How do you begin a blog post after not writing for close to 12 months? Damned if I know, but here we go.
In just over a week’s time I will be 21. The most daunting anniversary of my birth that has so far occurred. It has also now been 12 months since I finished University. How time flies and all of that.
It’s a good time to reflect, I think, on what I have achieved and where I want to go. I am content, or as content as I ever am, with where I am at this point in my life. With a degree, a passion and a grown-ass relationship. There are still things that I want to add to that list; a career that inspires me, to be better travelled, to be more at peace with myself. But they will either come or they won’t.
I have spent the last 12 months largely devoted to the one project. One that has taken me a countless number of hours, arguably unhealthy quantities of chocolate, 75,000 words and over 300 pages to complete. When I began I never dreamed that it was something that I could actually finish. But I did. Sometimes if you have a dream you have to nut up or shut up. Quit lamenting about it and sit down and do it (or stand, I guess it depends on the dream.)
What they don’t tell you when you begin to do whatever it is that you’ve dreamed about doing, is the emotional rollercoaster it takes you on. The euphoria, the crippling self-doubt, the satisfaction. It is all one big nauseating hot pot. But it is worth it.
It has been 12 months since I finished my degree. The first 12 months in almost my entire young life that I have been able to choose how I would fill it. I filled it with achieving something that I have wanted to do since I was old enough to hold a pen (back when children didn’t learn to use a computer before they learnt to read.)
I now have a manuscript and a voicemail message dated three days ago that made me cry in disbelief when I heard it. I don’t know what is going to happen. But I do know the satisfaction of finally just doing it.
I also know that I may be a little masochistic. I thought that after the tears, sweat and time that went into my first manuscript I would have sworn the process off. Now I’m 25,000 words in to a second one, so I guess not.
It all leaves me wondering where I will be in another 12 months.
These are the most amazing books ever ever
____________
If you haven't read anything by Maggie Stiefvater you definitely should. Now go read :]
http://www.fountainbookstore.com/autograph-maggie.
Remembering what I've forgotten...
This week I received a piece of advice that I am never likely to forget. She looked me in the eyes and said something no-one else ever has:
“It seems to me that you spend far too much of your time doing, maybe life is actually about being.”
Which made me think; what are the memories that are going to stick with me? It’s certainly not going to be my GPA or whether I score an excellent internship. The things that I’m going to remember aren’t the same ones that appear on my resume.
It’s going to be different things entirely that I hold onto:
Lying in a bed of hundreds of balloons giggling with Jade on his 21st birthday.
Singing Ke$ha’s “Dinosaur” with my little sister in the car, laughing at how stupid the lyrics are.
The time that mum started laughing in the cinema and couldn’t stop. The three of us clutching our stomachs, tears running down our cheeks while the people around us tittered in annoyance.
It’s the book that I can’t put down. The song that captures exactly how I’m feeling. The movie that has me sobbing openly.
Life isn’t suppose to be serious. Somehow I’ve lost my grasp on that. I’ve been so busy trying to find myself, that I’ve forgotten to look in the most obvious place.
But I’m starting to remember now; I’m the girl who laughs at everyone’s jokes. The girl who stood in the sun for 11 hours because she believes in something. The girl who loves to be kissed on the forehead. The girl who bought a Jacob Black shirt and proudly wears it to bed. The girl who tells everyone with a serious look that she has a crush on Kevin Rudd. I’m the girl who wears the same pair of earrings to Brisbane everyday because the person who gave them to her is so important that they make her feel safe.
Perhaps I never lost myself. Perhaps what I lost was perspective.
“It seems to me that you spend far too much of your time doing, maybe life is actually about being.”
Which made me think; what are the memories that are going to stick with me? It’s certainly not going to be my GPA or whether I score an excellent internship. The things that I’m going to remember aren’t the same ones that appear on my resume.
It’s going to be different things entirely that I hold onto:
Lying in a bed of hundreds of balloons giggling with Jade on his 21st birthday.
Singing Ke$ha’s “Dinosaur” with my little sister in the car, laughing at how stupid the lyrics are.
