For the first time in my life I have nothing to say.

And quite frankly, I'm terrified.

Global Warming - PLEASE READ

OK, so we've all heard a billion arguments about global warming. A lot of us are even getting a bit sick of going around in circles. But this video blows all arguments out of the water. I haven't been able to find a flaw in it. To be perfectly honest, it's really scary. So please, take the time to watch this video. Really listen to what he is saying, and try and do your part.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bDsIFspVzfI

Pass this video on if you can!

The Step

I'm in a desert. The sky is blank, staring down at me with its piercing blue eyes. It offers no help, no solice from the blazing heat that consumes me. I walk through the sand. It's heat surrounds my toes as I wiggle them to gain grip on the steep dunes. I wonder when this will end. When will I find the oasis that brings with it the juices of life? When will I find the oasis that brings with it reinvigoration of the soul?

I am now on my hands and knees. I crawl towards the top of the dune. Every breath becomes a struggle. My anger rises. My temper flares. My patience expires. As the sun rises to its peak, it stares down and judges. In a fit of madness, I throw sand in its direction and curse it. Why does it punish me? Why does it judge me?

I make it to the top of the dune. I stand. Slowly. Purposefully. Defiantly. A cool breeze dances around my ankles. And as I survey the view, I realise that I am no longer in a desert. I am in a sandbox. I calmly step out, and smile at the feeling of wet grass on the bottom of my feet. So I remove my other foot from the sandbox. I take a few more steps, and with each step my anger fades. My temper subsides. My patience restores itself. I am not in an oasis. I am somewhere far more permanent.

But then I wonder, "Why did I wait so long to realise it was merely a sandbox? Why didn't I step out earlier, rather than prolong my own suffering and torment?"

It was only a step... And in this new place, I look at the sun once more, but this time I thank it for the lovely tan.

A Progression Of Thoughts

This is where I want to be.

This is where I am.


This is how I want to be.


This is how I'm afraid I'll end up.


This is what I want to do.


This is what I'm doing.


This is how I want to be. Now and forever.


This is my greatest fear.

Tunnels and Lights

There is always light at the end of the tunnel. No matter how bad things seem. It's there. There is no use in denying it. In fact, you will save a lot of time and effort by accepting the inevitability that the light is there, and that it will come. Now move on accordingly.



Note: For those of you who wish to discredit this point of view, unfortunately you can't. This is simply because I had this epiphany in the shower. And only true, real and important epiphanies happen in showers. In fact, I'm pretty sure that Einstein figured out "e=mc²" while having a refreshing bath.

Moscow

Cars battle for pole position on busy streets. No indicators, no warning. The rich and the poor can be distinguished simply by looking at the colour of the car (and the symbol puts it beyond doubt). The black BMW's, sleek Mercedes and powerful luxury 4WD's transfer the elite and super wealthy of Moscow in style. They know they can't be touched, and they drive like it. The poor know that they can't touch the rich, and they drive like it. They live in fear of scratching the perfect paint jobs, fear of having to pay the insurance, fear of watching their last rubles disappear into a bank account that is bursting at the seam.

The city itself is not that beautiful. Old, run-down buildings fill the gaps between restored masterpieces. Yet the history that channels through every cobblestone and every brick evens-out the arrogance. It's culture makes its sinful ways forgivable. It's strength makes the weakest of people seem like spartan warriors, even if it is only in spirit. It's enough to change even the most resolved and uptight of men, and the most level-headed women. Money, it turns out, is everything. All else follows. Especially in Moscow.

If money is the devil, then Moscow must be hell.

Then why don't I want to leave? Have I too been influenced by its powerful methods of persuasion? Or does a part of me secretly want the lifestyle that could exist only in a damned haven like Moscow?

I don't know. But if the the US has the American Dream, then Moscow has the Universal Dream.

I Still Call Australia Home

I've been to cities that never close down,
from New York to Rio and old London town,
but no matter how far or how wide I roam,
I still call Australia home.

