Only a week left to go...

So here I am writing notes about Flexible Learning Spaces, which I hate to be quite honest. I don't like the spaces and I don't like writing about them. What I  like is shopping. Yeah, I like shopping for clothes to wear to places I like with people I like.

 I also like wine, I've had far too much of that stuff lately,  I need to stop drinking my calories just because I don't want to think about my education assignments and the soul-destroying job search process. I want to think about all the fun things I will do over summer with the friends I have seen too little of lately. Obviously, when I think of doing these things I am in an alternate reality in which I actually  have money and humidity doesn't do horrible things to my curls. I guess this summer I will be discovering what 'Budget Melbourne' has to offer. Ah, screw that.

Here is a list of things I am looking forward to doing once I have finished this infernal course.

• Attending the Spanish Film Festival La Mirada
• Drinking Sangria on the rooftop bar of The Emerald Peacock
• Dog/Housesitting for my parents and taking full advantage of the air con, proximity to the beach, and the sunny balcony.
• Drinking mojitos on aforementioned balcony
• Making massive pitchers of  iced tea with fresh fruit.
• Finally seeing a film at The Rooftop Cinema after countless summers of intending to go but never making it.
• Two words: Beer Gardens.
• Reading books for the enjoyment of it.
• Meeting some members of the opposite sex. So many females all up in my Education course. I need some casual entertainment.
• Dancing up a storm at Soul Night
• Discovering some new brunch places with my friends.....
• ....actually seeing my friends

 

So I start the second part of my teaching placement tomorrow. I am terrified for four main reasons:

1. It's a private school which is something I have never experienced before.
2. It's all boys. ALL BOYS. Only boys. Lots of boys. Teenage boys everywhere. Scary!
3. I'll be teaching history for the first time. I haven't been in a High School history class for eight years and my uni course gave me about 2 hours of instruction on teaching history this semester - thanks shitty uni course.
4. The classes I'll be teaching will be mainly on modern history which I know close to nothing about.

You know what, I am actually quite excited about teaching content I have learnt the night before to classes of rowdy, wealthy(spoilt?), fifteen year old boys. Seriously. I'm not even being sarcastic.

So tomorrow I will put on my PABSTOY (Private All Boys School Teacher Outfit Yo) and I will walk in there and hide my terror like a boss. As one of my wise course tutors told me: fake it til you make it.

Photo: Tim Barnes

Changes

I have a love/hate relationship with change. I find it exciting, but I also find it stressful. When I have the immediate future planned out and pinned down I find it easier to relax and get excited about things... but when I know there are things to come which could cause hassles, I can't focus on anything but that.

My rent has gone up and I can no longer live in my current apartment. My flatmate has decided to move to a suburb I'd rather avoid (I've heard those stories of syringes in cinema seats) so I'm on my own. I would love to live alone, I've been fantasizing about it for quite a while now, but I just can't afford it. I know I sound like a brat, but I'm not used to knowing what I want and simply not being able to have it. But, I suppose I've never wanted anything quite so expensive before.

As well as having to find a new abode I'm also starting a new course at uni: Secondary Teaching. That's right folks, here's a huge shocking twist - the girl who studied history at university is going to become a history teacher. I'm actually really happy about my decision to get a proper teaching qualification, although we'll see how I feel three weeks into the course when I start doing pracs and remember what little shitfaces teenagers can be.

My 25th Birthday is coming up. The older I get the more I am convinced that age is just a number. Writing that I am 25....25....25....it just doesn't seem correct. It doesn't look real. Gosh, I even struggle with being 24. It's not that I feel old, I don't, it's that I've grown up with notions of what it means to be 18, 21, 25, 30...etc. and as I reach (and pass) these ages I'm realising that although I become wiser, age doesn't dictate when you should have achieved something or when you should act a particular way. You change as you get older but age is not an accurate marker of when significant life events should occur. Yeah, I'm aware that probably doesn't make much sense, that's because I'm not planning on becoming coherent until I'm thirty. Suck it, bitches.

