Because I love books so much I am very excited by the idea of exploring 5 books that changed my life. Feel a bit like a copy cat but it is wonderful question.  I can’t do the fancy thing of putting up the pictures.

1) “The Road Less Traveled” -It is a fairly obvious concept for some but the rewards of delaying gratification took me a bit longer to get. This book clearly highlights the whole concept. I still have moments when I am like “gratification now” but by delaying gratification I have achieved a few things.

2) “Les Miserbles” – That moment the bishop hands over the candlesticks is priceless and Hugo writes it in such a way that it is not preachy. Just grace.

3) “People of the Book” – This is one of those amazing novels that makes one celebrate all that language is and all that it helps us express. Brooks can write like I could only ever dream of writing, but in that encourages me to try a bit harder. She says writing is not about being popular but about making another person’s heart dance. This novel highlights the sheer awfulness of human beings but also how beautiful and deep they can be. Not only that but the protagonist is in love with ancient manuscripts and I share that love with her.

4) “The Screwtape Letters” – It is not that I am fully convinced there is a devil but in this book CS Lewis very cleverly out lines some of the very real dangers that will lead us far from God. For example – being too distracted by the tangible things of the world we forget to consider what may lie beyond it. The enticement of living a double life – one where we are interested in things of God, the other we don’t really care. Letting friends influence us in superficial ways. Lastly becoming so judgmental of others that their perculiar/endearing habits come to annoy and irritate us. And if I am really honest CS Lewis makes me feel not so irrational to think there may be forces of darkness I need to by no means obsess over but atleast be wary of.

5) “Waiting to Exhale” – The book is much less hollywood than the movie. There are not many books I have read more than once but I did read this one for the second time after a pretty painful breakup (not my most recent one).  There are a 4 strong women in that book, each exploring the questions of romantic love, and for 3 out of the 4 of them, leaving was a much better decision than staying. And they are beautiful, amazing women, even without a man.

 

 

 

 

 

Yesterday I had to tell my boss at the Big Issue I am leaving Melbourne, so won’t be able to work with there anymore. It was really sad, I love that job. My last shift is on Saturday. Again to clarify I do vendor support - I am not a vendor. I was hanging out with a friend of mine from uni on Saturday night and we only just cleared that one up. I have been friends with him for over a year. Anyway Gemma (my boss) was lovely. She is writing me a reference and I asked her to contact the manager of Big Issue in Sydney and put in a good word for me. She said she would send him an email. My first task when I back to Sydney is to try and get some work with them. Gemma also invited me to be in the work Christmas photo for the magazine, so I did that today. If one of my old school friends buys the mag and sees me in the photo they might think I am a vendor. I nearly didn’t go in the photo for that reason but then I thought that’s kind of funny and maybe people will realise the magazine has other kinds of staff.  The editors/writers/vendor support/vendors where all mixed in the photo.

Spent the rest of the day doing research in the library for the book I am writing.  So I can accurately set my historical scenes. My head is so full of ideas and information but I am now struggling to motivate myself to put pen to paper.  Waves of motivation are hard to come by. I am most motivated to write when I am depressed.  Maybe the good news is I am not as depressed as I was. I still want to write my book but. When I come back to Sydney you all have to be horrible to me so one day I will become a famous author.

So today I found out I have been accepted into the Masters of Education at U.T.S. This should be exciting and it is but now I am confused. Today I also posted my application for the Masters of Letters in Hebrew and Biblical studies. I know in my heart that I would rather do a Masters of Letters but I was on the phone to Matt and he was like it would be wiser to pick something you can easily get a job with. My father says the same thing.  Are they right? Am I stupid for wanting to explore a passion that doesn’t guarantee work? I feel like I should have faith but faith doesn’t make things less scary. I don’t even know if I will get into the Masters of Letters and I have to accept the offer for the Masters of Education. I need to find out what the cutoff date is for accepting the offer. I haven’t heard from the Melbourne Universities yet either. If they accept me, my decision will be even more layered. Anyway as an encouraging thing towards the Masters of Letters this is what a teacher/associate professor wrote in a reference I asked him for.