The time that mum started laughing in the cinema and couldn’t stop. The three of us clutching our stomachs, tears running down our cheeks while the people around us tittered in annoyance.
It’s the book that I can’t put down. The song that captures exactly how I’m feeling. The movie that has me sobbing openly.
Life isn’t suppose to be serious. Somehow I’ve lost my grasp on that. I’ve been so busy trying to find myself, that I’ve forgotten to look in the most obvious place.
But I’m starting to remember now; I’m the girl who laughs at everyone’s jokes. The girl who stood in the sun for 11 hours because she believes in something. The girl who loves to be kissed on the forehead. The girl who bought a Jacob Black shirt and proudly wears it to bed. The girl who tells everyone with a serious look that she has a crush on Kevin Rudd. I’m the girl who wears the same pair of earrings to Brisbane everyday because the person who gave them to her is so important that they make her feel safe.
Perhaps I never lost myself. Perhaps what I lost was perspective.
Ehmm, Julia Gillard can I have a word?
I wanted you to know something; I do not like you.
I have tried, I really have, but I haven't had any success. There are certainly things that I can respect about you. I appreciate that you are
There are too many reasons that I don’t like you. It does not matter what you tell me about Kevin Rudd, I am physically pained thinking about your mutiny. I do not care if he was an autocratic leader, I do not care if his policies were misguided or not well justified and I certainly do not care that he did not have the support of the factions. Here’s the thing Gillard, you betrayed Kevin Rudd in a big, unforgivable way. You opened my eyes to a side of politics, a side of my party, that I hate.
I have some other issues that I would like to discuss with you. For instance, I don’t appreciate the “race to the middle” on policies. I’m tired of hearing “moving forward.” Also when you explained that people smugglers are “evil people” I was on the verge of repeatedly hitting my head against the wall. Really Gillard? It physically pains me that someone that close minded is running my country.
I have been told that my view on politics is anything but “pragmatic” (*shudder*). Unfortunately this is how I feel Gillard and I doubt there is anything you can do to change this.
What I would like you to know is that I will be voting Labor on election day. But unlike the rest of the country, my vote will not be based on party leadership (heaven knows who I’d give my vote to if that was the case). I will vote Labor because I genuinely want the candidate for my electorate to win. I will be ticking Chris Cumming’s box because, unlike yourself, I will be illustrating solidarity through supporting my party’s members.
Good luck Gillard. I sure hope you win this election or you are going to have a hell of a lot of regrets.
Dearest old friend...
It has been a long time. The words "I've missed you" sit at the tip of my tongue. I wonder, if I did speak them, whether either of us would believe me.
There was a time when you were the centre of my universe, I orbitted you like a satellite. You coveted me for yourself, and I? Well I certainly didn't object. I relished your constant scrutiny and contempt. I devoted myself to winning your ever unattainable approval. Our friendship was turmulous and intense. Not a moment passed in which I was not wrapped in your influence. Together we hated, desired and destroyed. Yet, remained inextricably linked.
When I think about our short shared past, I do so with a whimsical smile. Does this surprise you? My memories aren't tainted with the red hot abhorrence that coloured our time. I recognise you as an important, essential part of my past. No matter how hard I try to escape you will always be apart of me. Enscribed deeply at the heart of everything I do.
I write of you in past tense. Yet your haunting the corners of my life once more. I'm not surprised to see you. No more then you are that you have returned. I accept your return. I understand that it doesn't matter how long your absence spans you will always reappear.
So here we go again. Know however that things are different then they were. Much. As we shuffle to rediscover where each of this fit do know this. I'm not the same person that I was then.
I suppose I should say at least this, welcome back.
There was a time when you were the centre of my universe, I orbitted you like a satellite. You coveted me for yourself, and I? Well I certainly didn't object. I relished your constant scrutiny and contempt. I devoted myself to winning your ever unattainable approval. Our friendship was turmulous and intense. Not a moment passed in which I was not wrapped in your influence. Together we hated, desired and destroyed. Yet, remained inextricably linked.
