz (are you listening, Gwyneth?), of botox and butt-wiggling down the red carpet....

All hail the stars of today as they sashay into the Kodak Theatre, in Hollywood, to enact all my childhood fantasies for my 21st (and their 78th) year...

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After a few more days of college life under my belt i'm starting to get things sorted. My room is still absolutely trashed and my computer is dead but life is falling into place.

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It took me a while but i've finally made it. I've already had two nights at college...some wild wild times.

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It's not in the tradition of freshers to divulge the pleasures and pains of their much cherished O-Week, but for the benefit of the uninitiated, tradition can and will be broken…

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What a day! It’s been fun, it’s been scary, it’s been simply confusing at times, yes, that’s right – it’s the first day of O week. I don’t really know what to say – I think I’m stunned like a mullet (the fish that is, not the hairdo). I’ll try and give you a comprehensive rundown of the day (or, given the state I’m in, perhaps the best you can hope for is a comprehensible run down!) but if I fail, please don’t lynch me.

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