Thursday, February 3, 2011
Study-less
Having no University is brilliant. Holidays rule. I can go into libraries and spend hours there. Looking at books till my hearts content. Rading the blurbs like its nobody's business. Judging every single book by its cover. Taking the four storeyed building section by section. Filling my arms till I can't carry more. Leaving with a small shop of bound goodness, ready and waiting for the words to be read.
Escape.
Casually jetting off to a wee place called W. anaka.
High hopes for long walks, long reads, lying in the sun and endless swimming sessions (not in the Lake, you understand).
Goal: preparation for flatting and a rowdy O-week. May my body forgive me for the torment I'm about to put it through.
Goal #2: Marathon training. Ditto above. Kill me now.
Nice, holed away getaway, picturesque landscape, no internet or electronic interruptions. Reading, writing, watching, eating.
Much needed escape thanks to a timely five days off work.
Bring. It. On.
High hopes for long walks, long reads, lying in the sun and endless swimming sessions (not in the Lake, you understand).
Goal: preparation for flatting and a rowdy O-week. May my body forgive me for the torment I'm about to put it through.
Goal #2: Marathon training. Ditto above. Kill me now.
Nice, holed away getaway, picturesque landscape, no internet or electronic interruptions. Reading, writing, watching, eating.
Much needed escape thanks to a timely five days off work.
Bring. It. On.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
S.Y.D.
Back from the land of the sunshine, and happiness, and flowers and all other joyful iconography. Home to the Land of the Long White Cloud. Literally. I can't see the sky, just eternal cloud.
Sydney was crazy, the best adventure. Just four friends and a city of possibilities. It was as cheesy fun as it sounds. Although our mischief was limited, we shopped, swam, wandered, it was tough. But we managed.
I want to go back. It was one of those times that you forever look back upon, the height of our freedom, a time treasured for our ability to go with the wind. All care, no responsiblity. A memory lashed with smiles and laughs and very little of anything else. I even constrained myself to write in my diary everyday so serious reminscing will take place. Parents and adults are forever hindering the younger generations with questions, plans, proposals, but the six days of Sydney possessed zero. Zilch. We came back with all the memories, feelings and sunburn that we planned for and so much more (thankfully, not so much on the sunburn front.) There was not a moment that I thought, why did I come, or when are we going home, only jeez this is fun, or could we miss our flight and stay another week.
Home was always too close. Although six days seemed not enough, I prefer to see it as perfect, it left me wanting more. I want to go back. I want another holiday.
It was also a great test of my responsibility, maturity, independence and ability to cope. I saw it as preparation for France. I confronted every obstacle with vision to french challenges. How I would deal with it in another language, in a far far away land, not just across a ditch, but across hundreds.
And, thankfully, I came away with excitement, hope and a belief in myself that only true personal challenge can create. I don't admit I'll have the Metro mastered, or understand why the french insist on making rooms without wardrobe's. But I do plan to accept these things and deal with them as Sydney showed me I could.
Sydney was amazing and I will forever see it as a trip I was destined to go on for many reasons, a trip where I learnt more about myself and a trip where I had a downright, flippin' good time.
Love forever, Sydney.
Sydney was crazy, the best adventure. Just four friends and a city of possibilities. It was as cheesy fun as it sounds. Although our mischief was limited, we shopped, swam, wandered, it was tough. But we managed.
I want to go back. It was one of those times that you forever look back upon, the height of our freedom, a time treasured for our ability to go with the wind. All care, no responsiblity. A memory lashed with smiles and laughs and very little of anything else. I even constrained myself to write in my diary everyday so serious reminscing will take place. Parents and adults are forever hindering the younger generations with questions, plans, proposals, but the six days of Sydney possessed zero. Zilch. We came back with all the memories, feelings and sunburn that we planned for and so much more (thankfully, not so much on the sunburn front.) There was not a moment that I thought, why did I come, or when are we going home, only jeez this is fun, or could we miss our flight and stay another week.
Home was always too close. Although six days seemed not enough, I prefer to see it as perfect, it left me wanting more. I want to go back. I want another holiday.
It was also a great test of my responsibility, maturity, independence and ability to cope. I saw it as preparation for France. I confronted every obstacle with vision to french challenges. How I would deal with it in another language, in a far far away land, not just across a ditch, but across hundreds.
And, thankfully, I came away with excitement, hope and a belief in myself that only true personal challenge can create. I don't admit I'll have the Metro mastered, or understand why the french insist on making rooms without wardrobe's. But I do plan to accept these things and deal with them as Sydney showed me I could.
Sydney was amazing and I will forever see it as a trip I was destined to go on for many reasons, a trip where I learnt more about myself and a trip where I had a downright, flippin' good time.
Love forever, Sydney.
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