I'm always travelling, I love being free,
and so I keep leaving the sun and the sea,
but my heart lies waiting over the foam,
I still call Australia home.

All the sons and daughters spinning 'round the world,
away from their family and friends,
but as the world gets older and colder,
it's good to know where your journey ends.

Someday we'll all be together once more,
when all of the ships come back to the shore,
Ill realise something I've always known,
I still call Australia home.

But no matter how far or wide I roam,
I still call Australia, I still call Australia, I still call Australia home.
but no matter how far or wide I roam,
I still call Australia I still call Australia, I still call Australia home.



This song was written by Peter Allen. It touches every Aussie all over the world, no matter where they are. I still have to stop myself from crying whenever I hear this song. This country is incredible. And while there may be more exciting cities, bigger cities, brighter cities.... there is nowhere I'd rather be.

If you are an Australian and are reading this, download this song. Then close your eyes, and think of home. It will come easily. And when you are done, try hard not to feel patriotic. You will find it is impossible. I will always call Australia home. Always.

Everything Is Illuminated

The movie "Everything Is Illuminated" is a touching movie about Jonathan's search for his grandfather's past. A comedy at times, and a drama that brings you to your knees the next, it is hard not to get engrossed in this film. This was just one scene that stood out for me, and had me laughing out loud hours later. It was just the epitomy of the Russian thought process: meat, vodka and other Russians... that is the meaning of life.

(Because Alex can't say the name Jonathan, he calls him Jonfen instead)
Jonfen: "I'm a vegetarian."
Alex: "What does this mean?"
Jonfen: "It means i don't eat any meat."
Alex: "But why?"
Jonfen: "I just don't."
Alex: "What about steak?"
Jonfen: "No."
Alex: "Chickens?"
Jonfen: "No."
Alex: "And the sausage?"
Jonfen: "No."
Alex (in Russian): "Grandfather, he says he does not eat meat."
Grandfather (in Russian): "Is he sick?"
Alex (in Russian): "No."
Grandfather (in Russian): "What about sausage?"

From left to right: Alex, Jonathan (or Jonfen), Grandfather

The Drama, The Hype, The Gossip

Paris Hilton is stupid. Fact. Paris Hilton will do anything for attention. Fact. Paris Hilton saw G-d in her jail cell and apparently the Almighty One sent her there to teach her a lesson. Fiction. Unless the G-d was seriously bored and wanted to play a joke on the world's current talking point, there is no reason for Him to speak to her.

Let's look at this from a historical perspective, by creating a short list of people that G-d has spoken to in the past:
Abraham
Joshua
Moses
Isaac

Notice a pattern? These people believed. They didn't release sex tapes because they thought it was cool, they didn't get drunk and break the terms of their driving probation, but most of all, they didn't have a good old sob when shit didn't go their way to get people to feel sorry for them. If we had to create a list of people that G-d wouldn't talk to, then Paris Hilton would be in the Top 3. Joining her would be Saddam Hussein and Mel Gibson.


I'm confused at what all the fuss is about? Oh no! A celebrity doing something stupid! How shocking! It's not like they're human or anything!

I will give it to Paris though, she used her celebrity status nicely to get herself out of prison. Not that we didn't see it coming. If Paris cries, then she expects everybody to cry with her. There was a poll on one of Australia's news channels as to whether or not Paris should have been let out of prison. 83% of people said that she shouldn't be let out. What were the other 17% thinking? Prison is not meant to be a happy place!!!!!!! You are not supposed to enjoy prison! If you endanger people's lives by driving drunk when your license has already been suspended then you have to expect that you are going to be put behind bars for at least a week. Am I being too harsh? Sorry. I guess I just had the impression that our society was based on sets of rules that supposedly helped it run smoothly. While some of the rules are questionable, and some of them aren't strictly enforced, basic rules like not being allowed to handle a 1 tonne moving piece of metal travelling at 60 miles per hour on a public road with hundreds of lives at stake seems like one that should be strictly monitored.

