Is it Friday yet? How do normal people do this nine to five stuff?

Ok, I am being sarcastic because all this work is making realise how lazy I can be. I did just put in a twelve-hour day so it is probably Ok to be a little tired.

My mantra at the moment is, "It's going to be ok, It's going to be ok" because if I get my act together maybe, just maybe, I can score a job at what is turning out to be an awesome school with a fantastic supervisor. I am learning so much and, for the first time in my life, I have actually enjoyed being at 'work'. Maybe that stuff about finding a purpose in life isn't a load of BS.

I will blog more later. In the meantime, sleep beckons.

Serpents and Doves

Jesus's advice to his disciples:

"Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves: be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves.

But beware of men: for they will deliver you up to the councils, and they will scourge you in their synagogues,

And ye shall be brought before govenors and kings for my sake, for a testimony against them and the Gentiles.

But when they deliver you up, take no thought how or what ye shall speak: for it shall be given you in the same hour what ye shall speak."

Matthew (10:16-19)

I have my first teaching prac tomorrow. Wise as a serpent, harmless as a dove: I think those a two great metaphors for a high school teacher. I am not a control freak but neither am I a doormat. And who cares if I don't know everything? I'll know what I need to say when I need to say it. Bring it on.

Can We Still Be Friends?

Photos from my Perth sojourn.

Limo and champagne, this wedding was first-class all the way.

Well, first-class most of the way. We arrived a little early so we decided to watch some TV.

Then it was time to suit up.

Shirts, waistcoats and trench coats, all black, in 35 degree heat. I survived but I think some of the other guests were suffering from heatstroke at the reception.

Enough bogan hijinks. Here is a photo of Perth by The Swan that I took at the reception. The blues are the Bank West building.

A photo of my God-Daughter. What a cutie! Takes after her God-Father of course.

I tried to get her to smile but I was dealing with a mind far superior to my own.

My trip back to Perth was kinda like having a fling with an ex-girlfriend and then reliving the trauma of the break-up because the reasons you couldn’t be together in the first place haven’t changed. Maybe, one day, Perth and I will hook up again – perhaps even marriage will beckon. For the time being we will just have to be friends. It’s the best thing for both of us.

Back in the USSR

In lieu of a coherent narrative here are some dot points that sum up my first twenty-four hours back in Perth.

Things that Melbourne has that my corner of Perth does not:

• People with dark skin.
• Decent public transport.
• Late-nite shopping.
• A decent night life. Unless the pool tables in the public bar down the street count.

Things I had forgotten about:

• The way my parents bicker.
• What it is like to sleep on a queen-sized mattress.
• What the ocean (or at least dead seaweed) smells like.
• Warm autumn nights.

Things I miss already:

• My computer.
• My car.
• The Age.
• My independence.

Things I will take back with me:

• My Medicare card, if I can find it.
• Novels I read while I was in high school.
• A short story I wrote when I was an undergrad.
• A hangover. If I am not careful.

In age where everyone is seeking a sea-change or a tree-change I couldn’t be happier to be as far away from my backwater beachtown as possible. Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying that there is something inherently iniquitous about small towns. However, a change in my external circumstances has given me a chance to break a lot of my bad habits and forge good ones. And, as well, living somewhere that is urban, multi-cultural and otherwise unfamiliar is teaching me things about life that I could never learn here in Summer Bay.

All and all, the Melbourne move has been a success. I will probably stay there for another eighteen months at least. If I knew someone who was moving in the opposite direction I wouldn't advise against it but there a couple of myths you have to get over first.

MYTH: Beach towns are full of colourful characters like ‘Diver David’ and romantic accidents happen all the time.

REALITY: Nobody cares that you are a washed up barrister from Sydney looking for a second chance. Everyone wants to get home to watch Grey’s Anatomy and CSI.

MYTH: Everyone is as buffed and tanned as the characters on Home and Away.

REALITY: The beaches are filled with leathery retirees. All the young people are working in pubs and coffee shops so they can finish their degrees and move to the city.

MYTH: The ocean is an image of beauty and tranquillity.

REALITY: The ocean is an image of beauty and tranquillity but smells like fat man who has eaten a bad vindaloo.

Cue laugh track.

Sorry about that. Please keep reading my blog.

This is not an urban myth, I swear.

Once upon a time there was a young man who liked to sleep with a revolver on his bedside table. What else does one need within arms length during the wee hours of the morning besides a loaded firearm? Nothing. Well nothing except a telephone. One night the telephone rings and, well, can you guess what happened next?

This little anecdote came to mind about five minutes after I ran across peak hour traffic to catch a tram I always miss while listening to my Ipod. I just happened to look to my right and notice an ambulance waiting at the stop lights on the other side of the road. Yeah, they will probably be coming back for me if I keep myself hooked up to this thing, I thought to myself.