Well, that's just a bit of an update. Time to go shopping in the 35 degree heat. Leaving you with a couple of photos of my dream homes.

Photos: The Selby

Dum dum dummmmmm thesis results are in

Well, thesis results are in. I don't think I've ever felt so many emotions in such a short time span. Firstly there was the numb, terrifed feeling as I waited for the webpage to load, secondly there was the moment of satisfied relief when my eyes settled on the first grade I saw 85....lastly there was the moment of delirious happiness and hysterical laughter when I realised I was looking at a different grade and my thesis mark was actually 92. I am incredibly pleased, and a bit surprised, about my result. I called Lick straight away and we screamed like children. Her thesis received the highest grade in the department of History: 94. I am not even jealous, she really deserved it. Honours was an enjoyable year for both of us, we didn't get overly stressed, we didn't pull all nighters, and we made sure to continue socialising even when times were tough. I'm certain that without that balance I wouldn't have done so well.

Today Lick and I are meeting up to see a film and have an evening drink in celebration. There are plenty of other things I have been meaning to blog about, including my first ever book club meeting, but for now I just want to brag.

And now I'm back, to let you know I can really shake 'em down

It's done. It's finished. No more thesis. My life has no meaning anymore. Jokes....kinda.
I decided on the title The Romance of Ravishment: Sexual Violence in the Arthurian Romances of Chrétien de Troyes. Now all that is left to do is wait for the results. I try not to think about it too much

The long-awaited freedom of having no 'study guilt'  hanging over me doesn't feel as wonderful as I expected. I feel a little panicked, to be honest, what do I do now? I can see a horrible possibility that I will work a lot and then sleep til midday on my days off. Working a lot is great, but not if it turns me into a lazy bed monster (not in a sexy way) on my days off. I must stop sitting in bed watching bad television shows and munching on cheese biscuits, I am sleeping in a field of crumbs.

Today will be nice. Brunch and Dinner out. I hope I don't use up all my friends' social perseverance too early on in the holidays.

I also have a growing book list which includes: (finishing) The Elegance of Hedgehog by Muriel Barberry, The Swan Thieves by Elizabeth Kostova, When Christ and His Saints Slept by Sharon Kay Penman, The Secret History by Donna Tartt, Burning Bright by Tracy Chevalier, and Bernard Cornwell's new book Death of Kings. No doubt I'll also read some cheesy young adult novels.

Okay, I better get ready for Brunch. Gosh, I love Brunch.

Photo: Anna Rosa Krau

I want to rock and roll all night, and party every day

Only twelve more days and I won't have to feel the ' you should be studying guilt' every time I get distracted. I deleted my facebook to help with distractions yet I somehow seem to find others, like staring at the wall, thinking about moving to South America, browsing bookdepository, and oh...well...blogging.

Twelve more days and then it's all about sunny Melbourne days, dancing with my friends, my (fiction) book list, and beer gardens. Roll on the 28th. I guess having the ending in sight is a little bittersweet; I've  had a fantastic Honours year....and I won't truly be able to relax until the results come out.

Off to finish to finish my take home exam on medieval women; I'm linking Heloise, Eleanor of Aquitaine and Margherita Datini.

Rantage

And I’m back, if only momentarily, to rant a bit.

I have discovered a new pet hate: students who take primary material completely out of its original context and apply it to their argument. Even worse, when they are totally aware of their sneakiness and just laugh and say ‘oh yeah, I tried to get away with that’ when called on their dirty academic behaviour.

I have to frequently defend my choice to spend a year writing on some random medieval dude, and the worth of writing a thesis at all, I do this by explaining the larger picture like this:

Dear ignorant person,
Imagine if there were no students writing theses, then there’d be no Masters students,  no PhD students, no lecturers, no History departments at University, no History teachers, and all of a sudden we’re living in that movie Idiocracy and watering plants with sports juice.

Okay, I may be overreaching here, but the point is to think of the larger picture of misrepresenting material in an area which is academically neglected. If nobody notices then that wrong could eventually become an accepted right.

