The Book of Poo

I bought this book today.

"The Book of Poo, A Spotter's Guide" by Josh Richman & Dr Anish Sheth.

The book first caught my attention when I saw the word "Poo", when I read the introduction, I thought it was highly relevent to my sociology course (more for last sem, not this one, but anyway). I quote second paragraph:

Even though everybody poos, societal norms dictae that issues pertaining to poo be kept private. The act of pooing is too often hastily and covertly performed. Rather than embracing its potential for catharsis, the world has rendered the act of pooing to be an undesirable inevitability of everyday life. Indeed, poo has long resided in society's outhouse.
(Richman & Sheth 2007)

With that in mind, I will quote my favourite poo descriptions from this amusing book of poo.

Log Jam
Even worse than Pebble Poo is no poo at all. Despite stomach pains, rancid gas, and feeling a turd on deck, no matter how hard you push, nothing comes out. After 10 - 15 minutes in the bathroom, your friends, spouse, or roommate may start to worry about you, but you may not be ready to give up yet. However, when you ultimately decided that it was a false call, the empitiness of the toliet bowl is a cruel reminder of your inability to perform.

loaters vs. Sinkers
One of the most mystifying characteristics of poo is the tendency of some turds to float and others to sink to the bottom of the bowl. Whether big or small, brown of black, it is impossible to predict whether a poo will be a Floater or a Sinker until it hits the water and settles in.

If I quote anymore, I'll probably be sued for copyright infringement or something. So I'll end it here.

Down and pooping
(Think Up and Atom from Radioactive Man in The Simpsons)
and forever yours,

Richman, J., Sheth, A. (2007) The Book of Poo, A Spotter's
America: Chronicle Books

Do I have to?

One of the requirements of being given the chance to post on this blog was that I actually had to write something. If I really didn’t want to write something I would just end the post now, and leave it as this just to silence all those ‘h8terz’, I feel so black right now. It’s not that I don’t like writing, I do quite enjoy it but there is just so much pressure (not force over area! but if it was it would be kN/mm). I have always wanted a blog but I am too lazy and I get distracted way too easily to actually make it worthwhile, not to mention I would just talk type crap which would really go nowhere, or if it did it would make such massive swings from sentence to sentence that it just wouldn’t make sense. Its anatomy stills the sticking cathedral opposite an unseen, the gnome pretends to be a rhyme above a north while sighing over the castle. How many times did you re-read the previous sentence?

I did start to post something the other day, by other I mean yesterday, but really didn’t feel in the mood You see, I have a list of tasks to do to help my avoid doing whatever it is I should be doing. Today, and for the last week or so it has been study and put timetables into some sort of calendar (Google Calendar for those chosen ones) to be able to plan better, I know comedy gold. I am slowly working my way towards hitting these items, but as a procrastinator I work from the bottom up. Here is how the list appears at the moment.

1. Study

2. Google Calendar

3. Clean Desk (so I can study)

4. Post Blog thing

5. Go to Library to pick up book (its late, and it’s not open)

This list isn’t exactly what happens, of course there is usually for example a 5a, 5b, 5c, .... these are not officially added to list they just end up happening in between the main items. These are the distractions that I give myself to avoid doing the lowest (or highest number) items on the list, while I avoid doing the highest (or lowest number) items. What manipulative mind games I need to play on myself in order to get something done, I think I may have him fooled do not tell him. Back to the distractions, recently these have usually been to do with my iPhone. Like playing Nintendo games (Mario is the coolest little guy I know with a hat, and looks like a train driver) on it or other silly little games just in hope of finding anything in order to add another letter, to a number to help stop me from having to actually do something which could slightly be considered productive.

Another way to tell that you are avoiding something is when you start counting how many times the blinkly line flashes as you wait to write something. Am I counting the white bits, or when it’s black? I always lose concentration after about 15 or 20 flashes, or non-flashes.

Like I said at the start, this really goes nowhere.

