By Lauren Roodt
Once again, dear friends, my ambitious promises of starting to study this weekend have been blasted to the nether regions of outer space. Swot week has officially begun and being me I should be burried nose deep in my books. But not today.
But can you really blame us? We all know that the last two weeks of term are everybody's nightmare. Somehow all due dates seems to accumulate in those last few days when most of our energy has been sapped from our bodies. Three essays and that dreaded journalism portfolio later I am finished. But although some relief has arrived I am soon to be reminded that the struggle is not over yet. The curse of the journ portfolio will last for the next three years. As usual I didn't listen to Nicky Cockcroft when she gave us months of warning to get cracking. So when at midnight I was still up trying to perfect that motivation letter I was well informed of the pain that is to come.
While some of the weight was lifted off my shoulders as I handed my envelope over, another small chunk landed. The dreaded wait had begun. What's worse is that we still have to write the exam and try to do our best with the knowledge that we stand a chance (al be it) small that we will not be amongst the chosen ones. But with this knowledge comes motivation to make those exams my b*!t#%. So I guess that with every stress there comes relief, with all relief there has to be stress. For without darkness what is light. So what is stress without relief? It is part of the never ending circle of life.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Like a hyper-active kid pumped full of sugar
By Lauren Roodt
Ok so it has been brought to my attention that I failed to complete me duties as a professional blogger ( yes, now that I can proudly say that I am in the top three blogs of my journ class I do consider myself a pro- sorry Sim but I am gonna boast!).
Once upon a time I promised that I would tell you the story of my community service and of our res awards evening. Well, that's old news now and it would be a painful and embarrassing time to conjure back the memories of scrubbing walls and of being awarded the "Studious Sex Slave" award. Now before you jump to conclusions about my sexual habits, read my opinion piece.
Anyway... yesterday was the last day of lecturers for first year! Can I get an AMEN! No more assignments, no more tuts, no more essays and no more walking to class in the rain. But with every good thing there is a bad. In ten days my exams start. Caution- you are about to enter a high stress zone. But this sort of stress is different. It's tollerable. And the knowledge that you will be going home in 18 days is enough to make me fly through like a hyper-active kid pumped full of sugar.
But today I have promised myself some precious "me time". Movies, nail polish, Sharks rugby, tai food and my girls. A small chunk of heaven has landed in my lap. And boy am I going to milk it for all it's worth!
Friday, October 24, 2008
The End of an Era
This was, initially, going to be a full and detailed report on the great South African – New Zealand war, and how its impact on South African citizens will slowly make the yellow bass our national fish, but then I discovered that the leading “Earthanoids” have a brand new prerequisite assignment for me. Usually I would feel above such menial and mundane tasks, but tonight I will attempt to blend into your earth-grub ranks... Hooray for you.
Now, onto the issue at hand, well one of them for now. However, before I get started, I want to make one thing very clear; being a well over 900 year old Xel’Shorian, I have no peers among you Earthanoids, but I will, for the sake of this article, refer to the multitudes of earth-grubs that are attempting to study “Journalism and Media Studies 1” my peers, even though it kills me to say it. Now, moving on: the last five weeks of blogging have been a joy, Mooks, Cannibal and I have enjoyed having the freedom to say what we need to say, to free your people from the lies and hypocrisy, without being calling us horrid names like: “insane” and “Australians”. Blogging in general, as a genre, is a wonderful thing to say the least. Blogging provides all the information that we could possibly ask for; there are so many people with different opinions, view and ideals, that anything is possible. There can be no doubt in anyone’s mind, that blogging is a relevant and powerful form of journalism. What is even a bigger bonus is the fact that you can select what you want to read, and even comment on it. This brings me back to the first blog I looked at; what a terrible piece of writing I beheld that day, my instincts told me to flee and press the “back” button, but then I thought: “Hey, this person could use a little dose of constructive criticism”, and that’s what I did. Admittedly, they did not take it as well as I had hoped, but at least they had something passionate to write about in their next entry. With blogging, everybody wins! I get to say what is necessary, and people can write and grow as journalist. If anyone disagrees with me; just accept you are wrong and move on. The only people who would want to disagree, anyway, would be those individuals who see themselves as the “Jaded Crowd” of know-it-all’s, who have a need to curse and insult people for no reason, for no reason other than that they think it’s cool and clever.
As I have touched on already, I am not the type of person who swears/curses and insults people for no reason; which has proven to be of some use to me because it has not hindered or restrained me in what I write on the blog (or as we psychopaths like to call it: “The Tablet of Truth”), because you can write whatever you like, just so long as it does not amount to hate speech, slander or undermines anyone. There is a fine line that people must discover between criticism and insult. Let me elaborate by giving you an example; you cannot criticise a quadriplegic for being in a wheelchair, that would probably be belittling them, you would, however, criticise Jacob Zuma for telling the country that a shower will prevent the HIV/AIDS virus from infecting you. Thus you criticise a person’s mistakes, without openly calling them things like “you idiot”. You do not “criticise” someone in a wheelchair for being a quadriplegic because they cannot help their disability. Great, one more piece of this discussion out the way, onward to new, greener pastures!
To ensure that there is no hypocrisy here, I will now constructively criticise myself. I would say that I’ve grown, on a scale of 1 – 10, by a 7, there has been improvement, but I could have done more. I’ve become a better and more creative writer. I’ve learned to research better, and working in a group has become significantly easier. I could have done many more post (i.e. been more productive), as ideas come very easily to me, but time was a factor that was not on my side, but despite that, I still managed to put in quite a few extra postings. Enough of this, back to the important bits!
I was lucky to be in a group with three fellow Xel’Shorians, who are on the same mission as I and thus see the world very similarly; through the eyes of a psychopath, which means we see the world the same, but our interpretations are different, that is why the beneficent Wise-One’s sent us together. Anyway, before I go off at a further tangent than what I’ve already, let’s talk about how a blog character can confine you to what you write, how you write, what your view should be and how you should put it. Well, this could be a potential problem if you were an apple trying to write like an orange, or if you were a Mexican, trying to write about life as an Eskimo. There is a simple solution to that problem, write as you! Stop trying to be clever, cute and funny because you are going to end up neck high in a pit, with your head covered in honey surrounded by bears. I, unlike most Earthanoids, took my own advice and wrote in my own character. Admittedly, having to write certain things that our beloved Sim and Alette had thought up was a crippling factor to my creativity, however, it was not a complete hindrance as it taught me to grow as an individual, and learn to cope with others telling you what to do amongst doing what you want, C’est la vie (I swear no one forced me into saying this, can you blame me for getting a little sentimental?).
For once I have had little to complain about, and after looking back at my year, and this courses I have that wonderful old feeling of nostalgia. It has been a joy creating and working on this blog, I cannot think of any direct hindrances, and just thinking that what I have said on my blog is available to multitudes of Earthanoids across the planet gives me the warm fuzzy feeling a parent gets from seeing little Timmy going off to his first day in Grade 00. Thus not only do my thoughts and comments get hurtled across the globe at the speed of light, but I have learned a great deal about writing and what my perceived audience might want. I have grown as a thinking contributing “person” in society, as a journalist and in my creativity. Looking back this has been a fun and educational experience, which I’m very thankful to have been given the opportunity to partake in.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
How to save a life
Ok, ok so swot week is coming up and we all know what that means for us Rhodents...parties! Excessive drinking to make up for the next 3 weeks of sobriety. And more situations in which you will possibly find yourself wanting out (maybe)! In this spirit, we present a guide to dealing with a drunk person, the signs to look out for, and how to handle the situation. Not Kill Them, But Actually Take Care Of Them.You’re welcome.
# 1 - RecognitionThe first step is to recognize someone who has had one too many, which is usually very easy to pick up on. These people tend to slur incoherently, bump into inanimate objects, and vomit at random intervals. If you see someone doing this, chances are they are drunk. If they’re doing this and they’re NOT drunk, then they probably have some sort of psychological issue, and you shouldn’t really be friends with them.
# 2 - DiscouragementThe next step in to discourage further drinking. Try distracting them, by punching them in the throat, or giving them a swift jab in the kidney area. This usually puts an end to any further drinking on their part. In severe cases, a stiff kick in the groin region may also be appropriate, although this tends to only work in male case studies.
# 3 - Mind GamesAt this point, you may also be able to get away with having fun at a drunk person’s expense, so hand them some water, and claim that it’s neat vodka. Chances are they won’t even notice, and you will have a good laugh as they pull faces downing the drink.
# 4 - PrecautionsDo your best to avoid them causing physical injury especially through falling on you. Tell them to stay at least five feet away from you and not to come any closer. If the person begins to heave try to help them to an appropriate place to vomit, such as the inside of their car, or in front of an attractive member of the opposite sex. One learns from extreme humiliation, and they will surely thank you for it the next morning.
# 5 - EncouragementOnce you tire of the neat vodka joke, encourage them to sip water with salt in it, as this will cause them to throw up alcohol. Make sure they are not lying down whilst throwing up, for risk of choking, causing you to have to then give them CPR, or something equally disgusting. Do you want to taste someone else’s vomit? Of course you don’t, so don’t let them lie down.
# 6 - HeroismIf you do find that the person is laying down when they begin to vomit, it’s important not to panic, but to calmly kick them in the solar plexus instead. They will then automatically assume the foetal or recovery position (on their side with the higher knee bent) to prevent choking. Congratulations, you have just saved a life.
# 7 - CompanionshipThis is the important part - DO NOT leave someone who is very drunk to fall asleep alone. Stay in the room with them - go through their wallet or read their private cell phone messages to keep you amused, but keep them in the room with you. Alternatively, you can also pair them up with a particularly ugly member of the opposite sex, allowing you to relentlessly mock them about it the next day.