“I understand that Ms G Hayes is applying to undertake a Masters of Letters in Hebrew, Biblical and Jewish Studies at the University of Sydney. It is my pleasure to recommend that Gemma be accepted into the course. I taught Gemma in the unit Jewish Society 200Bce – 200Ce during her undergraduate course at ACU. She is very enthusiastic about the subject area. Gemma actively participated in class, successfully undertook the option of pursuing a research essay on Hebrew language and the Dead Sea Scrolls and displayed a level of skill that certainly warrants undertaking further studies in the subject area.

I strongly endorse Gemma’s decision to go on to further study and have no hesitation in recommending that she be accepted into the Masters of Letters.”

 

I went to a reggae concert today with my friend Karen. We sat in the sun and ate homous and carrot and cheese and drunk chai and red wine. It was real nice. Except for the niggling sense of regret that seems to follow me like a shadow these days, it was good. I love reggae. Most of it was Australian aboriginal people doing their takes on the reggae sound. They have done well. I danced for a couple of hours too. At first I worried I wouldn’t be able to dance because I don’t feel particularly happy but as it seems I was able to let go, let myself move again to rhythm and beat. I lost myself for a bit and it was wonderful. “Even the sad ones they deserve music.” Now I may have a problem with dating if I do a Masters of Letters but I don’t think I would have a problem dating if I hung out in reggae circles. Dreads are everywhere. It is a shame I am a better scholar than I am a musician.

A bit of Bob Marley was played of course today. I have always loved that line from Redemption Songs – “emancipate yourself from mental slavery.” I have always had this sense of what a clever an inspired thing that is to sing. Today I wondered “what exactly does it mean?” It is such an easy thing for the educated and confident to say because they can be free of worry and self loathing, but for the rest of us – does it ring true? I have decided I still love the line and I will, despite this difficult space I am in, try to avoid too many unhelpful thought patterns, but I am a little more cautious now. Mental slavery would be a really tough place to be and it takes more than an extremely talented guy singing at you to emancipate yourself from it.

I just finished reading Tom’s post on rat mullets. He asked the question “ladies would you date someone with a rat mullet?”

Now my first thought was “no I wouldn’t date someone with a rat mullet but I would be open to being friends, if we had common interests. I don’t think rat mullet says I’m an evil person and don’t trust me with your wallet or children.”

Then my second thought was “oh my God i have different hair, would someone not date me because of that?”  It is already going to be hard enough to meet a nice man. Hypothetically just say I meet this great Jewish or Christian boy when I am doing my Masters of Letters in Hebrew studies and we get on really well but he just wants to be friends because he could never date someone with dreads.  Like me with the guy who has a rat mullet.

Be honest people “would you not date someone if they have dreads that you know only get washed once a month?”

I was having a beer with Ryan yesterday at the Hornsby Inn, (the RSL wouldn’t let me in because my licence still says Forbes Street). We were going to play snooker but ended up sitting outside at the Inn talking and drinking beer. Anyway droplets of rain started and we were like that’s alright, maybe a bit cold, but then all of a sudden we had to run inside because massive amounts of hail started falling out of the sky. We stood at the doorway and watched and it was very impressive. I love storms and hail ones are very cool. But what was kind of sad was the room we were standing in was a pokie room and there were three people sitting next to us who didn’t even turn around to look at this amazing hail storm. They just sat there playing their machine. I wanted to judge them and I confess I did a little. Until I started thinking – I wonder how many times in my life there has been a wonderful event happening, and all I have to do to see it is turn around  but instead I continue on with whatever game I happen to be playing at the time. My prayer then is God helps me to be attentive to the beauty of all the hail storms going on around me even if my attention is on something else as silly and as dangerous as a poker machine.

In an effort to survive my depression I started writing a book. It is therapeutic and the dream of one day getting published is always exciting, even if not particularly realistic. I have a plot, some characters I rather like (Drusilla is a homeless woman and Isaac is a shamen) and some of it is not too badly written. Some of it is crap and will have to be changed. I am trying to make sure Drusilla is her own person, as in not just a clone of me, but that is rather hard. Here is a very me thing she is thinking while walking down the street.