Perhaps one day I will write something more insightful, don’t expect a look back in history like some of these posts have been. Just for those who do want to reminisce, grab your glass of red wine or whatever else you use to feel pretentious and deep here it is “back when I was a boy the sun was brighter, the grass was greener, the sky was bluer - we were just all round better. Cost $1.50 for a can of Coke, News was actually news not trashy gossip. We could get a bag full of for 50c and we weren’t frowned upon if we took a bag! Those bloody hippies.... Hey you kids!, Get off my Lawn! I just manicured the garden!”

My day as a professional idiot.

How can you possibly be a professional idiot?

Do you take a course in idiocy? Do you graduate from a school for idiots? Is there some kind of special exam you'll need to take to become a professional idiot?

To be honest, I don't know how you become a professional idiot, I think it's one of those things you're born with, or one of those days you have when you are just completely insane and retarded, or when you're just generally really happy.

I have a combination of the last two possible ways of being a pro idiot for a day. I was completely off my rocket and insanely happy today. And with the explosive combination, I got a day-pass as a professional idiot for a day (naturally, that's what a day-pass is for, to be something, be somewhere, for a DAY! See, that's what a DAY mean, it means a DAY!).

So, my day as a professional idiot. Where should I start?

Maybe I should start with my psyc1040 lecture this morning. It all started quite normally, ran into my cousin dearest, chatted to him a bit, scream out ANTONIA and JANELLE over the relieved Engineers and sleepy Psychologists when I saw Toni's red cardie. This is normal every-day (almost) event for me and I thought nothing of it.

However, when I was sitted in my lecture, my lecturer started talking about scientific research methods, he has a Canadian accent see, and when he say hypothesis, he pronounce it "hypothesees", it made me crack up everytime he say it, and everytime I laugh, Keenan look at me funny and shakes his head, which make me laugh even harder.

On the way to Sociology (and Keenan back to college for lunch), we walked pass some girl talking to her friend, she said something about the "Asians", and for absolutely no reason at all, I started laughing and tripping over my feet (not that anyone noticed of course), because I was concentrating on how to not trip over, I didn't look at where I was going. About a meter away was a tree, and I was so shocked that there was a tree in front of me, I went: TREE GET OUT OF MY WAY! hoping that it would mirculously jump out of my path. As the idiot I was, I justified my almost-hitting-a-tree experience with "They're alive, they should know better than to be in my way!". Which just further reinforce the fact that I am completely insane today.

After sociology, Janelle, Jasmin and I went to lunch (for me) at Wordsmiths, Jas started reaccounting all the funny things that happened today to Janelle. When Jas was telling the stories, I kept laughing and laughing and laughing. for again, absolutely no reason at all. My laughter was contageious (as usual), and caused both Jas AND Janelle to laugh with me. About 5 minutes after my salad arrived (and about 10 minutes of contineuous laughter), I wacked myself on the head trying to stop myself from laughing so I could start eating, realising that I am completely crazy today, I told myself (out loud, how sad), "I'M SUCH A LOSER", and because I said it out loud, Jas added "FOR ONCE SHE'S MAKING SENSE", which just made us laugh even harder.

To be honest, I do not remember most of what happened today, it happened way too fast. But I felt that I need to record this just so that... well one day we can look back and smile, thinking "wow, wasn't I an idiot?" well, that's more for me, you'll probably think, "wow, wasn't Tiff an idiot?".

So this is my day as a professional idiot. I cannot imagine anyone pulling off idiocy that well really, and as Jelly put it, I do randomness best.

And signing off,

"What's your product?"

According to Mary Klages, this is common question asked of the Social Sciences department of any university. She says, "this question left me speechless. ... [T]he engineering department makes engineers, who make stuff - bridges, electronic circuitry, space capsules. But the English department? What do we make, what do we produce?" (2006, p.8)

When I first read that, I was an English Extension student focused on the arts. I didn't think the divide was so significant that the departments would bicker constantly. Now I'm an engineering student I see it often.

Exhibit A: Understanding Engineers.