# 8 - EvaluationCheck regularly to ensure they respond to being stirred. Say their name loudly, tell them their spouse is cheating on them, and look for a response. Watch the chest/abdomen for breathing movements. 12- 20 breaths per minute is normal.
# 9 - DiagnoseIf they are not breathing and are unresponsive to being prodded and pinched firmly they may have alcohol poisoning, or could possibly be dead. Blue lips, rapid pulse, cold clammy hands/ feet, and rigor mortis are the usual signs, although they may just be cold and stiff. Or happen to have blue lips for some strange genetic reason. The important thing is not to judge, just diagnose.
# 10 - ActIf you do spot these signs don’t panic - unless they are dead of course, in which case you probably should panic - and call an emergency number immediately. Explain the situation clearly.
# 11 - MonitorStay with the person, keep them warm and continue to monitor breathing. If a qualified first aider is available feel free to call on them for help whilst waiting for the ambulance.
# 12 - DelegateIf someone else is present, send them to direct the ambulance paramedics to your position.
Tips To Remember
Do not jeopardize your own health when looking after the person. Do not try to physically lift a drunken person or stop someone much larger than you falling down, as you may injure your back. Rather stand back and watch them fall, as when they are drunk, they are virtually indestructible.
If someone gets into a drunken state having taken in seemingly little alcohol they may be a lightweight and may be cruelly mocked for several weeks there-after. Of course, it’s also possible that their drink may have been spiked, but it’s more likely that they’re just a lightweight.
Telling the person the danger they put themselves in may stop them from over-indulging again, but it will also make you sound like a whiny Goody Two Shoes. Don’t do it.
Have a great weekend!
Lauren :D
Adapted from this article
# 1 - RecognitionThe first step is to recognize someone who has had one too many, which is usually very easy to pick up on. These people tend to slur incoherently, bump into inanimate objects, and vomit at random intervals. If you see someone doing this, chances are they are drunk. If they’re doing this and they’re NOT drunk, then they probably have some sort of psychological issue, and you shouldn’t really be friends with them.
# 2 - DiscouragementThe next step in to discourage further drinking. Try distracting them, by punching them in the throat, or giving them a swift jab in the kidney area. This usually puts an end to any further drinking on their part. In severe cases, a stiff kick in the groin region may also be appropriate, although this tends to only work in male case studies.
# 3 - Mind GamesAt this point, you may also be able to get away with having fun at a drunk person’s expense, so hand them some water, and claim that it’s neat vodka. Chances are they won’t even notice, and you will have a good laugh as they pull faces downing the drink.
# 4 - PrecautionsDo your best to avoid them causing physical injury especially through falling on you. Tell them to stay at least five feet away from you and not to come any closer. If the person begins to heave try to help them to an appropriate place to vomit, such as the inside of their car, or in front of an attractive member of the opposite sex. One learns from extreme humiliation, and they will surely thank you for it the next morning.
# 5 - EncouragementOnce you tire of the neat vodka joke, encourage them to sip water with salt in it, as this will cause them to throw up alcohol. Make sure they are not lying down whilst throwing up, for risk of choking, causing you to have to then give them CPR, or something equally disgusting. Do you want to taste someone else’s vomit? Of course you don’t, so don’t let them lie down.
# 6 - HeroismIf you do find that the person is laying down when they begin to vomit, it’s important not to panic, but to calmly kick them in the solar plexus instead. They will then automatically assume the foetal or recovery position (on their side with the higher knee bent) to prevent choking. Congratulations, you have just saved a life.
# 7 - CompanionshipThis is the important part - DO NOT leave someone who is very drunk to fall asleep alone. Stay in the room with them - go through their wallet or read their private cell phone messages to keep you amused, but keep them in the room with you. Alternatively, you can also pair them up with a particularly ugly member of the opposite sex, allowing you to relentlessly mock them about it the next day.
# 8 - EvaluationCheck regularly to ensure they respond to being stirred. Say their name loudly, tell them their spouse is cheating on them, and look for a response. Watch the chest/abdomen for breathing movements. 12- 20 breaths per minute is normal.
# 9 - DiagnoseIf they are not breathing and are unresponsive to being prodded and pinched firmly they may have alcohol poisoning, or could possibly be dead. Blue lips, rapid pulse, cold clammy hands/ feet, and rigor mortis are the usual signs, although they may just be cold and stiff. Or happen to have blue lips for some strange genetic reason. The important thing is not to judge, just diagnose.
# 10 - ActIf you do spot these signs don’t panic - unless they are dead of course, in which case you probably should panic - and call an emergency number immediately. Explain the situation clearly.
# 11 - MonitorStay with the person, keep them warm and continue to monitor breathing. If a qualified first aider is available feel free to call on them for help whilst waiting for the ambulance.
# 12 - DelegateIf someone else is present, send them to direct the ambulance paramedics to your position.
Tips To Remember
Do not jeopardize your own health when looking after the person. Do not try to physically lift a drunken person or stop someone much larger than you falling down, as you may injure your back. Rather stand back and watch them fall, as when they are drunk, they are virtually indestructible.
If someone gets into a drunken state having taken in seemingly little alcohol they may be a lightweight and may be cruelly mocked for several weeks there-after. Of course, it’s also possible that their drink may have been spiked, but it’s more likely that they’re just a lightweight.
Telling the person the danger they put themselves in may stop them from over-indulging again, but it will also make you sound like a whiny Goody Two Shoes. Don’t do it.
Have a great weekend!
Lauren :D
Adapted from this article
The Worldwide Blogger Bake Off
by Lauren Roodt
“I’m sorry maam but would you like to take another loaf of bread. This one is bad” said the cashier to my mom. “On no-no I’m sure it’s fine. The girls have been picking at it non-stop!” my mum laughed. My sister and I could always be found sitting in the trolley, straddling a loaf of bread and devouring almost all of it before we reached the till. The smell from the bakery would hit us the moment we walked into Pick ‘n Pay. The fresh, warm, yeasty aroma of hot-out-of-the-oven bread was intoxicating. We would attack the crust first. Then plunge our greedy fists into its warm fleshy heart and pull out chucks of the still steaming white dough. As we dug deeper a small wall of crust would develop and we would launch our attack onto that. And so the process went until our stomachs were swollen and content.
Click the image to see more info
But sadly, my childhood memories are not shared by so many people of South Africa. Too many families are living below the breadline and the only memory a child has of bread is of the loaf which was handed to him through the Mercedes’ window. This is where you can play a part. Breadline Africa and The World-wide Blogger Bake Off are looking to develop a number of community kitchens by transforming shipping containers into places of food production and distribution. These kitchens will provide food to the destitute as well as create job opportunities in the poor communities. This is a charity to get involved in where you will actually do more than just donate money. You will actually be changing a life.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Shoots of Life
Hey hey. Go have a look at my photo blog if you like photography. Wait, now that I say this I suddenly feel very vain. Oh well go check out my stuff. Basically it's all strategy so that I have more to write on the application form for JMS 3. What? Time is money. And the sooner I start the better.
This years portfolio was about as empty as a Rhodents bottle of Crackling. It was an exercise in 'ego demolishment'. While standing waiting for the over worked Jac Lab printers to spew my work out I snuck a few sneaky peaks at the others JMS 2 applications which were dribbling out. They were thick and full of extra articles and interesting work. Damn mine only had a silly certificate and an article I did for my vac work (although it was front page- beat that).
This whole porfolio business is really ridiculous. It should be based on marks and thats it. It is an act of cruel bias. One question they ask... are you differently abled... why does this matter? Its your brain that counts nothing else. This is an academic institution not a sports ground. Yes I sound mean but honestly, if they can put that on their form then can someone put that their mom died this year? It is exactly the same thing! In fact mom dying seems worse to me. It's just something that suck out its fat bruised thumb at me. No biggie. I don't know about you but I would rather know that I got in to JMS 2 because I will do the best job and have the skills to do it and not just because I have a dud leg.
But back to the main cause of my post... go have a look at my pics. Leave comments, constructive crits, anything really.
Loving and leaving, Mooks
This years portfolio was about as empty as a Rhodents bottle of Crackling. It was an exercise in 'ego demolishment'. While standing waiting for the over worked Jac Lab printers to spew my work out I snuck a few sneaky peaks at the others JMS 2 applications which were dribbling out. They were thick and full of extra articles and interesting work. Damn mine only had a silly certificate and an article I did for my vac work (although it was front page- beat that).
This whole porfolio business is really ridiculous. It should be based on marks and thats it. It is an act of cruel bias. One question they ask... are you differently abled... why does this matter? Its your brain that counts nothing else. This is an academic institution not a sports ground. Yes I sound mean but honestly, if they can put that on their form then can someone put that their mom died this year? It is exactly the same thing! In fact mom dying seems worse to me. It's just something that suck out its fat bruised thumb at me. No biggie. I don't know about you but I would rather know that I got in to JMS 2 because I will do the best job and have the skills to do it and not just because I have a dud leg.
But back to the main cause of my post... go have a look at my pics. Leave comments, constructive crits, anything really.
Loving and leaving, Mooks
Another Comment- boy this is like soooo totally fun yeah...
So here's another random comment to spice up your life. This time we treat you to an opinion piece...
*Ice-Cream*: Have the same flavoured ice-cream...
"My, my, my. From the word go I got the impression that you have not personally been in a mixed relationship. Your assumptions are generalised and sound like they have been spoon fed to you by pre-1994 parents (I can say this because mine are the same). I too have certain reservations about mixed relationships but would never go as far as to rule the notion out completely. 1 in 2 relationships end in divorce. Have you done any research into how many mixed relationships fail? You might be surprised...You make learning about someone else’s culture and ways of life sound painful. I have been doing Xhosa at Rhodes and as a White I have learned some pretty incredible things about stuff that I once ridiculed about the culture. What is life without the challenge of embracing new ideas? “If you’re not living on the edge, you are taking up too much space.” You say it yourself; a couple needs to be ‘romantically compatible’, but don’t you think that if love is a chemical response then all the chemicals are the same regardless of you r skin tone?"