Layer upon layer we build our lives. Piling stone upon stone and holding them together with mortar. The structure takes shape beneath our hands, sometimes stroked gently, sometimes slapped about. The problem I have is I am not a very careful builder. Erratically I put stones down, one on top of the other. When I stand back I can see there out of place but it is too late. Once we have laid a stone there is no going back.

Here is another very me thing that Drusilla does. It is very lots of people I know.

5 minutes later I find my bag, under a blanket wedged in between two couches. I never know how my things find the hiding places they do. The constant search for what I just put down never ceases to exasperate me.

So I decided today it would be a good idea if I started looking into applications for university next year. Well luucckkyy. Because applications closed today. I got mine in at 11:15 tonight. Seems that god hasn’t totally forgot about me because that was a pretty close call. I have applied for some 1 year teaching degrees in both Sydney and Melbourne. In my search I came across this degree called Master of Letters. This would allow me to explore Hebrew lettering stuff (some fancy explanation there). Unfortunately I couldn’t find the course codes in U.A.C but I do have an email address and once you have enrolled, UAC lets you change your preferences. I would probably be a better teacher than palaeographer so teaching is probably where I will end up but I am a bit excited about the prospect of just exploring a masters in lettering. Even if it comes to nothing.

Life at the Frenchies is nice. I spoke to Jo and Victor briefly on skype this morning, then had milkshakes and coffee with Jem, Jane and Bruce, then a bushwalk with Jane and then clothes shopping with Hannah. We got some cool stuff. Although it is difficult to find stuff which has the potential to last a growing girl. She fell in love with a dress, she told me it was “pretty.” So I had to buy it. Not sure if it is totally her style but it is pretty. We also got 3/4 jeans, leggings and a top that is very her colour.

Have been doing some work at the pizza shop. I really enjoy it. So little stress and I feel comfortable there. I need the pupose of doing some work and I need money, but given the place I am in it, would be hard to enter the  workforce. I am really grateful for bambino’s and Dave for giving me some work. 

Jane, John and I are having dinner with Jase (aka Gary) tomorrow night. She rung and asked if I could come and he sounded really pleased about that. It will be lovely to see him and meet his new partner. I think we are meeting in Newtown. I like Newtown. Will bring back some happy memories. I need some happy memories.

I was reading Tom’s blog. Quote - ”breaking up is hard to do.” I can’t help but respond with, yes it is. It is something I have done lots. Everytime it wrenches at my heart. But here I am again. This one really hurts because this time I am giving up a deeply good man who would have made a wonderful husband. The problem is I wouldn’t make a wonderful wife. Dave moved out of Central House. I couldn’t keep going beyond our work. Anyway I feel a bit funny putting this on the blog. I have held off mentioning it for quite awhile but I guess if I am going to write what is going on for me, well this is it.

I went to a party last weekend. I was chatting to a guy there and he asked me the usual question – “how do you know Nigel” (nigel was the host).

I said – “through the church.”

He said – “ooohhhh, well, do you know what my religion is?”

I said – “what?”         He said -  “shoes.”

I said “ooohhh”

He said – “how many pairs of shoes do you have?”

I said – “I don’t know, about 15.”

He said – “I have SEVENTY PAIRS OF SHOES. My dad just told me that if I bring one more pair into the house, he is going to kick me out.”

At this point I cracked up laughing.

I thought it was very funny and I still do – but on a more serious note. I read this line from Fight Club today.

“Our generation has had no Great Depression, no Great War. Our war is spiritual. Our depression is our lives.”

I can’t help but wonder is our spiritual war against these shoes. At the time I wanted to ask this guy if he had ever given any thought to where his fabulously expensive shoes are coming from. But my desire to be popular at parties ashamedly stopped me. Maybe I am as shallow as him. “Our war is spiritual. Our depression is our lives.”