The graduate with a science degree asks, "Why does it work?"
The graduate with an engineering degree asks, "How does it work?"
The graduate with an accounting degree asks, "How much will it cost?"
The graduate with an arts degree asks, "Do you want fries with that?"

I sat in a Sociology lecture today, and, frankly, they make engineering lectures look boring. Sure, I enjoy learning about hyperboles, de Broglie waves and watching our Materials lecturer smash coffee cups, but lectures are far less interactive. In Tiff's Socy lecture, there was intelligent discussion about gender representations and the implications of hegemonic discourses. My own lecturers are hilarious, but there are only so many jokes you can make about Fu-vectors and drunken first year engineering students. There's no conversation unless it's to say the lecturer's got the page down too low or that a plus should be a minus somewhere.

I love the sciences, but I don't go to bed each night thinking about Equilibrium Constants or the significance of limits (yet).

The thing is, I like literature and breaking down world views. I like to have Feminist and Marxist theories broken down to me. I like Deconstruction and reading up on Post-Colonialism. Let's face it -- where else can you have intellectual discussion on phallic symbolism without sounding seedy?

Today's lecture unravelled sexual politics and curious societal archetypes. There was a talk about Adrienne Rich's text, "Compulsory Heterosexuality" and a discussion about the novel "He's just not that into you." Basically, it was about expectations of marriage and family life, and that men -- in general, according to the dominant stereotypes (masculinity is complex) -- aren't as dependent on females as females are on males.

Here, the lecturer brought in her 24 year old daughter Sandy as an example.

Her whole life she'd told Sandy she was gorgeous, she was beautiful, intelligent and smart -- to no avail.

"It took a drunken, sloppy mechanic for her to believe it.

"What. The. Fuck."

(I laughed; I'll also admit that she stereotyped and was possibly being sexist, but it was an interesting point)

Obviously, this can't always apply and there are infinite ways of "doing gender", of being male, female, or somewhere in between.

An interesting point she raised about us as an audience was that in general we seem to have difficulty with ambiguous gender displays.

"Have you ever walked down the street and weren't quite sure what someone 'was'? Did you do a double-take and check the chest area and scan the pelvic region for tell-tale bumps?"

We live in a world where, for the most part, this is 'true'. I was in the city a few weeks ago with a few friends of mine, and we came across a character with long hair dressed in long, billowing black (a dress or really baggy pants, I couldn't tell) with a really low cut top revealing skin -- and none of the expected bulges at the top. Long story short, our reaction was exactly as the lecturer described. (We're sad, aren't we?)

Her friend, fairly androgynous, attended a family gathering a few weeks ago. Adults are generally good at restraining themselves (societal norms), but kids are another issue.

I must say, their honesty is appealing.

"Excuse me," a four-year-old started.

"Are you a boy, or are you a girl?"

The lecture ended with no definite assertions, but with students inspired to think.

"Go, Children, and Be Yourselves!"

For the record, Mary Klages' defence of the Arts was that her department created knowledge -- to "foster the intangibles, the immeasurable values of life, the beliefs and forms of art without which life would be lifeless equations and bare facts" (2006, p.8) I don't at all mean to imply that Engineering is without 'art', and we do have to take into account social norms, politics, economics, etc, etc -- but it's not as explicitly explored. All I'm saying is that I love Tiff's lectures.

List of References:

  1. Klages, M 2006, Literary Theory: A Guide for the Perplexed, Continuum, London.

Yes, I need more books to read lol.

They Come In Threes

Barefoot Contessa

Inspired me to cook.

Too bad my mum sucks at keeping the kitchen stocked, and I have to get my lazy ass out of the house on my day off.

And I have to scrab money from my mum's table! BECAUSE MY STUPID PIN HASN'T ARRIVED IN THE MAIL YET!

Besides the access to my mum's spare change, I have no cash at all. Nothing, nada.

So it's 12:03pm. The only thing I've eaten today is a really gross triple chocolate muffin that is way too sweet. I know I usually love anything with chocolate, but seriously, chocolate chips, chocolate batter, and chocolate fudge in something as small as a muffin is too sweet. It leaves a really yucky after taste as well.