Toodles, Lauren
*Ice-Cream*: Have the same flavoured ice-cream...
"My, my, my. From the word go I got the impression that you have not personally been in a mixed relationship. Your assumptions are generalised and sound like they have been spoon fed to you by pre-1994 parents (I can say this because mine are the same). I too have certain reservations about mixed relationships but would never go as far as to rule the notion out completely. 1 in 2 relationships end in divorce. Have you done any research into how many mixed relationships fail? You might be surprised...You make learning about someone else’s culture and ways of life sound painful. I have been doing Xhosa at Rhodes and as a White I have learned some pretty incredible things about stuff that I once ridiculed about the culture. What is life without the challenge of embracing new ideas? “If you’re not living on the edge, you are taking up too much space.” You say it yourself; a couple needs to be ‘romantically compatible’, but don’t you think that if love is a chemical response then all the chemicals are the same regardless of you r skin tone?"
Toodles, Lauren
Monday, October 20, 2008
Aisukurimu
Lauren Roodt
Ok so I am full to the brim with Japanese right now (for those of you who can't speak it- Aisukurimu is ice cream- get it?). But Japanese is not the only thing which I have had my full of lately. Dulce's ice cream is oozing through my veins and pumping with the fresh smell of mint-choc chip.
Ladies and Gentleman I present to you THE BEST Friday treat ever. Do yourself a favour and go down to Dulce's. It's not far along High Street. Just a few steps away from Mad Hatters. You will spot the welcoming blue umbrella's from a way back.
This has been our ritual since day one at Rhodes. Friday afternoon is a date with the ice creamc cream (wo)man. Strawberry and Chocolate combo's. Dulce's death by chocolate. Caramel Chip. Vanilla. Fudge. It has to be a sin.
Lately I was rewarded for my commitment to Dulce. Somehow the Dulce angels were above me because, being the responsible blogger that I am, I stumbled upon a very kind Shaun Okes who was giving away Dulce gift vouchers on his blog. I say it again... giving away Dulce gift vouchers. Now pardon me but no person in their right mind would do this and I hope that it is safe to assume that he lives in the bundu's where he has not been blessed by the gift which is Dulce.
Well, a short little finger exercise on the keyboard and the voucher was mine. So now I live in happy heaven as I will never be rid of the aisukurimu pumping in my veins.
Ok so I am full to the brim with Japanese right now (for those of you who can't speak it- Aisukurimu is ice cream- get it?). But Japanese is not the only thing which I have had my full of lately. Dulce's ice cream is oozing through my veins and pumping with the fresh smell of mint-choc chip.
Ladies and Gentleman I present to you THE BEST Friday treat ever. Do yourself a favour and go down to Dulce's. It's not far along High Street. Just a few steps away from Mad Hatters. You will spot the welcoming blue umbrella's from a way back.
This has been our ritual since day one at Rhodes. Friday afternoon is a date with the ice creamc cream (wo)man. Strawberry and Chocolate combo's. Dulce's death by chocolate. Caramel Chip. Vanilla. Fudge. It has to be a sin.
Lately I was rewarded for my commitment to Dulce. Somehow the Dulce angels were above me because, being the responsible blogger that I am, I stumbled upon a very kind Shaun Okes who was giving away Dulce gift vouchers on his blog. I say it again... giving away Dulce gift vouchers. Now pardon me but no person in their right mind would do this and I hope that it is safe to assume that he lives in the bundu's where he has not been blessed by the gift which is Dulce.
Well, a short little finger exercise on the keyboard and the voucher was mine. So now I live in happy heaven as I will never be rid of the aisukurimu pumping in my veins.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
The good old days
By Lauren Roodt
The dining hall is known to concoct some pretty revolting meals every now and again (to be kind) but once a year they seem to pull out all of the stops and treat us to a morning of bliss.
Although my tummy is grumbling by 8am I restrain the hungry hands reaching for that packet of Oats-o-easy. Nothing and I mean nothing must enter this stomach before ten o'clock. It is brunch day. The one day of the semester which we long for. That one special day during which we wish we could stay in the dining hall forever.
Sadly, brunch came and went but one similarity between that day and any ordinary day is the conversations which happen in the dining hall. You will learn to use the dining hall to your advantage. Especially during exams. Anything to avoid having to go back to your room and study. You will have that extra slice of toast, the third cup of coffee and those topics of discussion which once put you to sleep will suddenly become the most riveting conversations of your life!
Lately, dinner time conversation has focused on childhood memories. We all remember the cartoon jingles of Recess, Pepper Anne, and The Magic School Bus. We discuss where parents went right and where parents went wrong. We remember the birthday parties, squirting sunlight liquid down slippery slides and finding sweets on treasure hunts.
The dining hall is known to concoct some pretty revolting meals every now and again (to be kind) but once a year they seem to pull out all of the stops and treat us to a morning of bliss.
Although my tummy is grumbling by 8am I restrain the hungry hands reaching for that packet of Oats-o-easy. Nothing and I mean nothing must enter this stomach before ten o'clock. It is brunch day. The one day of the semester which we long for. That one special day during which we wish we could stay in the dining hall forever.
Sadly, brunch came and went but one similarity between that day and any ordinary day is the conversations which happen in the dining hall. You will learn to use the dining hall to your advantage. Especially during exams. Anything to avoid having to go back to your room and study. You will have that extra slice of toast, the third cup of coffee and those topics of discussion which once put you to sleep will suddenly become the most riveting conversations of your life!
Lately, dinner time conversation has focused on childhood memories. We all remember the cartoon jingles of Recess, Pepper Anne, and The Magic School Bus. We discuss where parents went right and where parents went wrong. We remember the birthday parties, squirting sunlight liquid down slippery slides and finding sweets on treasure hunts.
It saddens me to think that the children of today are not going to experience these thrills of childhood. Instead they will rememeber the first sex scene that they saw on TV at the age of 5, the first time a boy touched them at the age of 9, their first encounter with rape and murder, the initial thrill of getting their first push up bra- at age 11. Children are growing up too fast these days (gosh don't I sound old!). But it's true, those days are gone.
We reminisce about being children. Some of us wish that we could go back while the rest say that they would be happy to be stuck at 18. But no matter what age we wish to be we all smile and aaaahhh at times gone by. Here's hoping that in 10 years time, when we all have babies and jobs, that we will look back on varsity and laugh and aaahhh about what we got up to in 'the good old days'. And here's hoping that our kids (please not soon) will remember sand castle and water fights.
The Wizard of Oz
Ok so I have 20 minutes to write 200 words... that is 10 words per minute excluding the breaks during which I stop to take a sip of the BOILING hot water next to me.
I have never, never, never experienced heat as extreme as this. I live where it is known to snow one month and then two months later it is a scorching day but this is something completely new to my blood. It burns! I can't think, can't sleep and definately cannot concentrate on that bloody Journ portfolio which is due tomorrow.
We had our Res photo today. Dress code- wait for it- black. Black?! Why?! After two minutes in the sun I was sweating more than a fat man on a tread-mill. It is intense! Grahamstown is known to throw out some pretty strange weather patterns but this is just too much!
Thank goodness for my granny's old fan. Cranked up to full blast (screw the electricity bill- I'm hot) it relieves my sticky skin. Without it I worry that I may melt away like the Wicked Witch of the West.
Yours in melting,
Lauren
I have never, never, never experienced heat as extreme as this. I live where it is known to snow one month and then two months later it is a scorching day but this is something completely new to my blood. It burns! I can't think, can't sleep and definately cannot concentrate on that bloody Journ portfolio which is due tomorrow.
We had our Res photo today. Dress code- wait for it- black. Black?! Why?! After two minutes in the sun I was sweating more than a fat man on a tread-mill. It is intense! Grahamstown is known to throw out some pretty strange weather patterns but this is just too much!
Thank goodness for my granny's old fan. Cranked up to full blast (screw the electricity bill- I'm hot) it relieves my sticky skin. Without it I worry that I may melt away like the Wicked Witch of the West.
Yours in melting,
Lauren
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Comment on another Psychopaths Comic...A tad confused but what the hell?
Lauren Roodt
Ok so I'm not too sure if I have to post our comment about another First Year's Comic on here but whatever I'm too tired to make a fuss. Don't bother to read it- I don't even get the point of posting a comment about someone elses work on our blog?
But here we are... to please our masters...
"Ah ha! Finally a comic that actually has a clear disruption. Your narrative structure is clear and easy to follow as one event flows smoothly into another. Propp would be proud. I like the way in which you didn’t return to a clear equilibrium but instead left it up to the reader to determine what happened to the villain. I managed to identify Todorov’s characters and their functions– the princess and the villain- but had a bit of difficulty in deciding who the hero was. Did you have one or was he intentionally left out? You made great use of pictures and effects. The slightly blurred pictures really add to the dreamy feel which most first years experience. I thoroughly enjoyed your comic."
Ok so I'm not too sure if I have to post our comment about another First Year's Comic on here but whatever I'm too tired to make a fuss. Don't bother to read it- I don't even get the point of posting a comment about someone elses work on our blog?
But here we are... to please our masters...
"Ah ha! Finally a comic that actually has a clear disruption. Your narrative structure is clear and easy to follow as one event flows smoothly into another. Propp would be proud. I like the way in which you didn’t return to a clear equilibrium but instead left it up to the reader to determine what happened to the villain. I managed to identify Todorov’s characters and their functions– the princess and the villain- but had a bit of difficulty in deciding who the hero was. Did you have one or was he intentionally left out? You made great use of pictures and effects. The slightly blurred pictures really add to the dreamy feel which most first years experience. I thoroughly enjoyed your comic."