Lets review the obvious points of the case:
Points against Paris:
She's annoying
She's dumb
She committed a crime that deserved punishment

Points for Paris:
She saw G-d
Attempt to use money and being a "celebrity" to get her out of prison

Sorry G-d, but not even you can swing things into her favor.

Travel - A Holiday Through Time

That familiar feeling rushes through your body as you sit writing your report for work or university at 3.30am. That familiar feeling that comes when you're feeling low, feeling frustrated, feeling angry, feeling tired. "I need a holiday". Most people get it once a month or so. I get it approximately every 48 minutes, give or take 20 seconds.

But not the type where you're constantly on-the-go, 10 hour tours filled with walking and learning. I long for the holidays where you do nothing. Bask in the sun on the beach. Watch sea gulls try and fly against the wind. Drink coconut milk from a freshly opened coconut. Swim in the ocean. Then sit in the sun some more. You know the ones...

But then I got to thinking. What if instead of traveling to a destination in our world. Imagine traveling to a destination during a different time period. For example, to be there at the opening of the first Heineken brewery. Maybe they were giving out freebies...???

People could go back to the olden days. See the dinosaurs. Watch the parting of the Red Sea (with popcorn of course). Attend an Elvis concert. See Britney Spears when she was attractive. The list continues...

Anyone remember this?

Just the overall coolness of the idea made me jittery with glee. A chance to regain my dignity from all the times that I lost it. This would take several vacations. But a good investment nevertheless.

It would provide a way to see the world like never before.

A lot of people never post responses on other people's blogs. But if you have read this, please write where you would go and why. Doesn't matter who you are, if we've met or not, where you live. I'm interested. Spill your thoughts. In this case, the world really is your oyster. Happy travels!!!

Goldfish

Sitting in my International Business lecture, I can't help but wonder, do goldfish really have 3 second memories?

International Business discusses globalization, free trade, and the impact multi national companies have on a global scale.

One of the arguments against globalization is that it harms the environment. Billion-dollar companies like Nike couldn't give a shit if they over-pollute a creek in central China, nor could they care if that river happens to be the water source for thousands of people. As long as their clothes and shoes are produced cheaply and sold for ridiculous profits.

The polluted rivers, lakes, seas and oceans contain some of the most important organisms in the world. The balance of life and death in the murky depths is drawn with a very fine line. Any disruption could be catastrophic.

So the place where goldfish live is being polluted daily beyond belief. Could this mean - and this is a crazy, out-there theory that is bullshit but helps tie this story together - that we are possibly responsible for them having a 3 second memory? Who knows? We don't. And I'm betting neither do the goldfish, chances are they don't remember...

(No goldfish were harmed in the writing of this story)

Very Well...

OK, so I haven't written a post in a while. I'm a terrible human being, I'm going to hell, etc. etc. The point is, that while a meaningful method of expressing myself has failed to present itself over the past month or so, I have been busy planning my trip to "Lets not fail macroeconomics" land. Its impossible to get a visa, not to mention the vaccinations..... I needed three against boredom alone.

However, it will be pleasing to those of you who have been following my lack of progress that I have in fact made some progress. Feel free to ignore this blatant contradiction and read on for an explanation.

While most people feel that I have done nothing to improve my circumstances, I am inclined to disagree. I know a lot more about the subjects that I am studying. I am more than capable of passing. If you remain cynical, keep it to yourself. In my world, everything is peachy, especially peaches.

Update

The finger is twitching... Good news. In another 18 years I might actually gain full movement! :)

Somewhat Confused

I'm somewhat confused. You see, I was under the distinct impression that I was a hard-working, dedicated and motivated student. I worked because I knew that the rewards at the end of the tunnel would be worth it. But now, the rewards are sweeter than ever before and yet I can't bring myself to lift a finger.