This is why I want to cook, cook something that is as good as chocolate, but not overly sweet, something that will not leave some kind of disgusting after taste.

I've decided on chocolate mousse and whip cream. I have whip cream at home, I have chocolate at home, but I have no plain cream to make the mousse. And that is why if I want to cook, I'll have to get my lazy butt out of the house.

And why should I cook? My laziness is stronger than my desire to cook. And this is why I'm blogging. Because I'm lazy.

"Blog because I'm lazy". Some people say "I'm too lazy to blog", but I enjoy twisting things around and making no sense at all.

What can I say, I'm cool like that. Not self-absorbed at all.

I should actually be at uni right now. I made plans to lunch with a friend. But, I overslept (see a pattern anyone?), this always happen, my alarm clock NEVER go off when I need it to, and it goes off when I don't want it to. I guess you can say... TURN IT OFF WHEN YOU DON'T WANT IT TO GO OFF! But you know me, and I know you, and I know that you know that I will never do such thing because I'M LAZY.

This blog entry should be titled "I'm Lazy", but I'm too lazy to change it, so it shall remain "Barefoot Contessa" for as long as I live and have exclusive access to my password on

So to sign off, I'll end with a quote from an excellent song.

I guess it's time to take my curtain call, I'm dying to thank you

McFly - The Last Song (Radio:ACTIVE)
I salute,

Jaffle Magic

There are certain things that we remember from our youth. For me the afternoon jaffle sums it up quite nicely. Now a lot may ask what a jaffle is and as everyone is different so firstly I must explain what in my eyes this marvelous creation of a "jaffle" is.

Jaffle: Toasted bread sandwiches, two buttered slices of bread are placed on top of each other with a filling. This may include ham & cheese, baked beans, cheese and pineapple, your favorite heat able food/combinations of these. These buttered slices of bread and filling is placed in a "jaffle maker" heated plates with a pattern imprinted on them that makes two triangular portions. Note: a good jaffle maker regardless of bread/quantity or filling is able to crease the edges of the bread and make it air tight, preventing food articles from escaping and falling on clothes.

Ok now a post about a jaffle may seem weird/odd but a jaffle symbolizes much more that its visual appeal and mouth watering taste suggests. Jaffles formed apart of our youth. The food item that you craved each afternoon after primary school. The humble jaffle symbolizes the innocent freedom, thoughts, needs and the perfect day of my youth.

Looking back, life was simple. The world around was small, all I knew was my home, grandparents home, friends, the local supermarket. Cambodia and the world beyond was still a mystery, possibly not even a mystery as I didn't really comprehend that it existed only just being a dot on a map. Down the road even?

Getting back on track, the jaffle. In recent days my homes "jaffle maker" has been replaced, the old one died many years back and has sat as a monument in the cupboard to the old days. With the new jaffle maker the older routines have sprung back into existence. The afternoon jaffles are back and with it the memories that surround them. Recently while eating my jaffle I have been thinking, with thoughts like "Jeesh I am getting old", "I wonder how much I can fit on this thing", " shall I have four or just two", "do I have the right ingredients to make them", "is the ham off....", "who puts the bread in the freezer, WHY IS THERE NO BREAD AND EIGHT TUBS OF BUTTER" floating through my mind. So you can see that my mind has been well, filled with thought. Analyzing this collection of thoughts I realized that they are a good summary of what was once passing through my mind and that some of the hardest decisions of the day came from them. Questions like ham and cheese or baked beans, multi grain or white, two or four.

This was as complicated as my life was back in the past, and this humble and simple jaffle should be a reminder to all, as Monty python puts it "always look on the bright side of life". As we get older the world appears more complicated and we have realized how much we don't know. Sadly as we move on we fail to value the simple pleasures that we once filled our life with, be that be a jaffle, painting or just sitting on a dam wall looking out on the water (*my personal favorite*)

Yes, I feel as we all are getting older we are failing to see the jaffle side of things. The simple pleasures that we once took great happiness from are being lost in the huge sea of complexity and lack of knowledge is dragging us down into a state of unhappiness.