Just Gapping It
by Lauren Roodt
I was not the typical first year student from the word go. I did not want independence, I did not crave the rush of drinking copious amounts of fermented potato (vodka). I did not want to leave the safety of my cocoon and most certainly, unlike my crew, I did not like the idea of not knowing where I was going.
When I finished Matric in 2006 I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. My ideas metamorphosed as swiftly as the Croton life-form as I dabbled with a bit with the idea of interior design, which swiftly transformed into advertising which then morphed into forensic science. This developed into science journalism and then back to the creative stance with communication design. Truth be told - I still have no idea what I want to be.
That said, I am one step closer to knowing than my counterparts. I remember the drop in spirit that I felt each time somebody asked me what I was going to do after school. The way their faces crinkled when I told them that I was taking a gap year said it all. They all expected me to have an impressive plan and yet I had no idea. I thought that I would get extra credit for having the courage to admit that I wasn't going to university but all I got were wide eyes and fake smiles.
If I could give all teenagers a hefty dose of reality before they left school I would. The real limits of the outer world. University. Work. They are all so different to those sheltered school days where mom still packed your lunch and dad was always there to help out with physics. Life only becomes real when you walk out of the coil of education for the last time and into the general stream of adult life. My gap year taught me the pleasure of working (hard) for your money, it taught me how to deal with all sorts of life forms who I would generally choose to avoid. A gap year builds one's character and gives serious life lessons which most people only stumble upon when they are in the situation where mistakes should not, be made.
Not only did my gap year teach me priceless life lessons but it also boosted my confidence. It taught me to stick by my guns and to investigate all possible routes. Another friend of mine took a gap year and found the same. She came out of her shell and developed skills far beyond her expectations as she battled giants and squashed those preventing her way.
Before approaching the univeristy atmosphere I advise you to consider a gap year. But only if you are sure that you are going to do something with it. A mission without a path is a dangerous as an earthling under the influence of alcohol. I took me a while to find a job and enrol in part time courses and I would have benefited much more if my route had been mapped before the trip. So many people have negative thoughts about the gap year because too many take it as a chance to squat for a year with the parents. But the lessons I have learned and the skills which I have developed have been invaluable during my first year at university. Do not rush to varsity to impress your peers. Think carefully, if you are unsure about what to study, take a gap year. It won't be a waste of time.
Gap year or not, first year will still be a challenge but the skills you will learn from an active gap year will help you to survive just a little more during your great journey.
I was not the typical first year student from the word go. I did not want independence, I did not crave the rush of drinking copious amounts of fermented potato (vodka). I did not want to leave the safety of my cocoon and most certainly, unlike my crew, I did not like the idea of not knowing where I was going.
When I finished Matric in 2006 I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. My ideas metamorphosed as swiftly as the Croton life-form as I dabbled with a bit with the idea of interior design, which swiftly transformed into advertising which then morphed into forensic science. This developed into science journalism and then back to the creative stance with communication design. Truth be told - I still have no idea what I want to be.
That said, I am one step closer to knowing than my counterparts. I remember the drop in spirit that I felt each time somebody asked me what I was going to do after school. The way their faces crinkled when I told them that I was taking a gap year said it all. They all expected me to have an impressive plan and yet I had no idea. I thought that I would get extra credit for having the courage to admit that I wasn't going to university but all I got were wide eyes and fake smiles.
If I could give all teenagers a hefty dose of reality before they left school I would. The real limits of the outer world. University. Work. They are all so different to those sheltered school days where mom still packed your lunch and dad was always there to help out with physics. Life only becomes real when you walk out of the coil of education for the last time and into the general stream of adult life. My gap year taught me the pleasure of working (hard) for your money, it taught me how to deal with all sorts of life forms who I would generally choose to avoid. A gap year builds one's character and gives serious life lessons which most people only stumble upon when they are in the situation where mistakes should not, be made.
Not only did my gap year teach me priceless life lessons but it also boosted my confidence. It taught me to stick by my guns and to investigate all possible routes. Another friend of mine took a gap year and found the same. She came out of her shell and developed skills far beyond her expectations as she battled giants and squashed those preventing her way.
Before approaching the univeristy atmosphere I advise you to consider a gap year. But only if you are sure that you are going to do something with it. A mission without a path is a dangerous as an earthling under the influence of alcohol. I took me a while to find a job and enrol in part time courses and I would have benefited much more if my route had been mapped before the trip. So many people have negative thoughts about the gap year because too many take it as a chance to squat for a year with the parents. But the lessons I have learned and the skills which I have developed have been invaluable during my first year at university. Do not rush to varsity to impress your peers. Think carefully, if you are unsure about what to study, take a gap year. It won't be a waste of time.
Gap year or not, first year will still be a challenge but the skills you will learn from an active gap year will help you to survive just a little more during your great journey.
BOO! You Whore!
By Lauren Roodt
I sit awkwardly at the Friar’s table, my shoulder half turned away from my friend and a stranger who looks as if he is trying to merge his body with hers. I don’t want to be rude and pull my inebriated side-kick away from her tonsil-hockey match yet I think I should. But, I am very obviously a third wheel and because I am such a good friend, I grit my teeth and bear the gross spectacle before me. All the while I keep a disgusted mommy’s eye on her as he flirts his way into her pants. Before I have finished my first drink she has left with the boy.
While trying to drown out the sloppy noises emanating from behind me I did some thinking. In this day and age people have an opinion about everything and we are allowed to say it. Sex used to be a definite ‘no-no’ but now everybody talks about it. Whether you like it or not we all have something to say about it. Call me prude, but I sit very safely on the side of the fence labelled “Premarital = Bad”. You get those who aren’t doing it but don’t think it’s such a big deal. Then you get those who will not even consider marriage without testing the “skills”. Time and time again you hear it- “but, like, what if you aren’t compatible in bed? Your relationship won’t work.” Open your eyes! Your relationship won’t work either if you can’t remember all of your “sex-scapades”. What is going to make you stand out if he has already had it all?
Now I’m not totally unrealistic about this. Sex is great! It wouldn’t be so popular if it didn’t give you instant feelings of euphoria. Ok yes, so the urge to have sex is natural. Right, it raises you relationship to a completely new level both physically and emotionally. Sex will change your relationship whether it’s good or bad. But sex is the very reason for why so many people are walking around emotionally damaged. It is why 40 million people are living with AIDS. It is the reason for so many abortions. The reason why 1 in 2 marriages end in divorce is because your spouse has given that special thing to someone else. So sex makes you feel good about yourself, but that is up until the point during which you creep out of his room and then feel mortified when he walks straight past you the next day. I agree, sex isn’t the root of all society’s problems but I do think we need to be more picky when it comes to who we do and when.
At Rhodes there is a huge amount of pressure to have sex and to have as much of it as possible. After all, away from the ties of home, university is the place to do it! It is not only guys who feel the pressure. I run out of fingers while trying to count how many girls I know who have lost their virginity to a “stranger” as a first year at Rhodes. What saddens me is this... nobody has the balls to questions their friend’s actions. At high school, if you were sleeping around you kept it hushed. Now at varsity, just because life is liberal, no one challenges the majority. When a girl loses her virginity her friends are more horrified about who the guy was than by the fact that he was a complete stranger. Sex is becoming more of a game and it is progressively losing its significance. So many people are turning sex into a detached and unimportant act without realising the implications.
I am not trying to condemn sex but I have cried with enough of my friends to know the hurt which can come from “that one time”. I like to hope that there are those out there who do stop to think before diving into “pleasuredom” and that people do still exist who follow my sentiments. If not we are on our way to becoming a bunch of licentious whores.
I sit awkwardly at the Friar’s table, my shoulder half turned away from my friend and a stranger who looks as if he is trying to merge his body with hers. I don’t want to be rude and pull my inebriated side-kick away from her tonsil-hockey match yet I think I should. But, I am very obviously a third wheel and because I am such a good friend, I grit my teeth and bear the gross spectacle before me. All the while I keep a disgusted mommy’s eye on her as he flirts his way into her pants. Before I have finished my first drink she has left with the boy.
While trying to drown out the sloppy noises emanating from behind me I did some thinking. In this day and age people have an opinion about everything and we are allowed to say it. Sex used to be a definite ‘no-no’ but now everybody talks about it. Whether you like it or not we all have something to say about it. Call me prude, but I sit very safely on the side of the fence labelled “Premarital = Bad”. You get those who aren’t doing it but don’t think it’s such a big deal. Then you get those who will not even consider marriage without testing the “skills”. Time and time again you hear it- “but, like, what if you aren’t compatible in bed? Your relationship won’t work.” Open your eyes! Your relationship won’t work either if you can’t remember all of your “sex-scapades”. What is going to make you stand out if he has already had it all?
Now I’m not totally unrealistic about this. Sex is great! It wouldn’t be so popular if it didn’t give you instant feelings of euphoria. Ok yes, so the urge to have sex is natural. Right, it raises you relationship to a completely new level both physically and emotionally. Sex will change your relationship whether it’s good or bad. But sex is the very reason for why so many people are walking around emotionally damaged. It is why 40 million people are living with AIDS. It is the reason for so many abortions. The reason why 1 in 2 marriages end in divorce is because your spouse has given that special thing to someone else. So sex makes you feel good about yourself, but that is up until the point during which you creep out of his room and then feel mortified when he walks straight past you the next day. I agree, sex isn’t the root of all society’s problems but I do think we need to be more picky when it comes to who we do and when.