 It was cute when Geoffrey of Monmouth did it….lazy undergrads, not so much.

When the night always ends with a fight, i'm excited that you wind up next to me

I'm starting to realise how naughty religious people must feel. The guilt. So much guilt. It follows me everywhere, telling me I'm naughty. Everything, which is not my thesis, has become a guilty pleasure. Facebook? Should be researching! Historical fiction novel? Should be writing my chapter! Socialisation? You only deserve that if you've worked on your thesis! Blogging? You stupid little chit, get off the Internet and WRITE YOUR THESIS.

I understand that this blog is getting a little repetitive. Perhaps I should rename it ' Avoiding my thesis'. The thing is, I actually really like my topic; I just have too much time on my hands. I work better under time pressure. The semesters of uni I did the best in were the semesters in which I overloaded units.

I have been reading my old blog. My European adventures. It's so easy to forget the things that I didn't love about travel when I'm not going anywhere.

Oh, I am feeling sorry for myself today. I have a sty, a sty in ma eye. Of course, this sty has chosen the perfect time to hit - I'm going to a gig tonight and High Tea next week. Maybe I will just run with it and dress like a pirate, eye patch included. Oh, and it's rent day. Awesome.

I realise this is a borefest of a blog post. I'm just tryin' to keep it real.

I was going to post a pretty picture. But this post just does not deserve it.

Thesis thoughts

* Not knowing Latin, Ancient Greek or Old French is an effing huge academic road block. But hey, I know how to say 'I shit on god' in Spanish... so not all is lost. Argh.

* Where oh where will I find an English translation of Chretien's Philomena?

* Should I stop reading Ovid into everything?

* Forcing myself to get to uni at 8am rather than this whole 'I can study from home' thing better work.

* After google searching 'ravishment' (it's thesis related!) I have discovered there are a lot of messed up people on the interwebs.

* I miss Classics.

* In early 15th century France a cleric broke into a house intending to rape a woman; when she fought back he stabbed her. The cleric's punishment was to pay a fine of the same amount of money another man had been fined that year - for throwing a loaf a bread at another man's head. And no, the fine for bread throwing was not particuarly large. - I'm reading 'Ravishing Maidens' by Kathryn Gravdal.

* I love timelines.

***A non-thesis related thought: it sucks that there are no pubs within walking distance of my flat. I miss that about England.

Love was a promise made of smoke

Lately life has been a whirlwind of lunches, nights out, coffee dates, shopping sprees, and spazzy dancing; it has been fantastic and I have met some wonderful people. The socialising fun-tram can't go on forever though, I am starting to get worn out and feel as though I am slipping behind with honours. The fact that it's mid-year break doesn't really mean anything.  

I have had soul sprain the past couple of days; I believe it is because lately I have been having too much fun and fun can't last forever.

So now, even though realistically I have nothing to be upset about, I am all mopey-sad-faced and I want to stay in bed, eating cheese off the block, listening to Dashboard Confessional, and lamenting that I don't have a cat to cuddle. If you are unfamiliar with what soul sprain feels like, it's a bit like this:

   Photos:  Markus Jans, Peter Guenzel, Timothy Barnes

I housesat for my parents a couple of weekends ago and some of my fellow honours geeks came round to do immature things. I made the most delicious punch, if I do say so myself, with an entire bottle of white rum, champagne, fresh fruit and mint. We built a fort out of chairs and sheets in the lounge, sat in the fort and played articulate (a word game), and enjoyed tequila shots. Yes, we did plan in advance to act like carefree children under the influence of alcohol. I figure it may seem strange now, but imagine how much stranger it'd seem in 10 years time; I plan to get as much immaturity out of my twenties as possible. 

Our fort and my (potent) punch.