Take a turn back to your youth, pick up a hammer and build something, relax in a chair, look at a flower even and have some good olde fashioned fun.

With your friends and family close at hand its time to enjoy life like it once was, with a greater emphasis on the simple pleasures.

(*apologies in advance for the spelling and grammatical errors*)


And that, kids, is what engineers do:

They create solutions...

... to problems they create.

In other news, on the whiteboard under Quote of the Day was the following extract from The Dark Knight: "The unstoppable force meets the immovable object."

Is there such thing as an 'unstoppable force' and an 'immovable object'?

It makes me think of Newton's third law of motion. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.

You don't have 'immovable objects' without 'unstoppable forces', and what does it mean to 'not move' -- or to be 'unstoppable' -- in the context of the entire universe? Ariel raised the point that all forces are unstoppable in space provided no opposing forces are acting upon them.

It's a weak statement and totally sad, but, for the sake of scientific integrity, it had to be made.

Ah, Socialists

So there are posters all around QUT Kelvin Grove at the moment that advertise a Socialist Alternative meeting where...


...will be discussed.

I don't mean to be pessimistic, and I'm all for having a social conscience, but challenging capitalism isn't like blowing over a house made of playing cards. You can't cause established social orders to crumble by stomping your feet too hard or sneezing in their general direction.

I'm seeing a room where idealistic university students are armed with permanent markers and butchers paper.

student 1: How about we Hi-jack some aeroplanes and...
student 2: It's been done.
student 1: How about we stop buying things and...
student 2: We'll starve.
student 1: Not if we establish a self sufficient agrarian society...
student 2: We don't have land.
student 1: Shall we just set up another petition outside F block then?
student 2: Great idea!

Inbox classics.

"Omg! She's not entirely full of shit."

"random message for my loves. yes this was sent @ 2am. I LOVE YOUS! Indeed not random at all. No I'm not high on illegal substances. I am merely happy" - Sometimes I think she's taken too many lessons on talking from Lizzy dearest

"The house across the road was on fire 5 minutes ago. Should i have sent an email?" - LOL-flipping-LOL!

"I have to commit an assassination." - reply to 'are you busy tomorrow?'

"11:11" - I love tradition

"call me I'm dying" - You're a dick. But I love you. xD.

"I poured a bucket of boiling water down myself... I feel like I wetted myself"

"we are stuck on the slope up the fall of the wild west ride at mw .HELP!"

"Make a wish."

"Mover over jesus, janelle has risen" - received five minutes after thermo (last) exam ended

"Knock em dead janelle" - received two seconds before math (first) exam began

"I remember why I called ... I ran into a pole" 

"Hah. But its nice to know something is still magical out there. I knwo this be a short text but. I'm with two cups of tea and a mandy. =]"

"I think I just got pooped on"

This is a recycled post, but I couldn't think of anything else to write other than that, right now, I am loving Uni.  Chemical/Materials engineering, anyone?  I have waited an entire semester to figure out where all the physics came in -- and here it is, right here, mixed in with Chemistry.  Nanotechnology, smart materials, semiconductors, biomaterials, polymers, ... the list goes on.  So far we've been learning about basic properties of materials and we've been introduced to De Broglie's theories.  

I'm excited.

Oh yeah, and meeting with uni kids again: flipping awesome. 


People are strange.

Being an academic would be awesome. You are renowned for your intelligence and can hence say as many eccentric, downright odd things as you like and people still have to take you seriously. One of our lecturers posted this in the exam feedback on blackboard;

As usual, some students did not manage their time well and did not leave any time to answer this question – though, oddly, this was more common in the first half of the alphabet than among the Ls to Zs.

On an unrelated note, I saw this on a toilet wall today (but didn't manage to take a photo.);

handwriting 1: I wish everyone would realise that we are all people - all of us.
handwriting 2: really? all of us?
handwriting 3. Fuck, I'm not.

