The past week was pretty much one small step into the real world. The journey was mild, but one where I gained immense experience and insight. Things weren’t as placid as they usually are. I became one of them: part of the peak hour human congestion on Wynyard station; and one of the privileged Starbucks VIP’s. Each day, at 9am sharp, I set foot into the glass lift of the MCA, gracing up 5 floors. And then with an arrogant screech, the sliding doors opened, welcoming me to a furnished office, consisting of 50 people who were to become my co-workers for the week, all focused on their shiny Mac screens. Those who were elite had 2.
I can’t say that my experience was riveting. It wasn’t. I didn’t get to see celebrities, nor was I subject to coffee runs or copious amounts of photocopying. In fact I did none. But it was educational and it was what work experience entails. It provided me with a glimpse of what the architecture industry offers, and I was able to gleam over all the sectors which branch off the broader spectrum of Architecture. It hasn’t turned me off pursuing a career in this industry, but it remains as a ‘back-up plan,’ if my initial aspirations do fail.


Day 1 was intimidating. Period. I can’t say how worried I was when I first got there. I literally scared the socks off myself. This was the first time I’d seen the office – a huge expanse overlooking the harbour. I have to say I felt insignificant. I was told to hang up my coat in the closet, to put my lunch in the kitchen, a cup of tea was poured out and I was sat down near the reception. That felt like it all happened in one minute, as if I was being hurried because I was just in everybody’s way. Being the melodramatic person I am, I always think of the worst. Why should I? The first day ended up being pretty amazing. I was so lucky to have been appointed to follow Zuzanna who I swear is one of the nicest people I have ever met. Everything about her is so vivacious. The only ‘downside’ if you can call it that, was that she was a landscape architect. Oh, landscape. The least of my concerns. I don’t know how she did it though, but she made Australian native plants and environmental sustainability more than just mildly interesting. She really captured the nature of landscape architecture, allowing me to create my own landscape for different buildings using Photoshop and showed me all her works, as well as current projects. That was very exciting, as I was able to see the master plans for buildings which are being discussed or in the process of being built, such as Macquarie Uni Library, which features an amazing roof top garden and atrium. That makes Macquarie uni just slightly more appealing. But not really. Throughout the day, Zuzanna offered me drinks, food and took me out to lunch at an Italian restaurant, with some of her friends in the office. It was awkward, especially when they discussed hangovers (I have been there, really…) but generally everybody was friendly, the food was good and I became acquainted with some other workers. Despite her and Richard’s attempts to sell me landscape architecture, I continue to see it to be “dull.” How uncouth of me to be speaking about landscape architecture in such a way. It is after all, extremely important. But no, not for me, thank you. A days’ worth was more than enough.


I spent most of the second day at Sydney Uni’s new law faculty. My “mission” was to design the interior of the café which was being planned to be built in some spare space. It was pretty stressful actually. I had to sketch 4 designs, annotate them all and work out the dimensions of everything. And when I say designs, that includes what the toilet and kitchen will look like. I did all this in the Freehills Law Library, so that was not awkward at all. Whilst everybody else was doing readings or studying, or what not, I was drawing on yellow tracing paper with a scale ruler. Oh conformity! So when I got back to the office, when I thought I could kick back and relax a bit before leaving, I was instead, given a 15 minute crash lesson on how to use ArchiCAD, which is the program which architects use to draw up the plans. It’s actually an extremely handy program as it converts a 2D drawing to 3D, vice versa, and allows you to create virtual tours around the site you draw up. With my limited knowledge of ArchiCAD and unfamiliarity with the Mac keyboard, I was told to draw up my designs. Quickly. That was completed in the remaining 15 mins, as they had to be whisked off the a meeting with the boss… I think that Pru had forgotten to tell me that this task was not just a little practise exercise, but would be taken seriously. It is no wonder that I left work that day feeling stressed and quite overwhelmed about what Jeff might just think of me, aka the failure work experience kid.