At Rhodes there is a huge amount of pressure to have sex and to have as much of it as possible. After all, away from the ties of home, university is the place to do it! It is not only guys who feel the pressure. I run out of fingers while trying to count how many girls I know who have lost their virginity to a “stranger” as a first year at Rhodes. What saddens me is this... nobody has the balls to questions their friend’s actions. At high school, if you were sleeping around you kept it hushed. Now at varsity, just because life is liberal, no one challenges the majority. When a girl loses her virginity her friends are more horrified about who the guy was than by the fact that he was a complete stranger. Sex is becoming more of a game and it is progressively losing its significance. So many people are turning sex into a detached and unimportant act without realising the implications.
I am not trying to condemn sex but I have cried with enough of my friends to know the hurt which can come from “that one time”. I like to hope that there are those out there who do stop to think before diving into “pleasuredom” and that people do still exist who follow my sentiments. If not we are on our way to becoming a bunch of licentious whores.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Madness Courses Through My Veins, Like Giant Radio-Active Rubber Pants...
Coming to a place such as Rhodes really exposes you to many types of view points, beliefs and cultures and you are forced to respect and tolerate them. Toleration is a good virtue to have, I agree that people should tolerate others, but it gets to a point where someone rubs their beliefs up and down your face till you want to slice their tongue off with a blunt pair of nail clippers.
One such view point seems to attract the sort of people who love to pick fights is feminism. Personally, I feel that women should be treated equally to men and they should not be belittled for being female, but some take feminism to a whole new level. A prime example is holding the door open for people; If someone follows you to a doorway and wishes to enter, I personally hold the door open for them, regardless if they are male or female, but some women decide to give me a mouthful on how I am degrading them by holding the door open, as this implies I view them as weak. This promptly makes me want to slam the open door into their faces and watch as they writhe around on the floor while their nose spouts out copious amounts of blood. What is happening to this world? Whatever happened to common courtesy? I don’t hold the door for people because I think they are weak, I do it to be polite!
Another view point many students have is that in order to wind down and de-stress from the weeks work is to waste a quarter of their pocket money getting so drunk that they cannot put together a coherent sentence, and then end the night by throwing up all they ate for supper and falling asleep. When did people start finding this behaviour acceptable or stress relieving? Firstly, it usually results in someone getting hurt or upset and secondly it just messes up your whole weekend! If they had rather chosen to buy a drink or two and get merry with their friends, they would wake up feeling fine, which will lead to them enjoying the Saturday instead of waking up at supper time with a splitting headache, knowing you have a mountain of work to catch up on Sunday. Does this sound fun? Does this sound stress relieving? I don’t think so. People should really find more constructive ways of having fun and better ways to spend their money. With the money they blew drinking, getting into Friars and buying complete strangers alcohol and cigarettes, they could have gone to the beach for the day or played paintball.
The final thing I have to complain about are certain members of our homosexual community who if asked to keep quiet for making a noise (this is just one example, but there are many) will immediately start telling me that I am homophobic and I’m telling them to keep quiet because they are gay. Once again my blood starts to boil and I want to grab the nearest rock and bash their ignorant, “you’re a gay-basher” card-pulling faces into the ground. Firstly, I ask anyone who is making excessive noise around me to be a little considerate and speak at a considerate noise level that does not hinder a person from hearing their own thoughts. Secondly, how can anyone misconstrue something so non-sexual into something which mocks their sexual orientation?
I could go on for hours at similarly stupid instances of people being morons, but that will get us nowhere. All I want to get across, is that people must stop victimising themselves, or using their differences to justify why they can do something wrong, or to get attention or even just to pick a fight. Respect peoples differences that include people who are not feminists, binge drinkers or heterosexuals. We all have the right to be what we want to be, so stop pushing your ideologies in my face and making me feel bad about mine.
Mr Lucifer
by Lauren Roodt
I thought about you today,
The old feelings of despair returned as though it were yesterday.
My swollen fingers fumbled for you in the dark
Where your sharp words and silver tongue were always
within arms reach waiting to lick at my flesh.
I saw my face reflected in your alluring eyes as I lay
outstretched on my bed drenched in the moonlights sweat
Turning your blade in my hands.
As if you would stop me I spoke aloud.
You relish the fact that you command me like a puppet
I believed that you had my best interests at heart but you only subdue my pains to trap me
into feelings of worthlessness and hate
You fed on my blood
Making me weaker with every turn
waiting for me to tumble over the edge into oblivion.
Your grey reflection lied to me as the red sap oozed from my veins
"Come on! Do it! Do it! Forget about your past, I'll pave the way..."
I thought of you today, as the
Web of addiction became too strong to bear,
I felt the eight destructive legs of death taking hold of my limbs again.
You promised to set me free from this world of violence and conviction,
that which you cause.
You captivated me as I slowly continued drawing you across my skin.
I thought of you today, as
I realised that I did not know myself
that I was living under your power and that you had taken over.
You pulsed through my body and distracted my thoughts.
You are a control freak,
Living the life that I could not call my own.
I thought it was my life but the devastation had killed me
I wished to destroy you but your force was too strong.
I had no say in the matter, my life was not my own.
You have manipulated me like a rag doll,
and when you grew tired you cast me aside.
But someone heard my cries for hep...
"Dear God, take control of my life, before it takes control of me."
Goodbye Mr Lucifer, now I am free.
I thought about you today,
The old feelings of despair returned as though it were yesterday.
My swollen fingers fumbled for you in the dark
Where your sharp words and silver tongue were always
within arms reach waiting to lick at my flesh.
I saw my face reflected in your alluring eyes as I lay
outstretched on my bed drenched in the moonlights sweat
Turning your blade in my hands.
As if you would stop me I spoke aloud.
You relish the fact that you command me like a puppet
I believed that you had my best interests at heart but you only subdue my pains to trap me
into feelings of worthlessness and hate
You fed on my blood
Making me weaker with every turn
waiting for me to tumble over the edge into oblivion.
Your grey reflection lied to me as the red sap oozed from my veins
"Come on! Do it! Do it! Forget about your past, I'll pave the way..."
I thought of you today, as the
Web of addiction became too strong to bear,
I felt the eight destructive legs of death taking hold of my limbs again.
You promised to set me free from this world of violence and conviction,
that which you cause.
You captivated me as I slowly continued drawing you across my skin.
I thought of you today, as
I realised that I did not know myself
that I was living under your power and that you had taken over.
You pulsed through my body and distracted my thoughts.
You are a control freak,
Living the life that I could not call my own.
I thought it was my life but the devastation had killed me
I wished to destroy you but your force was too strong.
I had no say in the matter, my life was not my own.
You have manipulated me like a rag doll,
and when you grew tired you cast me aside.
But someone heard my cries for hep...
"Dear God, take control of my life, before it takes control of me."
Goodbye Mr Lucifer, now I am free.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
III of III: Salvation or Annihilation
I apologise for my delay in writing the final piece of the prophecy. The only way I can try explain why there was this delay, is by telling you what I have just been through. Upon finishing translating the Himradoric scroll a portal opened up in front of my very eyes. I wish I could recount what my eyes witnessed there, but the Tallests have ordered me to not interfere with your worlds’ problems.
The end is close at hand; your fate is nearly sealed. I have said this before, you stand now at a cross road where one path leads to your species salvation and the other total annihilation. What I can do for you, however is describe the two possible endings in hope that you will make your choice more wisely.
Annihilation: The Earth is divided into 4 armies; each fighting for dominance of the planet. In the process of the war the Earth, it can only be described as dies... a great fire burns the world to cinders along with everything in it, and for millennia the Earth remains a smouldering planet of ash, dust and rock. Nothing grows, the sun remains blocked out by the smoke. Eventually the sun dies too, creating a vacuum that sucks your entire solar system in.
Salvation: The people of this planet see the error of their ways, peace reigns for a thousand years, and in that time every species on this planet is bred and placed on a massive star cruiser that has every environment known to this planet. Using the information told to you through the Himradoric scroll, you prepare to depart from this solar system to colonise deep space when the sun dies.
The rest I cannot say, I was not permitted to see further. I trust you will make the right choice...
Sunday, October 12, 2008
II of III The shape of things to come
After looking through more of the Forerunner Scrolls, I see that the seemingly apocalyptic vision of the future is not confined to earth and the human species alone. This Himradoric scroll was written for all those fledgling races out there who went down similar paths to your race.
There is mention of a race of beings called the “Ill’Kheathi”, which means “The Children of the Stars” in your earth tongue. The Ill’Kheathi started their existence much the same as humans, they built cities, interstellar transport and found cures for every disease. The Ill’Kheathi met their demise when they began thinking they were the most powerful beings in their universe, they saw themselves as being god-like, and like you, they had read the Himradoric scroll too, but they did not heed the warning, they thought it was a myth. Soon after, the Ill’Kheathi disappeared without a trace, with only the living Himradoric scroll to document their existence.
You are probably wondering how this applies to you? This is going to be your fate, your people are not changing despite my warnings. Eventually this earth will be drained of everything, it will dry out and be engulfed in fire, and you and your people will disappear. Judging by your history, how you humans exploited every natural resource you had, you would slaughter animals for no reason other than their skin, leaving the meat to rot, you send huge nets into the ocean trying to catch tuna, and when you pull the nets up you kill all the fish in it only to throw anything that’s not tuna into a heap to rot.
Does your species even deserve life? I think I can see how the end of the prophecy will be for you...
Friday, October 10, 2008
I of III Prologue
There is a primal question in us all; the question of how everything will end. Recently I came across an ancient Himradoric scroll, left for the xel’shorian by the ancient Forerunner. These provided some answers to this question, however, I feel it is necessary for you all to hear the history that precedes this vision of the end. Your human race has run its course, you have burned, destroyed and wasted everything you were given. You spent your energy perusing selfish desires, partaking in immoral acts and squandering the planet that should belong to all that live in it. The Ancients knew this would happen, and they foresaw your fate. They left this one prophesy that I have translated for you, however, the last part is missing...