The world's obsession with techonology - and its obsession with the promise that technology will make our lives better - makes me wonder. I mean back in the day when there were no cars and people lived in smaller communities and walked everywhere people must have spent a lot more time actually talking to each other and depending on each other. Cars, telephones, computers and the internet mean that a lot of people could earn money and buy stuff but spend the rest of their lives never having a meaningful conversation with anyone ever again. In the modern world I could be on a tram with a hundred people and everyone of us could be completely alone.

I am not saying that technology is evil and we should live go back to living in caves but, I dunno, it makes me wonder. Shouldn't meaningful relationships occupy a place of importance in our lives? Isn't this the thing that makes us happy?

P.S. – I am heading to Perth tomorrow for a wedding on Saturday. I plan to post something during the trip but, if the debauchery of what promises to be a complete and utter hootenanny gets the better of me, expect something after Monday with lots of photos.

It took the better part of four hours but there it is: my bookcase built by me. I having been looking forward to this day all week because it meant I would have something to blog about. I wanted you to see all the wonderful tomes I have ploughed through since I was about fifteen and make observations, criticism, jokes in the comments page. However, my “After” shot doesn’t really live up to the expectations I had in my head. Somehow I remember packing a lot more books before I left for Melbourne.

When the job was done and I was cooking my evening meal I felt this strange emptiness come over me. I was pleased that my home was more organised than before and even more pleased that all my favourite books were in place where I could admire then. But, at the same time, I felt disconnected, lonely, depressed. Not because I was alone or particularly sad for some reason but, I think, because I was so satisfied by something so meaningless.

This must be how Edward Norton’s character feels when he talks about being a “slave to the IKEA nesting instinct” at the beginning of Fight Club. I have been looking forward to getting a bookcase ever since I got to Melbourne because it would mean that my living room would like less of a shit heap. But now that I have fulfilled that goal I feel dissatisfied. Perhaps, I should take some advice from Tyler Durden: “I say never be complete. I say stop being perfect. I say lets evolve, let the chips fall where they may”.

I am stuck in a rut. I have been in Melbourne two months and I have become a little too comfortable. As much as I like Fight Club I think it is a good idea to avoid the Tyler Durden solution to this problem, i.e. make soap out of human fat and overthrow society from the bottom up. I need to spend less time with computers and television sets and more time with real people. Break out of my self-involved lifestyle and go help someone.

Speaking of materialism, I am thinking about buying a digital camera. There are two models that stand out but I can’t make a decision. Please help.

(1) Canon Powershot A550 for about $260. This camera operates at 7 megapixels, 4x optical zoom and has an optical view finder. The downside is that has no manual focus option and a small LCD (2 inches). Does manual focus matter?

(2) Kodak C875 for about $300. This camera operates at 8 megapixels, 5x optical zoom and has a manual focus option. The downside is that there is no image stabilisation and no optical viewfinder.

I have a favorite but I will keep it to myself. What do you think? Or should I go for another model?

The Windscreen and the Fly

Between writing a tedious lesson plan and nursing my addiction to The Biggest Loser I have found some time to blog. Marvel in the wake of fantasticity! (cue sarcasm) Prepare to be awestruck by my wisdom!

Seriously though, I wish I was more like D’Jen and blog a few hundred quality words day in day out. That girl is a machine. I know that she has said that she doesn’t think much of her own writing but I can not think of any other blogger who could match her for consistency, quality and quantity. I, sadly, have a pause button on my brain that makes me think twice (and sometimes three or four times) before I blog anything. Usually, by the time I have thought my initial idea through my life has moved on and there is something else I should blog about or there is something in the real world that needs my attention.

One of the things that my pause button works overtime on is relationships in general and relationships with the opposite sex in particular. But after reading a post from this blog I felt, as a guy, I should leave my two cents somewhere in cyberspace. For what my opinion is worth, I would not be ashamed if some bearded IT guy started hitting on me and I was interested in knowing his contact details. (Given that I am a heterosexual bloke that hasn’t happened too often. Although, there have been a couple of “dudes” I have met in tutorials and lecture theatres who have gotten a little too “friendly” for my comfort level.*) Everyone has feelings. Everyone has had a crush on some body and been disappointed. Truth be known, some days you are the wind screen and some days you are the fly.

Perhaps this stuff happen because we are all to a greater or lesser extent hung up about sex. We get that initial sexual zing when we meet someone new and we want to ride that wave for as long as we can. Unfortunately, we over indulge ourselves and any chance we have to develop a relationship gets crowded out by desire and its flipside, anxiety. Finally, we retreat to the old relationships that, on the one hand, serve us so well but also keep us tied our past. If we were just a little more patient we might find a lot more than we expected.

That is my two cents. I invite any and every other person on the face of the planet who has been spurned by a crush to leave their two cents on the comments page as well. By the time we are done we should have enough money to feed Africa, cure cancer and buy out the coal industry .

*Disclaimer: I am not trying to purvey any form of homophobia. Everyone deserves respect, dignity and compassion.