When I think about our short shared past, I do so with a whimsical smile. Does this surprise you? My memories aren't tainted with the red hot abhorrence that coloured our time. I recognise you as an important, essential part of my past. No matter how hard I try to escape you will always be apart of me. Enscribed deeply at the heart of everything I do.
I write of you in past tense. Yet your haunting the corners of my life once more. I'm not surprised to see you. No more then you are that you have returned. I accept your return. I understand that it doesn't matter how long your absence spans you will always reappear.
So here we go again. Know however that things are different then they were. Much. As we shuffle to rediscover where each of this fit do know this. I'm not the same person that I was then.
I suppose I should say at least this, welcome back.
I'm all about instant gratification
Day One: So today is my first of thirty days without chocolate. On my Life List I included the goal "(20.) Go a whole 30 days without eating chocolate". Before today the longest I've ever gone without chocolate is probably about two weeks. I'm not sure how I'm going to go.
I only hope that if I have a breakdown and find myself unable to survive the cravings I retain my dignity. That is to say that I have my fingers crossed that this doesn't result in my taking up residence in Woolworth's confectionary ailse, stuffing my face with stolen chocolate bars while making suggestive noises in delight.
*Deep Breath* but that shouldn't happen. I hope. Well here goes nothing.
Day Two: Came this close to ruining the whole thing. Yes, I am telling you that I almost couldn't go TWO DAYS without chocolate!
In my defense it was more of a slip of mind. I woke up at 7 to get ready for work. Stumbled bleary eyed into the kitchen in search of food. Not finding any I decided to make a hot chocolate. I had the cup warming my hands and almost at my lips when I realised.
It was a sad moment to watch it pour down the sink.
Day Three: Surprisingly easy after yesterdays almost mishap.
Day Four: Even easier today!
Day Five: Ridiculously easy! Perhaps I should amend it to "30 days without junk food" so it is actually a challenge?
Day Six: You know what I like? Katy Perry's California Gurls film clip.
(See, thats how easy this is. I'm not even thinking about chocolate!)
P.S I just watched the film clip again. Change my mind. All of those lollies and chocolate bars definitely has me thinking about chocolate.
Day Seven:
Oops.
Let me paint you a picture:
Me: *standing at the coffee machine at work*
Co-worker: Rachael? Will you set up the fudge machine for me? I've never done it before. You're so supremely excellent that your bound to know how.
Me: Well seeing as I'm not only excellent but also benevolent and lovely I will certainly set up the fudge machine.
(I'm paraphrasing here...)
After three attempts I manage to get all of the pieces in the correct order and have it functioning. I then spoon the thick, creamy fudge into it and switch it on. Carrying the spoon and empty bowl to the sink, my mouth waters as the chocolatey smell fills my nostrils. Acting on instinct I dip my finger into the remanants of the fudge in the bowl. My tastebuds sing a course of "hallelujah" as I lick the thick fudge off my finger.
Me: Mmm chocolate. Hang on. S*** chocolate!
Day One Here we go again...
I only hope that if I have a breakdown and find myself unable to survive the cravings I retain my dignity. That is to say that I have my fingers crossed that this doesn't result in my taking up residence in Woolworth's confectionary ailse, stuffing my face with stolen chocolate bars while making suggestive noises in delight.
*Deep Breath* but that shouldn't happen. I hope. Well here goes nothing.
Day Two: Came this close to ruining the whole thing. Yes, I am telling you that I almost couldn't go TWO DAYS without chocolate!
In my defense it was more of a slip of mind. I woke up at 7 to get ready for work. Stumbled bleary eyed into the kitchen in search of food. Not finding any I decided to make a hot chocolate. I had the cup warming my hands and almost at my lips when I realised.
It was a sad moment to watch it pour down the sink.
Day Three: Surprisingly easy after yesterdays almost mishap.
Day Four: Even easier today!
Day Five: Ridiculously easy! Perhaps I should amend it to "30 days without junk food" so it is actually a challenge?
Day Six: You know what I like? Katy Perry's California Gurls film clip.