Two millennia shall life flourish
A world of spirits wrapped in rock and flame
And the Great Creator shall turn his head
To the destructive ways, of the once cherished
One Decade of evil and strife
The earth shall darken and none know why
The end now is nigh
For the children that burned their way
Three xel’shorians find the truth
And attempt to correct their ways
From their efforts hope is conceived
And their fate then rests in their own hands
The Forerunner, I think, left the last piece out because there are two possible endings. Either the human race ignores the warnings and annihilates themselves, or they try and change in order to ensure their survival.
I will continue to try and decipher these scrolls. Watch this space, my young initiates, and you will find the answers you need.
Keep your peepers posted
Watch this blog, it promises to be epic. Find out who Ruth First's biggest man eater really is, discover our deepest secrets, uncover our most embarrassing moments. All here on the Memoirs! Plus an added bonus feature... Community Service 101...Don't miss out.
I(n)balance
by Lauren Roodt
I’m a loser aren’t I? It’s a Friday night and I am staying in. My friends call me the mom of the group. I stay in (too often), I worry when they get too drunk and I say words like “poofy” and “silly nana”.
But honestly, I have a good reason. This week has been a nightmare and the following is going to be even worse. Suddenly my life picks up speed. Why now?! My life reminds me of my Gran’s old Mazda. It was slow on the incline but the minute the peak (mid-year) was reached it accelerated at a rate of knots. That old ducky flew by so fast that you eye hardly registered the white streak the fleeing before you. I’ve been tied to the back of that speeding car door and it’s not stopping until next week Friday. If I’m lucky. Ha!
So here I sit, stuck in my room (am i allowed to say stuck if it’s voluntary?). Again I attempt to learn the six pages of Japanese vocab. Again I think of my sociology essay and again, oh yes, again my thoughts dodge the gaping mouth of Xhosa orals next week which promise to swallow me alive.
Meetings have abruptly become an unwelcome consumer of my time and more and more people seem to demand my attention (I’m not vain). Again, I have to start keeping a diary- an activity that I hate! I loathe being ordered. And once more I am tied to the burdens that rest on my back labelled- “Exams. Advance with caution.”
But, there does seem to be an upside to all this stress. The weekend. A chance to party (boy, I am such a hypocrite), the opportunity to relax and this weekend a special treat... our res awards evening. A night for our friends to exposes each other’s most embarrassing moments. Why do I hear whispers of dirty forty year olds and addictions? I’ll never tell. Haha.
It is with every up-hill that there is a down-hill. Each week of stress brings promise of a weekend. I will not say a weekend of freedom. The rate at which you accelerate down the hill towards your freedom only determines the speed at which you will hit the bottom. My advice... maintain a moderate pace. Do your work consistently and stay in on Friday nights if you can stomach it. When you reach the bottom you will be glad that you have built a cushion of protection.
I’m a loser aren’t I? It’s a Friday night and I am staying in. My friends call me the mom of the group. I stay in (too often), I worry when they get too drunk and I say words like “poofy” and “silly nana”.
But honestly, I have a good reason. This week has been a nightmare and the following is going to be even worse. Suddenly my life picks up speed. Why now?! My life reminds me of my Gran’s old Mazda. It was slow on the incline but the minute the peak (mid-year) was reached it accelerated at a rate of knots. That old ducky flew by so fast that you eye hardly registered the white streak the fleeing before you. I’ve been tied to the back of that speeding car door and it’s not stopping until next week Friday. If I’m lucky. Ha!
So here I sit, stuck in my room (am i allowed to say stuck if it’s voluntary?). Again I attempt to learn the six pages of Japanese vocab. Again I think of my sociology essay and again, oh yes, again my thoughts dodge the gaping mouth of Xhosa orals next week which promise to swallow me alive.
Meetings have abruptly become an unwelcome consumer of my time and more and more people seem to demand my attention (I’m not vain). Again, I have to start keeping a diary- an activity that I hate! I loathe being ordered. And once more I am tied to the burdens that rest on my back labelled- “Exams. Advance with caution.”
But, there does seem to be an upside to all this stress. The weekend. A chance to party (boy, I am such a hypocrite), the opportunity to relax and this weekend a special treat... our res awards evening. A night for our friends to exposes each other’s most embarrassing moments. Why do I hear whispers of dirty forty year olds and addictions? I’ll never tell. Haha.
It is with every up-hill that there is a down-hill. Each week of stress brings promise of a weekend. I will not say a weekend of freedom. The rate at which you accelerate down the hill towards your freedom only determines the speed at which you will hit the bottom. My advice... maintain a moderate pace. Do your work consistently and stay in on Friday nights if you can stomach it. When you reach the bottom you will be glad that you have built a cushion of protection.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Just beacuse im paranoid, doesn't mean im not being followed...
I'm an Oppidan and the most part of my day entails me walking to and from my digs, this could be on varying hours of the day of course. With these sometimes day but mostly night walks, I have found myself to be growing ever the more paranoid about my surroundings and whether in fact I am being followed, by humans or even something more bizarre.
As I walk down Beaufort Street, I always get the feeling that I am not alone, as though something or someone is following me. Now mind you even though the thought of this does not spark great feelings of comfort from within, it does somehow get me asking the question, what is the distinction between paranoia and actual fact. People seem to somehow dismiss other people's thoughts that they are not willing to buy into as either paranoia or just plain stupid. Wonder how you'll feel if one day I get kidnapped by that very things that's been following me, hope you are all wracked with guilt.
But on a serious note, whats real and whats not. whose real and whose not? Did i really write this article or is some spirit manifesting itself through me, trying to show you my fellow Rhodents that it exists. Why do we believe the 'things' that are presented to us as truths??? all i know is that just because I may be paranoid, doesn't mean I'm not being followed
As I walk down Beaufort Street, I always get the feeling that I am not alone, as though something or someone is following me. Now mind you even though the thought of this does not spark great feelings of comfort from within, it does somehow get me asking the question, what is the distinction between paranoia and actual fact. People seem to somehow dismiss other people's thoughts that they are not willing to buy into as either paranoia or just plain stupid. Wonder how you'll feel if one day I get kidnapped by that very things that's been following me, hope you are all wracked with guilt.
But on a serious note, whats real and whats not. whose real and whose not? Did i really write this article or is some spirit manifesting itself through me, trying to show you my fellow Rhodents that it exists. Why do we believe the 'things' that are presented to us as truths??? all i know is that just because I may be paranoid, doesn't mean I'm not being followed
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Lies, damn lies and statistics
by Lauren Roodt
Am I the only one who chose Rhodes instead of WITS because I was under the illusion that it was a quaint little place with relatively safe surroundings? Whoa, was I falsely informed! The year started off with an explosion of rapes. Now we are moving towards muggings on campus, attacks in town and even more rapes. Things are happening which should be beyond any reasonable human's capability and they are getting worse. Our Student Zone reads three stories on crime affecting our students. What type of message is this sending to future Rhodents?
I have noticed that CPU (Campus Protection Unit) have put up more SOS buttons but are these going to make any difference? Yes, it is very reassuring to know that you can hit a button to call for help when the next sub-humanoid leaps in front of you, but when push comes to shove how many of these attacks happen in the vicinity of the SOS buttons? Not many I recon. "Use in case of emergency". But when does something become an emergency? Is it only once you have been pulled to the ground and pinned down and had the blood sucked from your veins? To refer to Cannibals story "Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean I'm not being followed...": If one is feeling insecure are they entitled to push these buttons? An ejector button in a space ship is there to be pushed before the aircraft crashes... surely these buttons should work in the same way.
Am I the only one who chose Rhodes instead of WITS because I was under the illusion that it was a quaint little place with relatively safe surroundings? Whoa, was I falsely informed! The year started off with an explosion of rapes. Now we are moving towards muggings on campus, attacks in town and even more rapes. Things are happening which should be beyond any reasonable human's capability and they are getting worse. Our Student Zone reads three stories on crime affecting our students. What type of message is this sending to future Rhodents?
I have noticed that CPU (Campus Protection Unit) have put up more SOS buttons but are these going to make any difference? Yes, it is very reassuring to know that you can hit a button to call for help when the next sub-humanoid leaps in front of you, but when push comes to shove how many of these attacks happen in the vicinity of the SOS buttons? Not many I recon. "Use in case of emergency". But when does something become an emergency? Is it only once you have been pulled to the ground and pinned down and had the blood sucked from your veins? To refer to Cannibals story "Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean I'm not being followed...": If one is feeling insecure are they entitled to push these buttons? An ejector button in a space ship is there to be pushed before the aircraft crashes... surely these buttons should work in the same way.
With the rapid swell of crime in Grahamstown I believe we need act before the emergency arrives. There is no use in hitting the emergency button once you have been stripped of all your possessions. Yes, it is stupid to go walking alone at night and perhaps we do put ourselves in places where only the dead would dare walk, but even so we should not have to walk around in fear of what is going to emerge from the next crack in the sidewalk.