NDS, a melodrama.

My hands are numb, so I decided to blog, since it require finger work, and moving my hands along the keyboard (kinda)... I could have gone downstairs to play the piano, but I'm too lazy to get my ass off my chair... guess that's why I'm cold huh, I'm not eating, drinking something hot, or moving around to keep the blood flowing.

Anyway, about moving around, I downloaded a game onto my NDS today, it' s call "Improve my health - My Weight Loss Coach", do not ask my why I downloaded it ok? I just... felt like it, also because I deleted half the games on my NDS, it seem a bit, empty, so I loaded it with a bunch of random new games.

I was tempted to add Hannah Montana back on it, but... I reminded myself that I'm turning 18, Miley Cyrus has a gay voice and that having Hannah Montana on my NDS will probably encourage the world to laugh at me, so I resisted that urge and left the link unclicked.

Can you believe how much a NDS game make you think? Even if you're not playing the game, it makes you think about whether to download it (or buy it), if you do get the game, what would other people think of you and your game choices, and more importantly, are you going to enjoy the game. Someone can write a book about what a person thinks when they are downloading an NDS game, like, there could be this entire sociological viewpoint on NDS and their games.

Okay I'll shut up now. It's just, I love my NDS, and I love thinking about my NDS, and since taking sociology, I've been thinking, a lot about the world, and now when I combine NDS with thinking, I instantly apply this sociological view on it. I'm insane I know. You can now shut up and stop laughing about the Hannah Montana discussion that was going on in my head about 6 hours ago.

Invest in significance.

I never thought of this as something I'd blog about publicly, but I'm feeling really, really happy now -- the 'end' of an awesome day, I suppose -- so here goes.

Do you ever catch the clock at 11:11?

I heard it in a song once -- I always catch the clock: it's 11:11, now it's time to talk (Something Corporate) -- but it never meant anything to me. I'd look it up on the 'net and find these theories. I really didn't care. It was silly to me but sounded pretty.

One day Tiffany, who doesn't even listen to SoCo and isn't really all that superstitious, popped up on MSN saying "HEY! it's 11:11! Make a wish!"

It became a habit. One that spread slowly, person to person. Antonia text messages me when she's out and remembers I'm home alone.

It doesn't mean anything in itself, just like the Logan Hyperdome 555 bus wasn't named so some smart arse could have Log Hyp 555 on passing buses like calculator code. It just amuses me and makes me happy -- guarantees I'll have reason to smile while waiting for my bus home.

For me, it's a reminder of friendship and simple wishes, connections and coincidence.

Tonight Maree asked me what I wished for, just out of curiousity.

I'd never really thought to ask Tiff or Toni in case it 'jinxed' anything, but Maree's asking made me realise how ridiculous the idea was. After all, 11:11 didn't mean anything until to start off with, until I wanted it to.

I asked Tiffany first.

"Hey," I started. "Is it bad luck to ask what you wish for every night? I just want to know if you wish for the same thing or if it changes." (If the answer that you want is in the question that you state: come what may. Coheed & Cambria.)

Tiff said, "it changes." She wished for "little things."

She said, "I can tell you what I wished for just then, since I know it's gonna come true if I go downstairs.

"I wish[ed] for udon for supper."

(It was 11:11, she'd worked late, and her family had already eaten)

Hearing Tiffany say something so strikingly similar to what was in my own head made me smile.

I wish for the same thing knowing it will come true -- if I try hard enough.

I'm not superstitious, but it's the best thing I've 'believed' in in a while.

Today was awesome.

It's 11pm (almost)

And I'm eating cornflakes.

Special K with Honey Almond at that.

You know, I developed this thing with just randomly eating cornflakes in my room, without milk, just with my hands dripping into the box, or pouring a bunch into my mouth. It's very boyish and stereotypically male (a la all the advertisements on TV, you see the women pouring it into a bowl with milk neatly and gracefully... and you see the men just pouring it down their throats), but I like it, in the freedom of my room, I'm allowed to do just that. And I am a girl, yes I know that's shocking (based on what you know about me and my cereal habits), I am definitely a girl.