I have two assignments due this coming Monday (26th March) and another two due on the Monday after that (2nd April). I haven't even started the RESEARCH on any of them. And listen to what I have hanging on the results: studying in Europe for a semester early next year, and a 6 week university-sponsored trip around the world to go and meet with marketing executives from the biggest companies on our planet. Don't believe me? Here is a preview of some of the companies they take us to: Nike, L'Oreal, Coca Cola, Louis Vuitton, Manchester United Football Club, Sony Corporation and Mercedes Benz. That is about a quarter of the companies they take us to... but you get the idea. It's a HUGE deal. But I can't bring myself to lift a finger.

I could have finished every single one of them by now. Without a doubt. They are challenging, but not impossible. I have an almost annoying amount of spare time on my hands which I am throwing out the window. I wish that somebody would just come up to me and start slapping me... hard. I have been given such a chance. To go on that 6 week trip and to study in Europe will look absolutely incredible on my resume, not to mention the personal satisfaction, experience and memories that I would suck up like a sponge given the opportunity. But I can't bring myself to lift a finger.

I'm somewhat confused.

Help... anyone?

"The Future" Has Never Been So Sweet

Oh... my... g-d... The insanity, the humanity, the red bull!!!! If that day had been any better I might have mistaken it for heaven. Future Music Festival comes to Melbourne. The best DJ line-up that Australia has ever seen. 30,000 tickets are sold. We have 22 of them. $100 per ticket. 12pm - 10pm on March 11th, 2007. The day arrives...

We awake at 9am. The alarm bell is ringing in my right ear. I swear, "*uck". This is an ungodly hour. No human should have to be awake at such a time. Anyway, moving right along... Me and my cousin slowly bring ourselves downstairs for breakfast. Showers. Teeth-brushing. Hair-styling. Cologne-applying. Dressing rituals. And then to pick up the women... We drive over and they are still straightening their hair. Typical.

Once they are prepared, we head over to another friend's house. A few drinks to start ourselves off. It is now 11am, and already there is a bottle of vodka open on the table. We start walking to the Meyer Music Bowl at around 12pm. We arrive at 12.20pm. The queue is approximately 1km long. We cut in at the very front and wait 10 minutes before being put through a ticket and security check. Thousands of people in the never-ending line behind us curse our very being.

Perfect weather. 25 degrees Celsius. Clear blue sky. House and techno music plays from 5 different stages, surrounding us in a cocoon of vibration. We begin to explore. Mischief Stage... Famous Stage... Underground Stage... Air Stage... and Main Stage. Everybody is grooving (if not physically then at least mentally). We settle in near the front of Main Stage and start going nuts. Drinks keep pouring, feet keep moving, people keep coming. DJ's keep changing, but the mood doesn't. Smiles from ear-to-ear on all 30,000 people.

Phoebe and I

Skip forward to about 8.30pm. The sun has almost set, and the migration begins. People from all the other stages slowly start making their way to Main Stage. The lights came on. Green, red, blue, white. A sea of faces stepping to the beat and light patterns. Then the lasers came on to add to the ambiance. Words fail me. Everybody simply lost control. The encore ran for an extra 25 minutes. Nobody wanted to leave. But all goods things come to an end. Or do they?

At 10.30pm, we headed off to the after-party. This is not a joke. There was an after-party at a club called "Famous". It holds just over 2,000 people. We were some of the first ones there and got in easily... and then kept dancing. More lasers. More lights. More drinks. More people. More fun. Time flew. Suddenly it was 6.30am. There were 50 people left in the entire nightclub. It was below empty. The DJ at Famous finally stopped playing, and we were told to get out. NOW all good things come to an end. We had been on our feet dancing non-stop since 12.30pm. 18 straight hours. Final drink tally: 5 red bulls, 10 smirnoff ice, 4 pulse, 2 UDL's, 2 Corona's, 3 shots of vodka.