(See, thats how easy this is. I'm not even thinking about chocolate!)
P.S I just watched the film clip again. Change my mind. All of those lollies and chocolate bars definitely has me thinking about chocolate.
Day Seven:
Oops.
Let me paint you a picture:
Me: *standing at the coffee machine at work*
Co-worker: Rachael? Will you set up the fudge machine for me? I've never done it before. You're so supremely excellent that your bound to know how.
Me: Well seeing as I'm not only excellent but also benevolent and lovely I will certainly set up the fudge machine.
(I'm paraphrasing here...)
After three attempts I manage to get all of the pieces in the correct order and have it functioning. I then spoon the thick, creamy fudge into it and switch it on. Carrying the spoon and empty bowl to the sink, my mouth waters as the chocolatey smell fills my nostrils. Acting on instinct I dip my finger into the remanants of the fudge in the bowl. My tastebuds sing a course of "hallelujah" as I lick the thick fudge off my finger.
Me: Mmm chocolate. Hang on. S*** chocolate!
Day One Here we go again...
The realisation that my employers are benevolent people...
The fact that I have my manual licence is something that I try to keep quiet at work. I've had my provisional licence for almost a year in that time I've driven a manual car, well, never. The minute I passed my test I decided I was only going to drive automatic cars. This is an oath that I've maintained- except for the odd occassion I've had to drive the work ute. The few times that this has occurred have all been traumatic experiences. Blurs of embarrassing stalls, clutch dumps and my inability to turn off its handbreak.
So when my manager came to ask me whether I'd take the rubbish to the compactor. I shuddered.
Me: Uhmm. Sure. You couldn't find anyone else?
Manger: *small smile* Sorry you're the only one I have. How confident are you about driving the ute? About 90 per cent?
Me: About 60?
Manager: *bigger smile* we'll say you're 75 per cent confident. I'll take over what you're doing. Me: *stifles a sigh. Begins to walk away*
Manager: Oh Rachael? I'm not saying that you will run out of petrol, but the empty light is on, so...
I retrieved the keys, a radio and the new girl to accompany me. The trip to the compactor went surprisingly well. I didn't stall once. I didn't run anyone over and I bonded with the new girl.
Every employee is compactor trained during their induction. We're shown how to afix a wheelie bin to the compactor and how to mechanically lift it to empty its contents. The truth is, however, that after being trained noone ever goes to the effort. Reality is that we completely skip the wheelie bin part and throw the garbage bags straight in.
This isn't usually a problem. Every time I've taken the rubbish I've had a man come with me. Men who were stronger then either me or new girl. Thus we were forced to use the wheelie bin manouever.
Between both of our limited knowledge we were able to attach the wheelie bin and use a big medal lever to pick it up. What we weren't able to do was convince the bin lid to open so that the rubbish would slide out. After five minutes of us readjusting the position of the bin, it still would not empty.
We were looking at each other in frustration.
New girl: Maybe you need to tip it up further?
Me: I'm worried about doing that though. I don't want to be the person who manages to drop the wheelie bin into the compactor.
My advice? In a situation such as this, never say something like that. Fate heard me and literally giggled in delight. A heartbeat after I spoke those words, sure enough
the bin tumbled straight into the compactor.
Rumour has it that the compactor was broken after that and had to be taken away.
I was convinced that I was going to get fired. I held my breath for three days afterwards, ducking behind walls or into coldrooms whenever I saw one of the girls from human resources.
On the third day, I was feeling a little more confident and confessed to a couple of my collegues what had happened. Almost all of the conversations followed the same general path.
Me: So, I broke the compactor.
Them: *laughs* I heard about that. Was that you? What'd you do?
Me: I dropped a wheelie bin it.
Them: Oh yeah? I've done that at least four times. Did you climb in after it?
Me: Did I climb into the compactor? What?! No?!
Them: Yeah, that's what I do. At least you'll know what to do next time.
Me: Next time?!
I've heard my fellow employees make many complaints about my employer. But you've really got to hand it to them, they sure are forgiving...