So naturally, I would dread the third day back. And when I got there, I did think it would be a bad day, as I was told by Georgia, the receptionist that Jeff wanted to see me. Jeff! The boss. I must have done something quite wrong. But actually not, Jeff was so nice, and he just wanted to meet me, as we hadn’t before. He then told me that they were using one of my designs in the café, but they changed it a bit, by making the café smaller and adding a reading area. He then assigned me to my Mac and told me to draw up the new plan on ArchiCad, instead of what was my intended day of doing interior architecture. I didn't really mind, but oh, great… ArchiCad… again. So again, I spent all day in front of the computer, using ArchiCad. By the end of the week I became a maestro at it, and I am not kidding. Apart from drawing up designs I also looked through brochures to pick furniture and wood, tiling and everything which would need to be bought for the new project. How emancipated you feel when you can choose all the furniture you want without having to look at the price of them. These pieces were not cheap now, and I'm not usually one who looks at price tags and what not when I'm shopping but these were 5 figure sums.

On my final day, I was scheduled to do some model making which was the best of fun, and probably the most enjoyable of the 3. I was given some plans of a current project, and told to build it using materials such as foam board, 2mm thick card and plastic/polyproperlene. I was also told about the consequences of carelessly using the Stanley knife, for it was an extremely special knife which could cut my entire finger off, easily if I were not careful. Luckily all 10 of my digits are still intact. Or so it seems. After making my own little model, I then had to make them for other people, and then I had to make a box for Daniel, who was presenting a talk. He was probably the most indecisive adult I have ever met. And that proved to be extremely annoying because he kept telling me new ideas he had and I kept having to change my design for the box. He also looked strikingly similar to Damien, from Mean Girls. Everything about him shouted Damien, the hair, the height, the look, the way he dressed and the Gay factor. All but the Australian accent. I had this huge urge to ask him if he were in fact, an actor, or related to him, but that might just have been a tad weird.
I was kept in the latest on the last day, as by office tradition, they celebrated at 4:45pm with drinks and finger food. They also cut up my cake then, which looked really cheap compared to the white, sparkling wine they were drinking and the very sophisticated nibbles that had been set out. It was so nice and a great way to say thank you to everybody, and I even felt a bit sad to know that it would be my last time in the office and last time I'd ever walk through those doors and sit at my mac. Unless I get a job there, later... which seems bleak.

From this experience, I have ultimately gained an appreciation for the scheduled life at school. I find a liking in the simplicity which school life offers, and the fact that we are ‘spoon fed’ in many ways. The world which I will enter in 2 years is daunting. There are more holes to fall into, ones which we will not be warned about. Ones which may take years to get out of. The consequences of these mistakes are of much greater scales than handing in an assignment late, or forgetting to wear your black ribbon. Embrace every moment, think of the future, but do not wish for it to come before it is truly time. We are all on this all-knowing train together. Don’t ask for it to stop. It will know when it’s our station. Only then will it be time to get off.

Exams, they are finally pretty much all finished and almost all have been returned. Now I can heave a huge sigh of relief, and continue on life's journey without being overwhelmed by insignificant marks and stress. By now, I have realised that 9/20 in a French listening exam will not effect me even the slightest in the long run and though I'm really not all that good at it, it is a subject I am wholly passionate about. And though it has finally been revealed that I am not as bad at Geography as I had previously thought and despite Sarmie's wise words of encouragement, I have not winced even a bit about continuing this boring subject next year. Nor has my surprisingly good PE dance mark prompted me to take Aboriginal dancing lessons. Evidently, marks are not all. They do not define us.
Now, weekends without the need to complete assignments in a frenzy, without the stress, without the worries and with some mysterious ailment proves to be much more mind-shatteringly mundane than I had hoped they would be, and I will admit that I do somewhat prefer those days with extreme mountains of work. Or maybe not.
Our basketball season this year has proved to be bleak. We have won a mere one game, out of the 5 we have played. But I am determined to win the following two next week. I also managed to reunite with an old friend of mine on the court, after exchanging an "oh hello! I haven't seen you for ages" chat, snatching the ball from her, and dribbling it away. Only to have it stolen by her.
And it appears I have run out of meaningful things to say...