Laurence (my cousin) had a brilliant quote that helped summarize our 18 hour dancing-spree. The photo that he is referring to is just below.

"This photo totally summarizes everything I thought of Future Music Festival. That smile has pretty much wrapped itself around her face 5 times over. Fucking spectacular!"

The time of our life. Never to be forgotten. Thank you to everybody who made it such a great time:

Laurence, Rowan, Phoebe, Liora, Blaise, Zak, Dylan, Kyle, Dan, Lindy, Max, Joanne, Ingrid, Holly, Ari, Hannah, Tarryn, Huw, Wes, Greg

Rock on!!!

Lego... G-d's Creation

Just felt like writing. No special reason. No special topic. No special ideas as such, yet. My fingers just longed to touch the keyboard and do something productive. I am currently lying down in my bed. It's 5.41 pm. Robin Williams stand-up is playing in the background... genius. He is currently calling g-d a stoner. Brave man, he could regret that in 30-40 years. Unless the Almighty has a sense of humor.

My eyes are slowly wandering around the room, looking for something to spark my fingers back into action.

Empty vodka bottles.
Stereo.
Television... blessed, blessed television.
Lava lamp.
German flag (I can't explain it to myself, so you have NO chance).
Stolen road sign. It says "Keep Left". Good advice if you're driving in the wrong lane.
Beer poster. No explanation required there.
A small fort made of Lego - now THERE'S a story.

Let me start by saying that Lego is one of the world's greatest inventions. I also recently discovered that it is for ages 4 - 40, as opposed to 4-8 which is what it says on the box. Me and one of my friends were bored and found a big, dusty cardboard box on the highest shelf in my room. Partially hidden out of view, it called to us. As we opened it, the excitement generated by what we saw was so intense that if an adult was in the room, he would think that I was just an over-sized preschooler.

Yes, we were bored beforehand to the point that we actually were excited by the prospect of Lego. But once we started building, there was nowhere else that I'd rather be (but exceptions might include relaxing with P. Diddy on his yacht in Monte Carlo, having dinner with Heidi Klum, or discussing the true meaning of life with Monty Python). But back to Lego... So while we were mucking around, it turned out that Lego was a good conversation starter. Whilst fidgeting and laughing we hear the door knock. 3 more of my friends just turned up... and decided to join us. So Lego is now a good conversation starter AND a fantastic bonding item. Is there anything it can't do?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANYWAY, the moral of the story is that maybe being childish once in a while can be good for the mind and the heart. We told old jokes, laughed at each other's crappy creations and became that much closer to each other.

And on top of everything else... I now have a wicked-cool, heavily guarded fort made of Lego.

Ebb And Flow

The feeling of permanent confusion has settled in. It started like the tide; came and went as it pleased, not really having an impact on the details of my life. But like in the real world, ocean levels are rising and suddenly the reliable coming and going of the tide is more threatening. Now it affects everything, especially since it refuses to go back out...

This feeling like something - or someone - is missing grows all the time. And it hurts. Not only does it hurt, but it's depressing. It creates a weight that shouldn't be there - like an ant carrying... well, anything. I don't know what to do. I sit in front of the TV, flicking through the channels, hoping and praying that something will be said that will inspire me or guide me to what it is I'm supposed to be doing. The feeling that everything I do and say is meaningless, and that my existence is only fulfilling a fraction of its potential is unnerving.

Writing has become my release. But eventually it too will lose it's power of distraction. I feel like I have very little time to do so much, to experience so much, to see so much, to say so much...

I don't know... maybe I need to get out of here. Maybe I need to leave everything behind for a while. Friends, family, acquaintances and even the random strangers that I seem to keep running into without ever saying a word. Something out there is pulling me. But what is it? WHERE is it? Why me?

I have been given too much. I haven't earned what I have been given. I didn't ask for what I have been given, and while it gives me the opportunity to excel it also acts as a counter-weight by building social barriers and mental barriers. So many things in my life I want to change, and so many I can't. It just adds to the futility and the feeling of emptiness.

