Sydney Life

National Sorry Day was last Friday - did you remember it? A massive crowd at Manning Bar certainly did!

I’ve just finished helping out with an event I couldn’t be more proud of. A good mate of mine, Jack, decided last year to stop merely talking the talk, and he began the National Sorry Day Indigenous Carnivale. It’s a big party held at Manning Bar on campus, and it was one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time. Even better, the money made on the night is going towards an indigenous mentoring program for local high school students.

If you read Cath’s terrible experiences with “Evil George The Real Estate Agent”, it’s easy to be perturbed by the thought of looking for a place to move out to. Whilst the Evil Georges of the world may scare you into staying put at home, I think the obvious solution is avoid agents all together! Which is what I did!

The verdict is in: sweat is sexy. In fact it is incredibly sexy……

Ghassan emerges from a date with himself to reflect on times when a shabby, little teddy bear said it all...

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a young single woman in Sydney must be in want of a beau...or at least, this is what her friends and relatives think...

I like to think that I am a pretty accepting guy (except when it comes to cockroaches). I hate discrimination and when I see it in society I think it is everyone's duty to bring attention to it, address the cause of the issue and help society heal the wounds of prejudice. That is why I have become a champion for a new cause, for a group of students on campus that have no voice. They walk among us, they are our friends, but to this day they carry a heavy burden of oppression. They are the superheroes of this world, the men and women who carry great power, and with that power comes great responsibility, but without support from the government or a designated space on campus.

You know when you have 38 new messages on your voicemail, a temperature of 39º C, and at least 40 “things to do” penned in your diary that things aren’t going exactly the way they should.

Yes, it’s that time of the year when first year architecture students crack. I thought it’d never come, and by the end of last week I was convinced I had survived it. Now, having spent a day in bed with A History of Western Architecture (I must be sick), going through more cups of Earl Grey than the poor Earl himself, I am willing to admit I’ve snapped – in a big way.

Now I know there’s nothing triter than hearing about other people’s sicknesses, but there’s a moral to this invalid’s story, so read on…

Powers that be suggest that, rather than writing the blogs I enjoy most (you know the type, raving, political, or just plain unusual) I must once again return to the land of “my life as a first year student”. Well, let me give you a cheerful little examination of that other life - the life of the uni student who does not *drum roll please* LIVE ON CAMPUS OR IN A SHARED HOUSE! I LIVE AT HOME WITH MY FAMILY!

I am someone who likes a challenge. There was that cute Melbourne guy in 2003, a half marathon in 2004, triathlon in 2005. Now there’s the 100km Oxfam trail walker in 2006!!

Dear Julie Cooper-Nichol,

Well, well, well...you've hooked another Newport millionaire...I can only imagine what you are going to do to this man, the next in a long line of poor, unsuspecting fools...

Yep… I’m still kicking around these traps.

Procrastination may come naturally at first but will eventually, and quickly, evolve and adapt to new environments and study habits.

It starts out as simply avoiding work but eventually becomes a point of doing work to avoid doing work.

To reach your full potential takes many many years of practice and implementation. Personally I'm not there yet but I'm well on the way to the pinnacle!

For regular readers of this blog it will be fairly obvious that I seem to be obsessed with two things: sandstone and the dramatic society. Well, this week is no different and as my brain slowly descends into a miasma of all things SUDS I’m taking you all down with me to check out what is happening with your friendly neighbourhood dramatic society.

"And as another lecture approaches,
Our brief encounter comes to a jolting halt –
Disillusioning my thoughts and
Suspending my fantasising for another day
Packed neatly away
Between text-books and course readings..."

That’s right ladies and gentlemen, it’s only a couple of days until Union elections! How exciting. I’m sure for some of you, this means absolutely nothing. In fact, I guarantee the majority of uni students won’t VOTE (which is a huge shame in my opinion. It’s one of the few times in your life when you can be assured your vote actually counts), but I for ONE will be there, bright and early at the ballot box, casting my vote.

I went to the same school as Ben Lee. Although I cannot claim that I remember him, or even spoke to him, we did indeed walk through the same gates every day for a year and would have attended the same boring school assemblies. That alone is enough of a cause for me to boast. And now I have moved on to someone bigger and better. I can now boast about a Sydney Uni law graduate for whom I have utter admiration – Mr. Tim Freedman.

We've all just got to go out there and give 110%!!

The first few weeks of uni seemed like a breeze. A few assignments, easy lecture concepts and exams were months away. Well, now that the mid-semester break is over skipping through fields of flowers time is over.
It's not as scary as it sounds but things have definitely been knocked up a notch.

Wander through any of the Union buildings on campus, park yourself outside Fisher Library or alight the train at Redfern and you'll notice a common occurrence.

Wearing brightly coloured T-shirts pledging their allegiance to their candidate, hordes of loyal followers spruik the USU hopefuls by handing out flyers and decorating the campus with their neon chalk. The Graffiti Tunnel is thick with their names, they visit our lectures, and like characters on a soap opera, for a few weeks each semester, we get to know our USU candidates.

Yep, it's election time again.

Magical place –
Where gothic towers
Superimpose city skylines;
Minds are formed,
Lives shaped.

Across the room sat a boy…

Whooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!! pretty much sums it up.