But, before becoming hermits who refuse to leave our room we also need to remember that small towns have big impacts. Here, everybody knows everyone- it is then that nightmares become reality because it all hits closer to home.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Dilemma of the motor heads
Recently I was given a car by my Tallests (Parents to you earth-a-noids) and I filled it with pathetic, inefficient, polluting earth fuel and made the slow and inefficient journey to Rhodes. My feeling of elation could not be matched, for I had successfully completed a 1500km journey and hit 8 pedestrians on the way, but this joy was short lived, for when I arrived at my destination I saw there was an increase in the amounts of earth grubs (some call them students) who now possessed various pathetic earth vehicles. This resulted in a parking crisis for yours truly. I attempted to purchase the services of one of the pariahs on the streets to make sure the parking I was eyeing would not fall into the hands of one of my inferiors. However the job was not completed successfully and I had to dispose of my parking slave. So on a clouded evening I disposed of the corpse in the reservoir to further contribute to the pollution levels of the water... Sorry, I seem to be straying off my topic. When you are blessed with superiority over a certain species you find more time to worry about these important issues in life such as parking. However, let me continue. Thus I have attempted many other brilliant plans to acquire parking, such as destroying some of these earth vehicles, but for each one I dispose of there are two more that try hustle my parking. Is there anyone out there with a solution to parking problems? I might just have to swallow my pride (Heaven forbid) and ask the institution to make more space for earth vehicles to park. Pft, get real, that will never happen!
Monday, October 6, 2008
Finding Light in Dark Places Whilst Admiring the Moon Light
And here I stand, wincing the night away and kissing the lipless, which is a constant beginning of everything. Knowing that caring is creepy and causes a weird divide when turning in a square. Girl sailors don’t need sea legs or sleeping lessons when a comet appears, the past the pending, your algebra. Red rabbits can’t teach the new slang, contradictory to popular belief, and as the split needles and phantom limbs turn on me black waves appear, one by one all day... and as the young pilgrims pass, Saint Simon, but mine’s not a high horse, I guess we are all just pressed in a book that winds down those chutes to narrow, oh inverted world, why does nature bear such a vacuum? Could we perhaps use pink bullets in Australia? We built a raft and we floated, can you not remember Pam Berry, and we fell into a winter slide. Alas my seventh rib is gone for good to those bold city girls. Girl inform me, is this truly the celibate life? Those to come is the girl on the wing, and there are no barking sparrows, only emptiness to dwell upon. In the end we’re just left eating sties from elephant’s eyes. So says I!
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Hyped!!
by Lauren Roodt
Tired? Tick. Bed? Yes please.Now? Hmmm maybe now-now. Wow, what do you know it's long past my bed time and yet I am still up. Why? I am procrastinating. I'm being stupid I know. I will regret this I am aware of it. I will get stressed- what's new. Haha. I am the master of procrastination. Tired? Tick. Sleepy? Jip. Bed? Totally. So why not?!? Um gotta check my Facebook.
I should be learning my Xhosa vocab. I should study for my soc test. I really should start my Ling assignment. I honestly need to start learning my Japanese. Oh so much to do so little time! LIES!
Procrastination: the act of delaying; inactivity resulting in something being put off until a later time. I am the master! I would rather sit here and type on my blog all night than write the darn essay or learn the list of vocab. Procrastination: the easiest thing you will ever learn at university. Need a crash course - ask me. I've been in the business for years.
My biggest tip. Don't do it! The truth... you will. How do you prepare yourself? You can't. So sit back, watch House, paint your nails, vacuum your room, do what ever it takes not to do your work!
Tired? Tick. Bed? Yes please.Now? Hmmm maybe now-now. Wow, what do you know it's long past my bed time and yet I am still up. Why? I am procrastinating. I'm being stupid I know. I will regret this I am aware of it. I will get stressed- what's new. Haha. I am the master of procrastination. Tired? Tick. Sleepy? Jip. Bed? Totally. So why not?!? Um gotta check my Facebook.
I should be learning my Xhosa vocab. I should study for my soc test. I really should start my Ling assignment. I honestly need to start learning my Japanese. Oh so much to do so little time! LIES!
Procrastination: the act of delaying; inactivity resulting in something being put off until a later time. I am the master! I would rather sit here and type on my blog all night than write the darn essay or learn the list of vocab. Procrastination: the easiest thing you will ever learn at university. Need a crash course - ask me. I've been in the business for years.
My biggest tip. Don't do it! The truth... you will. How do you prepare yourself? You can't. So sit back, watch House, paint your nails, vacuum your room, do what ever it takes not to do your work!
ON A DIET!
Must everything make sense alway? I say that's where the most fun lies. Finding your way back to bein sane, questioning yourself wether you'll ever be the same person.
Thats what is going on, cal this a blog where you can vomit, just pour whatever you feeling or whatever happened on the site. If you are an compulsive liar then WELCOME!
Don't fight the design, this is not suppose feel like home- drop us a line and leave don't even check whether someone has commmented on your story move on.
IT ALL DOES NOT ADD UP! SO WHAT? DO WHAT U CAME HERE FOR.
Things that scream in the night
So Grahamstown is a safe town they say. This is the town that you can walk down the strets alone in the middle of the night. Theres's something always lurking around the corner whether it jumps out at you or it keeps quiet in its corner.
Grahamstown has never been safe it was all a myth, show me a safe town and i'll show you Simba pushing a pram. But crime has been on high alert lately. Just after the mugging by the Drama department there has been a raping by the Fronteirs Arm Hotel.
The victim is a student at Rhodes and was walking back from the labs in the early hours of the day. Students should take the precautions given by the universtiy.
Students should not walk alone at night and someone should know where you are.
Grahamstown has never been safe it was all a myth, show me a safe town and i'll show you Simba pushing a pram. But crime has been on high alert lately. Just after the mugging by the Drama department there has been a raping by the Fronteirs Arm Hotel.
The victim is a student at Rhodes and was walking back from the labs in the early hours of the day. Students should take the precautions given by the universtiy.
Students should not walk alone at night and someone should know where you are.
Feeling Emo
by Lauren Roodt
One of the best things that Grahamstown offers is the movies. Now I know it's not quite right for a student to choose movies over Friars but, every once in a while when we are feeling a little lethargic, my girls and I pop down to the movies. This week we decided it was due time to pay them a little visit. After a tough week full of emotions and steep up hills it was exactly what I needed. You must have experienced a week like that - if not dear prospective first year- you will. Trust me. Hormones, work and the moon. A bad combo. (A small aside: I blame the moon for everything. If I spill my water it's the moon's fault, if I have a bad hair day- jip it's the moon.)
Anyway, lest I get more side tracked...
I stumbled blindly into this one. My friend Caroline has been waiting to see Bella for the past three months so we all happily skipped into the theatre _ BLINDLY. What I expected to be a happy chic flic turned out to be the final push on my emotions. It was the most beautiful, touching movie I have seen for a very long time but it certainly pushed me over the edge and the pressure of the last week seemed to gush out of my eyes before I could blink it back.
Girls (sorry boys but I don't think you fit in here) a good cry when under pressure is the best thing for clearing the varsity blues. It goes miles. That, coupled with a good mug of Vanilla Milk and the most expensive choc-chip biscuits I could find fixed me up for another month. So, find yourself a brilliant bunch of friends (if you can't I'll happily share mine) and make regular visits to the movies. Goes down well to the start of a good weekend.
One of the best things that Grahamstown offers is the movies. Now I know it's not quite right for a student to choose movies over Friars but, every once in a while when we are feeling a little lethargic, my girls and I pop down to the movies. This week we decided it was due time to pay them a little visit. After a tough week full of emotions and steep up hills it was exactly what I needed. You must have experienced a week like that - if not dear prospective first year- you will. Trust me. Hormones, work and the moon. A bad combo. (A small aside: I blame the moon for everything. If I spill my water it's the moon's fault, if I have a bad hair day- jip it's the moon.)
Anyway, lest I get more side tracked...
I stumbled blindly into this one. My friend Caroline has been waiting to see Bella for the past three months so we all happily skipped into the theatre _ BLINDLY. What I expected to be a happy chic flic turned out to be the final push on my emotions. It was the most beautiful, touching movie I have seen for a very long time but it certainly pushed me over the edge and the pressure of the last week seemed to gush out of my eyes before I could blink it back.
Girls (sorry boys but I don't think you fit in here) a good cry when under pressure is the best thing for clearing the varsity blues. It goes miles. That, coupled with a good mug of Vanilla Milk and the most expensive choc-chip biscuits I could find fixed me up for another month. So, find yourself a brilliant bunch of friends (if you can't I'll happily share mine) and make regular visits to the movies. Goes down well to the start of a good weekend.
Getting Down and Dirty
by Lauren Roodt
Ah, you have got to love us Ruth First girls. What a team we are! On Saturday a couple of our girls teamed up with the boys from Centenary to plant a veggie garden for Cynthia's Soup Kitchen in Joza. Cynthia feeds many children in the area by providing them with regular meals. If only we had more selfless people like her in the world.
Putting the little old bakkie in danger of defying legal carrying codes we all enthusiastically piled into the back. Benita balanced precariously on a rake while I steadied myself against the sharp edge of a spade. With our spades, rakes and watering cans my alter ego - farm girl came out to play. My body sang to have a spade in hand as I put my back into it to turn the soil. My nose flarred to take in as much of the smell of newly turned earth that it could and my fingers itched to dig deeper. Pressing the soil firmly around the baby seedlings was like sealing a promise to the children of good food and care our the next few weeks. So humbling.
Everybody was having a blast! Passers-by stopped to chat and give their advice and many asked when they could have us visit their gardens. It dawned on me how important it is to be able to speak isiXhosa and made me revisit the abandoned thought of taking it to second year. Although we could communicate roughly it would have been fascinating to speak to the vibrant young boys and to ask the old man with the crinkled yellow hat where he had been. It was beautiful to see us all getting stuck in with the common bond of producing something worthwhile.
