Tamarama Beach, Sydney, Australia
I think much more reflectively than I used to, sitting here in an empty flat above a spotless beach at night. I am house sitting for people I barely know, living in an empty apartment away from the hostel for a week. In this quiet place there are hardly any distractions and because of this I am working harder and improving my life. I am thinking a lot of how I want my life to go now things are so much easier and how I want people to see me always.
I want people to say that they can see I have changed. I want them to say I treat people a lot better, that I don’t make people do things for me, that I help everyone any way I can, offering my assistance regularly.
I want people to say I look after my friends and that I respect and am respected by everyone. I want people to say I do my work on time, I exceed expectations at all times, I help others when I am finished.
I want people to say I am on time, I am never late, I am organized, I get round to doing what I have to even when I really don’t want to.
I want people to say I don’t cheat or lie, I don’t give up, I don’t get angry, I don’t argue with anyone.
These things may not get me back into school but I truly believe I will be a better person if I live what I have written.
Friday, March 12, 2004
Sydney, Australia
So, there’s this roller disco in the heart of the city. Disco balls and snazzy lighting, cool cats on skates, this place rocks. Then this guy comes onto the rink, grooving with the chicks and he’s wearing this white felt hat with aviators and a boa with these snazzy white flairs over his skates. He’s swinging round the rink following the spotlights and just being cool.
That look is going to come back and haunt me one day if I try to run for president, but at least I had fun. Simon had managed to get me involved in a rock video for a band he knows but I was not expecting that I would be grooving on roller skates. We arrived at the dilapidated skate rink and I suddenly felt like I had walked through time. Dust swamped the floor, mold was in the process of climbing the walls and there were piles of forgotten roller skates looking like something out of Mad Max. In amongst it all stood small knots of people trying to tame this harsh environment and set up equipment. Cables, leads, adapters, lights and miscellaneous boxes cluttered the floor and I was instantly put to work shifting boxes and gargantuan lights up flights of endless stairs. That morning was chaos. I have found that no one really knows the full extent of what’s going on in a film set. I was asked to do ten things at once and sometimes had conflicting orders. It was a pleasure however, to see the lights get turned on and illuminate the disco balls I had cleaned so carefully, scrubbing them tile by tile. I find it funny that just two months ago I would not have been able to help as well as I did, carrying lifting and plugging in.
The second half of the day was surreal. I was shown into a big space filled with extras and costumes, dancers, drag queens, flares and hot pants. I was given a lot of clothes and kept being told to change. The blue flares with white fur were my favorite, closely followed my boa. After that I had just one little skill to master in an hour: Roller-skating. To my credit I didn’t fall and I looked quite funky as I windmilled my arms and shot along the floor. I had a great day as an extra but I did feel sorry for those I left managing the lights. I didn’t realize this when I acted in the TV ad but there is a great difference in the amount of work done between cast and crew. The crew slave away carrying things and always working while the cast spend most of the time sitting around waiting for their call, looking bored. The extras are not allowed anywhere near the tech equipment but I still felt they should lend a hand. In reality the extras were doing as much as they could but when I was with them I felt guilty for not doing as much as the crew. I do not think the thought would have crossed my mind if I had been just been an actor.
The band ROCKED! Three vocalists, a guitar and bass, three drum kits, and two trumpets and a collection of classic keyboards jammed it out on the floor of the rink as we circled on our skates. The tune was funky, the atmosphere was lively and the clothes were pure cheesy - or was it retro, I can never tell.
New South Wales, Australia
As the train prepares to leave the city behind I look out at the platform and smile. I think of those days that seem so long ago now, all of us smiling and laughing as the last packs were tied down, the final stoves prepped and long and quick hugs exchanged. I remember the pine needles on the ground and the crowds waving as I swung myself onto that bus the first time.
The train growling beneath me is like that bus as it ground its way down Spring Hill and away, all of us expectant and eager. Now I have no crew, no class, no year. I am alone in this empty carriage, looking at a strange city, a strange country, a strange continent on the other side of the world.
I am on my way to the Blue Mountains without the usually constant presence of Simon, traveling on dilapidated public transport as I leave on a self-planned expedition. The objective is for me to develop organizational skills and learn to be independent. Unfortunately I am still not as organized as I would like and sense I may have forgotten some items that I will probably regret later.