On Friday night I went to a costume party themed 'Fairytale and Fantasy'. My excellent friend 'Mountain Range' came over and we got ready together - I was the absinthe fairy and she was Cleopatra. We had a few glasses of wine before we left...then there was some Jack Daniels...and someone made me a White Russian....and my friend, the host, had mulled wine. There was a guy there taking photos. I have seen these photos on facebook. Times like these I wish I were a super hacker who could hack into fb and cut that silly drunk green fairy out of all the pictures.  

 So now that all that fun is over I have decided to man up. Starting... tomorrow I will force myself to spend four hours a day on my thesis. I would have started today but I have been super busy re-arranging my room, purchasing a new laptop, buying a ridiculous amount of groceries for one person, and will soon be snuggled up in bed watching the season final of Game of Thrones.

Also. By ordering a new laptop I have thrown away my plans to buy a double bed, sorry potential lovers. Ahem. Yeah. Okay.

You're the first thing, and the last thing, on my mind

I have three abandoned blogs. They each represent a different time in my life and I read back on them at different times for different reasons. There's the grammatically horrifying journal of my year volunteering in England, which I read when I am feeling old and in need of some naive ranting. There's the style blog I started in third year, when I suddenly found a passion for scarves and op shops, which I read to remind myself that I thought I was pretty awesome in third year. And then there's the blog I kept whilst living in Europe, which I read when I'm wondering why the hell I came back here. I think this blog will forever exist to remind and reprimand me for the time I wasted dithering about during my honours year.

If I stay at home to study I am distracted by sleep....my bookcase...facebook...making another cup of coffee..etc. If I go to uni to study I am distracted by the possibility that my friends are there also and that they want to have a quick coffee (which turn into hour-long discussions).

Even when I actually study I am distracted. All the possibilities of history distract me. My insecurities about my topic distracts me. Looking up academic articles in JSTOR, before I read the ones I have right in front of me, distracts me.

Having internet on my damn phone distracts me.

You know what. I am going to study. Right now. After I make myself a coffee. And have a shower. And tidy up my room bit....

This weekend my honours crew are coming over to party. We're going to make a fort, drink anything that can be found and play Articulate. I will try not to bite this time.

Photo: Anna Rosa Krau

And I'm crazy, but you like it, loca, loca, loca.

So this just in: I haven't worked on my thesis for two weeks. I was working on my coursework during that time, and attending semi-related social events (going out with other people from Honours can be considered thesis related, right?). Today is the day. The day when I approach the stack of books I have carefully selected from the library and they will just fall open to the perfect page and inspire me. You know what else inspires me? Game of Thrones - and episode seven is just sitting there, waiting to be watched....and....and my computer is much closer to me than all those library books. Okay, that's sorted then. GoT first, then daunting stack of books.

On Sunday night I went to the birthday drinks of one of my Honours peeps. My decision to save money by having a couple of glasses of wine while I got ready backfired. I had half a bottle of wine without noticing, arrived rather ...hyped...and continued on drinking. Let's just say I made numerous moronic comments and bit some people. Yes....bit some people.

My friend is having a costume party in June. I've decided to go as the absinthe fairy -  La Fee Verte.

The honours student rap

Thesis thesis thesis, work work work
Got a place in the library where I always lurk
Narrow that topic, down down down
Gotta argue a point before you hit the town

I got bitches, I got fast cars
I know 'aries' is also called 'mars'
You want my grill and my gold chain?
Well first you gotta suffer some thesis pain

Finish that verse, drop the hook
I'll just finish reading this history book

Type that essay, type it up
I have ranted like a nut
Did you know King Arthur had a really big sword?
Oh come on, I know you're not bored!

I am such a geeky loner
What'd you say? You got a problem, Homer?
If you're oblivious to my academic jokes
Don't study history - you ain't smart enough, folks

Drop that hook, then start a new verse
- this lame rap can't get no worse

You don't smile at me that much

Bam! Here I am back from the world of Arthurian Romance and Italian Courtesans. Well, I'm really only on holiday from it...for an afternoon. During this afternoon I get to do exciting holiday things, like send important emails which have stacked up and buy groceries.

