Walking Fossil

It doesn’t feel like that long ago when I started teaching, yet without any warning, three years have passed by. I remember walking into my very first tutorial, I had to put on a shirt, proper cotton pants and leather shoes to give the impression that I was older and wiser. The age difference between the students and myself wasn’t that far apart and it didn’t take long before we communicated at a level you would on a Friday evening at the pub.

Time flies as swiftly as my monthly cash injection mysteriously disappears (yes I bought that damn ski goggles). It was an entirely different feeling when I met my students this semester. I introduced myself and so did they, “hi my name is girlie and I’m 19 years old.” There was a sudden twitch on my brow, possibly the instantaneous formation of wrinkles, and I felt like a walking fossil. The age gap is moving towards a decade and no longer could I pretend that I had youthful exuberance to spare. I was having a conversation with my colleague and I realised that I no longer use the word ‘my students’, instead I call them ‘the kids.’ Where did all that time go? That, I suppose is the problem with studying at the same University for 8 years. You stroll along the same corridor on a daily basis and you feel like everyone around you are getting younger and it really isn’t your fault. The last thing I need is to be stuck in a time capsule, which is why I’m pretty sure I’m not going to pursue academia for my career.

My Top Ten
You know that a generation gap exists when :

• you play Eric Moo in your car and your passengers say, “is he still alive?”
• you invite someone over for dinner and she talks about how she was in junior high when the spice girls appeared, and you realise you were already in Uni then
• you wonder why the kids support Taiwanese bands that name themselves with three-letter-acronyms
• you get frustrated because you can’t hear what in the bloody world Jay Chou is singing about
• you bought tickets to watch a tribute to Louis Armstrong
• you feel that the spoken language is better served with adjectives (as opposed to “I’m like….. it is like…..and then it’s like…..”)
• you think that World of War Craft is evil
• you stick to the speed limit when you drive
• you enjoy a 21 year Scotch on a week night (and not down it like the crazy Vietnamese)
• you know that Laurel and Hardy is not a designer label

my new toy 

Beyond the White Yonder

I feel battered. Perhaps carrying a washing machine, fridge and bed-frame up and down two flights of stairs has something to do with it. Otherwise it will be old bones complaining about staying up too late while being intoxicated at the same time. Instead of driving home to call it a night, I find myself in the office typing a blog entry. I really wanted to write for the last couple of weeks, but I found it just too hard to take time off from my work. I have to write tonight, even though there appears to a backlog of sentiments organised in a manner that humbles my office of utter chaos, I feel the need to pen (keyboard) something down tonight.

It is going to be a very long and hard semester and I’m not a hundred percent certain that I’m up for the challenge. For one thing, I want to complete writing my thesis by October so that I can enjoy my trip to Tennessee in November. Given my rate of writing a quarter page a day, I seriously doubt that a thesis can be fabricated….. I mean constructed …. within that time period. I’m uncertain where I can draw that kind of strength from, but I’m sure more focus and less mental wandering beyond the shores of ‘wouldn’t it be nice if…..’ might help.

My lady boss just announced that I will have four tutorials to teach this sem, that is four classes in a row!! Six hours straight, and I feel sorry for my last class already. I will be as drained as a deflated whoopee cushion that wheezes a puny sniffer by the time I’m done with the first three tutorials. Henceforth, Thursdays shall be known as grouchy-Thursday, or leave-me-alone-Thursday, or if-you-think-my-bad-hairday-was-bad-try-asking-about-my-wellbeing-on-Thursdays-Thursday.

The winter break has been great though. I do wish that I got more accomplished with my research but the distraction from exam marking, exam admin and mating-dance sort of sidetracked me more often than I liked. The ski trip was brilliant though and I can’t wait to hit the slopes again. I can just close my eyes and see the lavish blanket of snow and feel the winter air battering my ski mask as the slopes reveal a pathway beyond the white yonder.

Speaking of which, I’m struggling. Really struggling to keep my wallet in my pocket because I have set my eyes on this pair of Oakley ski goggles that I’m convinced will make my life complete. Never mind that I’ll probably only ski once more this season and it won’t be two more years before I’ll see snow again, but it will make my life complete. Never mind that I already have a fully functional, double-lens Scott ski goggles that more than serves my functional needs, the Oakley ski goggles will make my life complete. Never mind that the opportunity cost of a new ski goggles will buy me four full tanks of petrol, or 28 plates of roast duck rice, the Oakley ski goggles will make my life complete. Life can sometimes be a struggle when you have so many hours to procrastinate from doing your work, and the ageless notion rings in your mind as you scroll through ebay pages…. ….. to click or not to click…….