Ruth First and Centenary are considering taking this on as a fixed project. We will help Ma-Cynthia to maintain the garden and to provide the necessary gardening tools she might need. We also hope to start up more gardens in other areas of Grahamstown. With 70% of our town unemployed we all need to pull our weight to reduce the massive amount of hungry kids.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
African Attraction
Pictures: 1) Tarrah MacDonald on Safari 2) Tarrah in Malawi. The man proudly displaying his tongue is Happy Coconut (truth- that is his real name). Happy Coconut fell in love with Tarrah and sent her a love letter once she had returned to South Africa. African Attraction
By Lauren Roodt
As the engines begin to warm up and the big body taxis down the tarmac Tarrah’s mind is more focussed on the weird sensation in her stomach than on the gum she is chewing to prevent her ears from getting blocked. She swallows hard as the lump of gum slips down her throat but continues to stare out the window. She pops back into reality as Emma pokes her and gives a little squeal of excitement. The assortment of feelings that Tarrah is experiencing is a delicious blend of excitement, anxiety and courage. “The media fills our heads with so much crap that I didn’t really know what to expect,” says Tarrah about South Africa. “My mom told me to eat as much as possible while in Canada because South African’s can only afford rice and pap,” says Tarrah, “That’s the type of stuff they tell us.”
Tarrah chose South Africa because it was the furthest place from home. Her first sight of Africa was while running through Johannesburg airport rushing to catch her next flight. “I didn’t even have time to think about all the advice people had given us like not to talk to strangers and not to put our bags down for a second” says Tarrah with a quizzical look on her face as if to say “stupid foreigners”. After a year in South Africa this leggy blonde is one of us. While driving along Port Elizabeth’s coast all that Tarrah could verbalise was “Whoa! This is Africa!” The only knowledge of Rhodes University that Tarrah had was of the community service programs which she wanted to get involved in. Everything else was a surprise.
Tarrah has involved herself in the Amasango Career Centre for street children where she spends two to three hours per week teaching the children basic skills. She find it difficult to pass one of her students on the street while she is out at night and not give him money, but she knows that it is better for them to go to the shelter where they are looked after. Tarrah has gained skills which will be invaluable to her education degree. “Teaching is just something I have always wanted to do, ey,” she says. She wishes people would embrace teaching because she has realised how diverse it is. “Teaching gives you the chance to work with children from all age groups and subjects and provides endless travel opportunities,” she boasts.
Tarrah has a hard time staying in one place and has travelled all of Southern Africa over the past year. She has not had time to be home sick for long. “I imagine it is the same for all first years. In those beginning weeks while you are still making friends it is very hard,” she says. Tarrah copes with her home sickness by having a night to her-self and getting a good night’s sleep but her true secret is to spend as much time at the bar as possible. “The more you drink, the more you socialise, the more friends you make, the better your experience of varsity will be. It all flows,” she says, adding the infamous ‘ey’ which infiltrates all of her sentences. This seems to be the way to go because Tarrah is a carefree social butterfly who can always be tempted by a draught of Black Label to leave her school work and go to the bar. Despite this she still achieves firsts in most of her subjects, including isiXhosa.
“One way or another there is a whole spectrum of opportunities in South Africa,” she says. She believes that Africa is full of exciting resources which most citizens take for granted. “The dynamic society is struck with an incredible passion,” she says, “people are willing to come out and say things, argue and oppose ideas without being afraid.” This was a welcome refresher from her life at home where people are over cautious about what they say. Tarrah’s biggest challenge in South Africa was how to cope with issues in a sensitive manner. It is something she has not experienced and she does not want to say too much because she feels as though she has not lived here long enough to fully understand our mind set.
“If there is one thing that I have learned about Africa it is that you cannot sum it up in one word,” Tarrah says. Her adventures through Malawi, Botswana, Namibia and Zambia have not only given her a golden tan but have made it impossible to pinpoint one moment as the best out of ten months. Tarrah is taking everything home with her. “I will somehow fit my hundreds of wooden giraffe, my Malawi board game and the grass broom that a small boy made for me in Lesotho into my bags,” she says unconsciously swirling the plaited bracket from Botswana around her wrist.
Goodguy
Khayisa Matika
Trevor Kana grew up in Limpopo. Where he lives with both parents, he only has only one sister. Trevor loves eating, so it is no surprise that he wants to go grab a bite before we begin. He is pretty convinced that he’s ordinary, which is true but that’s what make’s him even more interesting.
He had to endure going to an Afrikaans school which he claims was hell but made up for it in the last three years. He is open about the fact that he really does not know where he is going in life but you can from the look in his eyes that this excites him. This boy does not fit in any where and he is cool with.
He has not done anything great because it is about the little things for me. That’s why he does volunteering work. Every Monday he goes to a centre where he plays with kids. His thinking process is what motivated the article. He has no hope for world peace because he believes that humans neglect the small things, such as simply greeting the person you passing by or even respecting your own parents. Perhaps hypocritically he still wants to save it. Before he dies he wants to do something big, something that will benefit many people and not just him.
Call it an auction but here is a guy who is a gentleman but is being overlooked. His wealth is not measured by material things, he took a semester on biology and whenever he refers to humans you can see it com through, as he went on to explain how miniature we are as humans in relations to life systems.
He had to overcome some difficulties such as starting to believe in himself which he only began doing recently. He really is just a drop in the ocean, but the sea does not seem as huge anymore. He had a rough first year, hung around the wrong crowd. He had to cut out a few people in his life but he still here.
“Walking around campus I only see a bunch of rich arrogant kids who know nothing about life” , from a boy who loves living the simple life and too conscious about the people around starving It’s a fair comment. Perhaps we all are sinking just no one is calling for help.
Khayisa Matika
Trevor Kana grew up in Limpopo. Where he lives with both parents, he only has only one sister. Trevor loves eating, so it is no surprise that he wants to go grab a bite before we begin. He is pretty convinced that he’s ordinary, which is true but that’s what make’s him even more interesting.
He had to endure going to an Afrikaans school which he claims was hell but made up for it in the last three years. He is open about the fact that he really does not know where he is going in life but you can from the look in his eyes that this excites him. This boy does not fit in any where and he is cool with.
He has not done anything great because it is about the little things for me. That’s why he does volunteering work. Every Monday he goes to a centre where he plays with kids. His thinking process is what motivated the article. He has no hope for world peace because he believes that humans neglect the small things, such as simply greeting the person you passing by or even respecting your own parents. Perhaps hypocritically he still wants to save it. Before he dies he wants to do something big, something that will benefit many people and not just him.
Call it an auction but here is a guy who is a gentleman but is being overlooked. His wealth is not measured by material things, he took a semester on biology and whenever he refers to humans you can see it com through, as he went on to explain how miniature we are as humans in relations to life systems.
He had to overcome some difficulties such as starting to believe in himself which he only began doing recently. He really is just a drop in the ocean, but the sea does not seem as huge anymore. He had a rough first year, hung around the wrong crowd. He had to cut out a few people in his life but he still here.
“Walking around campus I only see a bunch of rich arrogant kids who know nothing about life” , from a boy who loves living the simple life and too conscious about the people around starving It’s a fair comment. Perhaps we all are sinking just no one is calling for help.
My sincerest apologies to my regular readers,
I know that "profile" that I wrote was me acting normal. Yes, I know that the insane should wear it proudly on their sleeve, but once in a while I like to revert back to normal.
Yours Truly,
Wraith
P.S. It probably won't happen again, but who know what I might do in the future! I'm insane remember!
Memoir of a new fellow Psychopathic Rhodent Jordan Deall
It was an arduous task, trying to find a suitable hero or survivor of first year. There were many possible candidates to choose from, all with their own unique and soppy tail, but they were not the suitable material for finding the truth, and the ultimate way of surviving first year. Little did I know that the perfect interviewee was closer than I thought, he is my old friend from home, Jordan Deall.
I invited Jordan to my room on a warm, brightly lit Wednesday afternoon. I sat at my computer and he fell into his usual slouch on the bed. The interview started with Jordan lighting up a cigarette and taking a sip of coffee out of a polystyrene cup. As he spoke, the smoke would slowly raise up past through his messy hair that was glimmering in the afternoon sun that was filtering through the window behind him. His face had the usual look of being completely care-free and relaxed, his large expressive eyebrows casting a dark shadow over his eyes. Jordan was dressed in the same style-type clothes that he has been wearing since high school, a green-brown t-shirt, plain brown cargo shorts, and scruffy checked shoes with no socks.
After the first question, which was “How have you survived first year thus far” his immediate reaction was “Um?”, his eyebrows rise up, and he lets go a laugh and says: “Well I haven't really overcome it exactly, I mean I have failed, but they can’t really kick me out now, JA. I've just tried my best to stay out of trouble this term that might lead to my exclusion”. After the two of us had a chuckle at this statement I asked him if first year had been easy, because he seems to be really relaxed about what he said earlier, and he just replied indignantly: “No! I have been working my arse [sic] off this semester, only the beginning was chilled!” He explained that coming to Rhodes was actually a last minute choice for 2008, he said that the only reason he came here was: “because of you, you bastard [referring to me], brainwashing me into wanting to study. I started under false pretences, and then I failed; now I have to work twice as hard to get somewhere”. He continued to hurl abuse at me for the next ten minutes, which resulted in laughter and Jordan lighting up another cigarette. He finished the interview with a glimmer of hope, by saying that he is pulling out all the stops and is trying his best to stay in Rhodes, not by the university not having a good enough excuse to exclude him, but rather by passing.
Jordan is a realistic example of a first year survivor, he is not one of these almost unbelievable characters who manages to receive firsts for every subject and still have time to party every night of the week, instead he is the same as the rest of us, a normal first year who is striving to try get through this utterly new student lifestyle as well as trying to enjoy life to the fullest.
Conducted on the 1st October 2008 (Human Time)
Conducted on the 5th Slar phase, year of the Vortengaunt (Standard Universal Time)
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