Charmaine has somehow managed to convince me to write a post about her and her quirky ways. And thus, Charmaine, I dedicate this post to you wholly.
Now just for the record, I would like to point out that it is now Tuesday the 26th of June, and I wrote the previous 2 sentences last Saturday, I believe. If my memory has not failed me, as if often so does. The point is that this is extremely belated, and I am genuinely sorry, so I hope that this post filled with memories and all things amazing on you, Charmaine, will make up for my delay.

I have been blessed to have Charmaine in my life for 4 years now. I know we've actually known each other for longer, but those years were woozy ones, which essentially do not count. Though I cannot recall the events of that fateful day in year 6/7, when we were reunited, with exact precision, there are some fragmented memories which have stuck through time. To name, I particularly remember eating with her, and Jessica Li, on orientation day. We dined finely on the upper oval, and I remember that I was chased by a horried monster, by the name of Jessica Hui.
I also remember the first day of school, when we were having recess. It was spent underneath that round tree near the front gate, and I remember offering both her and Suzie Fulton some of my recess, which was a Nutella dip kind of a thing, with peach tea on one side. It was pretty cool, and pretty tasty, but both her and Suzie declined. I guess I got the impression she was quite reserved, and perhaps did not fancy sharing food, but little did I know. Today's Charmaine Hui can be likened to a hungry vulture. Every recess and lunch, she stalks the contents of my lunchbox, and will perpetually ask me, "Do you have any yummy food for me?"
Charmaine is also an extremely gifted musician. She is competent in the violin, piano, guitar and a songbird. I am also assured she is a capable recorder player, and trianglist. From her musical abilities, I feel, have blossomed another hidden talent - she has a knack for queer, bogan Texan accents. She has encompassed the vocalities of people such as Victoria the "Imgonnahaveabab-y" 15 year old, Peeny, Mary and Nicki, whom all stared in her Elective history presentation on the Lindberg baby. And, Charmaine is quite a reliable source of knowledge in regard to a pivotal figure in my life. She is always ready to sacrifice some of her reputation to discover more of the Pooper Scooper's life for both our own benefits.
Charmaine my friend, has quite a sense of humour, one she seems to be oblivious to. I cannot recall a certain instance at the moment, but she has definitely made me laugh so hard that I have almost wet my pants. And this, my friends, is not a one off, it has happened on numerous occassions.
Charmaine and I also have quite a connection, one so strong that her thoughts speak to me. One very special night, the night before the athletics carnival, so it seems, we had the strongest connection to date. Voices spoke to me in my head, and prompted me with a very unique name to label my special friend. After a long time spent deciphering the name, it was exposed to be HAMOON. And I shall refer her to that name forevermore. With the dance, of course.
Charmaine, not a bad word can be said about you. Your a thousand watt smile radiates throughout the world, and turns ever frown, upside down. Though you're petite in stature, you have a huge, caring heart, and though you're pretty darn ugly, I will always love you.

Promises. They are made, they are followed, they are broken. You can promise somebody that you'll always be their friend, that you'll do the dishes. You can make promises about the unknown, or to yourself, or about your desires. That one you'll become a trophy wife, the richest woman, that you'll give up on smoking and binge drinking, and one day you just won't put up with your boss anymore. Promises, we make them to ourselves and to others with the intent to follow. But so often, too often, they are not. They are shattered, punctured, broken. And all that is left, is regret which weighs as heavy as a stone, and sheer dissapointment, of a promise unperformed.


English was first period today, which is always lovely. Especially if it is spent on creative writing.