I used to have a grudge against Shackleton after I was forced to leave but now things are different. I have realized that most of my problems at school stemmed from how I treated my friends and teachers alike. I thought nothing of making others do things for me and never really valued anything or anyone as much as I should have. I am now living my mistakes but I do not find that a bad thing. Sitting here on a train bound for the mountains I am now filled with resolve to fix my problems and return to Shackleton. Of course I have worries: I worry I may have out grown the school, or that things will be different, or that I will not be accepted, but I have decided on a course and am following it. What would have happened if Shackleton himself had decided to change course in the James Caird and missed South Georgia. He would have perished and the school I am trying so hard to get back into would have had to been called something else.
As the train leaves Sydney far behind, all memories of school flutter in its wake and are gone as they have to, leaving me to continue my journey in the present.
As the train prepares to leave the city behind I look out at the platform and smile. I think of those days that seem so long ago now, all of us smiling and laughing as the last packs were tied down, the final stoves prepped and long and quick hugs exchanged. I remember the pine needles on the ground and the crowds waving as I swung myself onto that bus the first time.
The train growling beneath me is like that bus as it ground its way down Spring Hill and away, all of us expectant and eager. Now I have no crew, no class, no year. I am alone in this empty carriage, looking at a strange city, a strange country, a strange continent on the other side of the world.
I am on my way to the Blue Mountains without the usually constant presence of Simon, traveling on dilapidated public transport as I leave on a self-planned expedition. The objective is for me to develop organizational skills and learn to be independent. Unfortunately I am still not as organized as I would like and sense I may have forgotten some items that I will probably regret later.
I used to have a grudge against Shackleton after I was forced to leave but now things are different. I have realized that most of my problems at school stemmed from how I treated my friends and teachers alike. I thought nothing of making others do things for me and never really valued anything or anyone as much as I should have. I am now living my mistakes but I do not find that a bad thing. Sitting here on a train bound for the mountains I am now filled with resolve to fix my problems and return to Shackleton. Of course I have worries: I worry I may have out grown the school, or that things will be different, or that I will not be accepted, but I have decided on a course and am following it. What would have happened if Shackleton himself had decided to change course in the James Caird and missed South Georgia. He would have perished and the school I am trying so hard to get back into would have had to been called something else.
As the train leaves Sydney far behind, all memories of school flutter in its wake and are gone as they have to, leaving me to continue my journey in the present.
Tuesday, March 02, 2004
Bondi Beach, Australia
We all gather on the beach and play football together, laughing and sliding in the sand. I mess up a tackle and fall, but instead of mocking, everyone comes over to check on me. They cheer when I get the ball away, and I the same. Cricket is another game where I fall and am tackled, but this time we all lie sprawled out in a heap and laugh together as one.
Only two months ago I would not have said that I have a lot of friends. For the first time in my life I feel like I am luckier than most people. I always wanted to be “normal” and tried to behave like everyone else for a large part of the time. The friends I have made here are not like me, we are all different and all have something to add to our time together. I can truly relax with these people and I do not have to be someone I am not. This is true friendship. I have never before had a large group of friends who call me up and invite me to anything just because they like me. In the past I was a jester for people I liked but felt inferior to. Seeing myself as accepted takes some getting used to and sometimes I still feel lower than others, but my friends are always there letting me recognize that we are equal.
Without this realization I might still be alone and depressed, looking for the next crazy stunt to amuse others. People here congratulate, advise, encourage and befriend me. Maybe it was me who stopped people getting close and I always could have had friends like these. What I know is that I am happier than I have ever been.
We all gather on the beach and play football together, laughing and sliding in the sand. I mess up a tackle and fall, but instead of mocking, everyone comes over to check on me. They cheer when I get the ball away, and I the same. Cricket is another game where I fall and am tackled, but this time we all lie sprawled out in a heap and laugh together as one.
Only two months ago I would not have said that I have a lot of friends. For the first time in my life I feel like I am luckier than most people. I always wanted to be “normal” and tried to behave like everyone else for a large part of the time. The friends I have made here are not like me, we are all different and all have something to add to our time together. I can truly relax with these people and I do not have to be someone I am not. This is true friendship. I have never before had a large group of friends who call me up and invite me to anything just because they like me. In the past I was a jester for people I liked but felt inferior to. Seeing myself as accepted takes some getting used to and sometimes I still feel lower than others, but my friends are always there letting me recognize that we are equal.
Without this realization I might still be alone and depressed, looking for the next crazy stunt to amuse others. People here congratulate, advise, encourage and befriend me. Maybe it was me who stopped people getting close and I always could have had friends like these. What I know is that I am happier than I have ever been.