Somebody will come and save me. Something will come and save me. It's human nature. It's the ebb and flow of mankind. Helplessness... Discovery... Happiness...

Boredimus Maximus

Who does she think she is? A funny version of Kathy Griffin? Let me attempt to explain something to this monstrosity and embarrassment of a lecturer. You are NOT funny. You are NOT a good lecturer. And you DEFINITELY do NOT speak good English.

Allow me to paint a portrait for whoever is lucky enough to be reading this incredibly angry rant. You walk into your two hour marketing lecture which has been moved to 4pm on a Friday (your original day off) and find that instead of last year's brilliant, genius, charismatic and g-d like lecturer has been replaced by a chinese, monotone, 4'5", bad english-speaking and news agency-owning midget. Tears welled up in my eyes as I mentally snapped every pencil in the lecture theater.

THEN, just to smooth things over she decides that she wants to be a comedian for the first five minutes. Opening joke: "Hi, I'm your lecturer for this semester". More pencil snapping occurs...

I sat there for two hours, wishing for the projector to break down, a small zoo's-worth of animals to come stampeding in and for it to start raining beer all simultaneously. This would achieve a number of things. Firstly, the lecture would have to be stopped because the projector would stop working. Secondly, I would get drunk. Thirdly, the animals running around would provide fantastic entertainment and a classic moment to add to the memory bank.

This was the first lecture for this subject and I had already mentally snapped 36 pencils, 108 pens and 14 highlighters. Now I have set a precedent and need to beat this record next Friday, assuming I actually show up for that freak show.

Definition:
Boredimus Maximus
adj.
1. The condition of being so fucking bored that you actually start wishing to get totally drunk and watch a small zoo's-worth of animals start running around in the same room.
2. Having a monotone lecturer that you have troubles understanding and can't see because she is shorter than the podium she stands behind teaching you a potentially fun and entertaining subject that she has turned into bad cheese.

Blast From The Past

Weirdest thing... strangest thing... most out-of-the-blue thing. I'm a proud member of Facebook, and about a week ago 4 people from my old school suddenly added me as friends. This doesn't sound like anything special, right? HOWEVER, I went to school in Vienna, Austria for 6 years. We left and moved to Australia over 10 years ago. Now does it seem more impressive?

Then, to finalize the feeling of surreality, they added me to a group called AIS Vienna Class '06. It's specially designed for members of our year level who would have graduated in 2006, but because they left the school early or moved overseas weren't able to graduate there. There are currently 89 members. Thats 89 people I grew up with, and I remember them all. We laughed, cried and played soccer in knee-high snow. I had my first kiss in that school, behind the shed next to the bus-park. I joined my first basketball and soccer team. Had my first snow fight. Ah the memories...

It's incredible that I'm reunited with these people. They helped create who I am today, they shaped my future. I loved every moment I spent with them, and it's mind-boggling that we have found each other again. I wish I could see them again...

Adorable Nutcase

In this strange, twisted world of ours exists an even more strange, twisted man by the name of Isaac. A personal trainer by profession and a psychopath that you want to hug and hang out with by nature. Women want to be with him, and men want to be with the women that want to be with him. Very few men actually WANT to be him.

But here is where it gets strange... if he is such a spastic around men, then what is he like around women? To borrow a poker term, I'd go "all-in" and bet my reputation (worth approximately $38.90) that he's not the same. I want to meet this alter-ego of his. That is the only way to describe it... a seperate, living, breathing being that only comes out at that cheeky glimpse of cleavage at a popular bar or nudist colony.

This man has been training me for over 2 years now. This man who created the sentence "You know what affecteded", "Better to be one-eyed than bung-eyed" and a dance move called "The Seizure" is without a doubt the coolest, friendliest, most psychotic person on the face of the worth. He is the adorable nutcase. We could use more of them in this world... no bullshit.