Anyway, this entry is just about my cereal stock in my room, I have like, 3 boxes of Special K in my room, hidden under my desk, next to my stuff toys and behind my beanbag, if you ever want Special K, just sneak into my room and help yourself... well if you sneak, you gonna help yourself... because if you don't sneak... I'll have to help you get in, therefore you're not helping yourself to my cereal, you're making ME help YOU to MY cereal.

Blahh this is pointless. Janelle just asked me whether I'm blogging about McFly.

My my! How far off is that! This entry is about CEREAL! Obviously, you've been reading right? Not just going ctrl-f and look for your name (cough Janelle cough)? Now she got me to mention my love, I'm just gonna drop a quote here:

"When I blocked up the toilet with a monster poo which we later named Jeff"

- Dougie Poynter
Sorry I can't resist!

It's that time of year again.

You know what's weird? The fact that I'm actually feeling as though this year's Formal was brilliant fun. Enthusiasm rubs off on me, and Monica seems to think hers was awesome. I mean yes, some things never change -- the food was shit, and they played the song from the Huggies ad (the music would've been interesting, I guess!) during the night -- but it sounds a lot more like the 2006 Semi than the 2007 Formal. Sylvie wore her dress with the christmas lights (that's hilariously awesome), Mon-mon's dress (made by her mother!) was amazing, and everyone looked gorgeous. She was telling me about the Post -- the afterparty -- and how they had a massive sleepover where they toasted marshmallows, played guitar hero and hung out the entire night.

"And yes, we behaved," she added. (I think I give off the scary-teacher vibe sometimes!)

I just find it odd. Thinking about the current Year 12s graduating, thinking about how they're going through QCS, how they're going through exams, -- it makes me realise I'm more interested in their experience of it than I was of my own. Does that make sense? Maree and I were talking about it yesterday. Being a Year 11 student watching the Year 12s run through the Guard of Honour, watching them line up for QCS, asking about their Formal and watching them take the lead at the Term One Production was the most exciting experience of my high school life -- and the most inspired I'd been in my three years there. Isn't that weird?

Hearing Monica's account makes me want to look back on my own Formal and rewrite the entire thing in my mind. It makes me feel so hypocritical. For the longest time, I blamed Melina Marchetta and all those authors that made Year 12 sound like the epitome of everything when living through it certainly didn't feel that way. I held the biggest grudge, like my favourite authors had let me down -- but now I'm beginning to think that's just the way it happens, and if it weren't for the idea of Year 12 being so awesome, I don't think I'd have survived.

I'm trying to figure out why. Is it because we invested so much in it, thinking it would be as good as the books promised? Because it was hard to make sense of it while we lived through it -- because it was supposedly 'lifechanging' and hence blinding? Because I really needed an entire year to get over it so I could reflect and enjoy? Am I really just filling in a gap, comparing and contrasting my experiences, justifying my existence in 2007 -- saying it was 'awesome' because of this, 'could've been better' because of that?

To be honest, I hated the Formal at the time -- but after speaking about it with Monica and reminiscing with Tiffany, I'm beginning to think it wasn't all that bad.

Aristotle argued that art didn't just capture life but recreated it, idealised it, produced something 'better' to aspire to, even.

"Art and literature thus complete a process that the natural world leaves incomplete; nature merely presents us with events, phenomena, sensory experiences... while art, by creating an order in which to understand those events and experiences, provides us with their meaning."

(Klages 2006, p.17)

I just have no idea how to explain how I feel right now, feeling insanely ecstatic about something that never happened to me, but did in a way, when I didn't even enjoy it at the time. (Year 11 is another story entirely).

I think we're all just crazy.

... I'd like to know what all the rest of you think, or if you've even really thought about it.

List of References:
Klages M 2006, Literary Theory: A Guide for the Perplexed, London: Continuum.