#73: Tests and Tribulations

So it's been a while.

However, I couldn't stay away for any longer as I feel the overwhelming need to vent to you all. I am going to follow a tangent that is somewhat out of the ordinary. To the average teenager, the fact that an obstacle in life is actually a breeze would be an absolute gift, however I find myself fairly outraged about the HPT examination sat to progress from my P1 to P2 license.

Basically, this test seemed to be created by a 5-year-old. The person is shown a series of clips, viewing the road through the windscreen as if sitting in the driver's seat. You touch the screen if you think an action should be taken, such as slowing down or making a right-hand turn at an intersection (actually, those are the only two things they ask you to do). The practicality of this computer-based text is almost nil, as the person sitting the test can easily pass it by pressing the screen immediately for the ones where deceleration is needed and not pressing the screen at all when deciding the best time to begin making a right-hand turn. The stigma around red-p-platers seems to disappear once you move on to greens, a sense of maturity and respectability follows you as you overtake an unplated car rather than disdain and disgust. Don't get me wrong, I'm very happy that I can now load up my car with a lot more drunkards past the 23rd hour, but I think society needs to take a good look at itself when it demeans reds when greens are so easy to obtain.

The idiot behind the wheel is still the same, doesn't matter if they're covered by red or green.



Lovemeg

#72: Tedious Ramblings

So I have a dilemma.

I find that even when I get a full night of sleep, I'm still extremely lethargic. A few times today I've stood up and felt like I was going to topple over again due to lightheadedness, which I knew isn't due to a lack of blood sugar because I eat like a diabetic now because of Joel (Mmm so much junkfood in his cupboard, which now everyone has the pin code too). Oh well, I'll try again tonight to go to bed early, but I think I'll find that I still won't be able to have one of those TV wake-ups (You know, the whole stretch-up-high-and-big-yawn,-jump-right-out-of-bed days). I think it may possibly be the coldness of Bathurst getting to me. I am slowly acclimatising to the temperature here, however I think I might possibly keel over and die when the snow comes.

Oh, and I think you should all visit http://peaspodcast.blogspot.com/ if you haven't already.



Lovemeg

#71: Apologies

So I deleted the last post.

Apologies to all of those who I hurt.



Lovemeg

#70: Broken Promises

So basically, I fail.

I made all these promises to myself the other week. I was going to wake up early and finish my assignments off so I wouldn't be in a mad rush like I was at the end of last term. But, somehow, I find myself with a tonne of work that still has to be completed for next week. I know that my best work is produced when I'm under pressure, however the looming ghoul of exams is starting to send chills down my spine.

Hold on.



Lovemeg

#69: Good News Week

So the news that I've been promising you all is finally here.

Elise and I have decided to combine our powers into one to save the planet! Well, actually, just to create a random podcast that doesn't particularly centre on anything. Due to the difficulty we are having with hosting websites, the official site is still not up, however I can provide you with a direct link to the sound file. The podcast will be uploaded to iTunes within the next few days, so sit tight.

Episode One - Tangents

Happy listening.



Lovemeg

#68: Hit the Nail on the Head

So this song basically sums up my life right now.

Plus I love Sparkadia. Someone buy me their album.





Seriously.



Lovemeg

#67: Forget Me Not

So basically I'm the worst blogger in the world.

A fair bit has happened in the last few weeks, however I'm not going to post about them because I wouldn't be doing the events complete justice. Instead, I'm going to post the article I wrote for the Uni magazine yesterday. I promise from now on I will post every day, even if it's just a sentence...

What’s on the Box?

“Quitting is hard. Not quitting is harder”

Well, der. If you’re stupid enough to smoke a pack-a-day, of course your rotten lungs are going to find it hard to quit. And that’s exactly what I don’t want to see while I’m eating.

The increasing amount of gory ads during “dinner time”, including gangrene-ridden feet, weeping mouth cancer and the afore mentioned blackened lungs, is really impacting on my quality time in front of the idiot box. The notion of “shock” ads is certainly an interesting one, generally showing the actors lying in a surgery, looking forlorn with a greenish overlay utilised to provoke emotions of helplessness. Their eyes, glistening with Vaseline, look deep into the camera and plead with you to quit the cigs. If the people of the world stopped smoking, these ads would be banished. But now it’s not just lung cancer that draws attention. The sponge dripping with black dye that was on high rotation a couple of years back has been overtaken by Sally and her malignant mole. Like a huge, white blob residing under the skin, the skin cancer has taken over the rest of her body. Cancerous cells have spread to the ends of every limb. Her back is split open, blood and guts spewing out all over the operating theatre. Mmm. Appetising.

Flick to Channel 7 and 9. Today Tonight and A Current Affair cop a lot of flak for their lack of quality journalism, however you have to acknowledge the hard work of the Corren and Grimshaw teams to come up with such gripping gore stories every week. You change the channel over and suddenly- MISHAPEN BOOB JOB or CHEMICAL FACE PEEL GONE WRONG or BABY WITHOUT A FACE… Que the reappearance of the food I only just swallowed. Just when you think there is no where else for these tabloids to go, they find someone else with a gruesome story: a tale of twisted limbs, brutal attacks or birth defects. My patience grows thinner and thinner.

Flick to Channel 10. Surely there’s something stomachable on there. Seriously. Trusty old soapies won’t bring up any subject matter dangerous to my gag-reflex. After being an avid watcher of Neighbours during my junior high school years, I decided to sit down the other evening and see if I could pick up on the story lines following a lengthy hiatus. Not long into the show, I realised that this would be impossible. The influx of new characters has transformed Ramsay Street into Slutville. Imogen Bailey? Really? Why the heck is a person with a reputation like hers even allowed to be shown during prime time? It is also not humanly possible to gather that many blonde women in one place, and there is nothing worse than 20-year-olds pretending to be hormonal, sexually-charged teenagers, decked out in Cotton On prints and last year’s hairstyles. Gag me with a spoon.

Overall, television programming during the time you sit down to eat dinner is ridiculous. Sure, ABC news is probably the most sensible option, but after watching commercial news at 6, I just need some soft, light-hearted, bloodless viewing. And I definitely can’t turn to SBS for that, where every story contains a factor of death or destruction. Here is my predicament… But it gets worse…

So, will Big Brother be the saviour of dinner time TV?

I don’t think so!



Lovemeg