This weekend my BFFFFFFF is coming to visit. Yay.

I have decided I want to go back overseas(my old blog readers are eye rolling). Fine, okay, I have a problem. I call it Ia2B:)S = Inability to be content syndrome. First, though, I have to get a career on the go; I quite like the idea of moulding spongy young minds. Maybe I can go on a NZ holiday to try and fend off my wanderlust for far away places.

Mehhhh, okay, pretty picture that in no way represents my life in this moment:

    Photo: Bernd Westphal

Having trouble saying how I feel, but I can dance dance dance.

I've typed about five different sentences to start this post. They all sucked. I am in a cafe with free wireless internet. After living in Europe for 18 months Melbourne's lack of free wifi frustrates me. I feel like an internet thief even though I am having a meal. Actually, I'll probably end up spending more money because of the 'laptop guilt' than if I was here with a friend. Get with the times, Australia. Free wifi makes you money.

I suppose I haven't really done anything blogworthy of late. I'm just checking in - with my blog - with myself. I'm still really enjoying being back in Melbourne. Not even the tiniest tinge of regret at leaving Europa. I want to go back, of course, but I'm happy to wait a couple of years. Or..one year.

Uni is fine. A little more intense than I was expecting, but it's pressure I am allowing myself to feel because, unlike undergrad, I suddenly care - a lot. My thesis topic has continued to change more often than an emotional retard's facebook status....but I think I finally have it....stabilized. A little bit of Classics, A little bit of Medieval, and a little bit of literature. All good.

Moving out of home. Again. Every time is different. Renting. Sharing. It's a runner-up to what I really want - my own place. Hopefully it's not too far in the future. I even have a 'future home' photo folder.

And now it is time for me to leave. It's bussinessman lunch hour - urgh!

Photo: The Selby

(From the future home folder)

We all know frogs go 'la di dah di dah'

Oh hello, blog. I think I heard you calling me? You must have known that I am once again a uni student in need of a form of procrastination.

Here I am on campus once more, allowing myself coffee breaks every 30 minutes or so and googling like a ....well, like something that googles a lot. When did 'to google' become a verb? Oh, this rapidly changing English language. Perhaps I have consumed too many caffeine beverages today. I have decided to implement a new rule : toilet breaks only for each completed paragraph of my current assessment task. So far I have  earnt quarter of a toilet break. Damn, I better stop drinking coffee.

The end.

I have somewhere to live! I have my own study cave at uni. I am enjoying zee study. I don't have any money, but that's just a minor issue, right?

Blog postage coming soon. ish. soon-ish.

I didn't hear what you were saying, I live on raw emotion baby.

Well, I'm back at uni. The campus is awash with enthusiastic first years who will still be in bed at midday come week five. They're just mulling around seeing who they can practise breeding with. There are so many hipsters who look like they have barely reached puberty and oranged faced girls in tracksuit pants and hoodies. There are also plenty of gorgeous new boys, but now I am old enough to be considered a mature age student - 24.

I'm actually very happy to be back on campus. I just love walking around with my large coffee and pile of library books feeling superior to the aforementioned first years. I even have my own little assigned study cave.

My Honours topic has changed more times than facebook's layout, but I'm quite happy where I am at the moment - in the Renaissance.

    Photo: Timothy Barnes

You can be my alphabet and I will be your calculator

I can't think of a thesis topic. Bitch Bitch Bitch Moan. Just spent almost 30 minutes composing a 4-5 line email to my Honours supervisor. I was attemping to inform her, in a grammatically correct fashion, that her most recently acquired student has less focus than a first-year after a few tequila shots. Actually, tequila shots don't seem like such an awful idea....

I've been up chasing my childhood with a pen. These are dreams old men dream.

So I have this problem. I want to study everything. Okay, maybe 'everything' is an exaggeration. How about this, I want to study everything about Europe between..oh, let's say 30th century BCE and the 14th century CE. Narrowing that down to a thesis topic is proving to be difficult.

Photo: Fergus Padel