I wish I knew then what I know now...

Dear reader,

There comes a point in a person's life when a new thought pattern develops; they start wishing for things they've never wished for before. They start imagining how great life could have been. If only I did this instead of that. If only I could do it over. If only I knew then what I know now. As children, thoughts like these never occurred to us. We never wished to go back to a certain period of time, we never pined for that particular day when we had so much fun at the beach...or finger-painting...or playing tag with our friends. If we had such a good time doing something, we'd go out the next day and do it again. We looked forward to every new day instead of recoiling in horror at the approach of another day of classes, or another day at the office. We've lost our childlike wonder. We've grown out of it; that quality of looking at the world through young eyes. Everything was magical and new and wonderful. Wonderful...full of wonder. Wouldn't it be awesome if the world were full of wonder again?

Here's a list of some of the things that I know now, and wish I knew then:

1. Do your homework. Study consistently. Don't be lazy. Don't procrastinate...and all that jazz.
2. Ask questions. Do it before the moment has passed; you'll never get that moment back again.
3. Read labels carefully before partaking of any processed foods/beverages. Or else suffer the consequences of drinking what you naively thought was ginger tea--perfect for your sore throat--which turned out to be Detox ginger tea instead. So now, not only are you coughing incessantly, you also have diarrhoea.
4. Don't let anyone intimidate you or undermine you into doing something you don't want to do. Stay true to your convictions, even if it costs you the approval of other people.
5. Walking on a cement curb requires balance. Heavy backpacks decrease balance incrementally. Therefore, do not walk on cement curbs while carrying heavy backpacks.
6. Mountain-climbing is fun...on the way up. On the way down, it stops being 'fun' and starts being 'excruciatingly painful'.
7. Speak up; people will listen. And they're kinder than you give them credit for.
8. Never, ever stretch your fonts. Ever. And please, for the love of God, do not use Comic Sans.
9. Some sentiments can only be truly expressed through profanity. Just don't swear in front of your parents.
10. Learn how to take criticism gracefully. Even if you hate being told what to do (like me) use the advice given to you...or at least pretend that you're considering it. This shows respect and that you're not too proud to learn from others.
11. Cut your folks some slack. They might be incorrigible nags, but that's just because they want you to know the things they know now, but wished they knew then. Hmm...yeah.
12. Cultivate a culture of excellence. Nothing is quite as satisfying as proving to someone that they wrong for underestimating you.
13. Welcome new responsibilities, embrace challenges; they expand your capacity. Even if you feel abominably reluctant and awkward at the prospect of holding any type of leadership role (like me).

And so. There you have it. 19 years summed up in 13 points. I wonder if I should add 6 more, just for the sake of unity or coherence or something. Nah. 13 is quite enough. In fact, dear reader, I'd be impressed if you managed to read the entire list without simply skipping to the end.

Hmm, number 1...2...3...this is getting boring. What's the last one? 13? Ahhh. Okay, done.

See, I know how you think. It's almost scary the way I just typed out your thoughts, isn't it? Didn't you know, my unsuspecting reader? I'm psychic.

Pfft...psychic. Psycho's more like it.


There! I did it again! Hey...don't be mean.


Alright, alright. I'll stop now. It's getting boring anyway. Oh, before I sign off...how about you? What's the one thing you know now and wish you knew then? Is is something funny? Something embarrassing? Or is it just something that would've saved you a lot of time and effort if you'd known beforehand?


Okay, so this officially marks the end of today's blog post. I guess I'll be seeing you. Til next time, dear reader, I remain...








Yours,



Figgy the Detoxified

Not horribly sick, just slightly so

Dear reader,






I'm sick. Not horribly sick, just slightly so. But I still feel phlegmatic and out of sorts. You know that gravelly, sandpapery feeling you get in your throat when you're fighting a flu or fever? I hate that feeling. It's so undermining...it makes you feel subhuman, as if you've morphed from a perfectly average, functioning member of society into some sort of husky-voiced, achy-jointed, mucus-filled excuse for a human being. There's some sort of flu epidemic going around here, everybody's getting sick lately. I think I'll be relatively well by tomorrow, though.


I stayed home today on the pretence that I was too ill to get out of bed. Honestly, I was just too tired and lazy to deal with...everything. I walked into the kitchen earlier today, at around noon--my hunger effectively bringing me out of my comatose state--and my mother said she thought I had classes, were they cancelled? As an afterthought, probably remembering me complain yesterday that I wasn't feeling well, she asked me if I was sick. I answered her and my voice sounded quite unlike itself, surprising me for a second. I croaked, "Of all the days to be sick, Monday is the best because I only have one class."

Oh, as a side note, there was a lovely storm today. There was thunder and lightning everywhere, intermingled with the sound of heavy rain beating down on the roof. Pity it didn't last longer, though. I know I've said it before, but I'll say it again: I love rainstorms.


I have a presentation on Wednesday. I hope my voice reverts back to its usual pitch before then. It's distracting, having a strange sounding voice come out of your mouth, then realizing a split second later that its actually your own. I haven't even finished up the slides yet. But then, what else is new? It's only English anyway. My topic is: Technology promotes laziness and is creating 'dumber' generations. Yeah. Not the juiciest presentation topic out there, but I chose it myself, so I have absolutely no excuse. I went through my outline with my English lecturer last Friday, having only just finished and printed the thing minutes before showing it to her. Incidentally, she's quite an interesting character...as most of the English lecturers in Swinburne seem to be. There was this one English teacher in my school as well, who I can only describe as eccentric. I wonder why all us word-lovers (all these English teachers and lecturers, at one point or another, have expressed an interest in linguistics) manage to find each other. It's like we're drawn to one another. Like Anne Shirley and her kindred spirits. 


So anyway, once I finished explaining to her what I planned on saying in each slide--I was winging it quite desperately at this point--she told me that I was on a different wavelength than my classmates. 
Oh, dear, I thought to myself. Is that a good thing?
I asked her as much: "Is that a good thing?"
She assured me it was. She said I was a very thoughtful person, whereas she noticed my classmates were more of the touch-n-go variety. I wisely kept my thoughts to myself; I was having flashbacks of me frantically rushing through my main points, sifting through web page after web page for relevant information, staggering down to the library to print the darn thing off, almost having a conniption waiting in line for the printer, then jogging to the next block and up two floors to arrive in her class, a whole half an hour late.

So I'm not touch-n-go, eh? If you say so, Madam Lecturer. Needless to say, I was flattered by her comment. I'm glad someone thinks I'm a thoughtful person. I'd rather be thoughtful and quiet than noisy and silly any day. Not that these qualities are mutually exclusive. You can be thoughtful and silly at the same time. I consider myself to come under this category.

Well. I suppose that's all I have to say for today. I'll catch you later, dear reader. Til next time, I remain...



Yours,



Figgy the Phlegmatic

Awkward. Erratic. Memorable.

Dear reader,




I'm supposed to be in class. I'm not...I played hookey. Obviously. It was just graphic design anyway, lots of principles and theories and terminology like composition, line weight, unity, negative space and saturation. I'll just read up on the material myself later. No harm done. But that's not what I wanted to share with you today. I just wanted to get that nagging feeling of guilt off my chest. I know, I'm a total square. Today's real topic is: old movies, and why I love watching them. So, let's commence, shall we? Commencing...


I just love old movies. There's something so unassuming and endearing about them. For example, the fist fights are always so awkward and unchoreographed. Fists flying everywhere, limbs grappling, the hero decking the bad guy and making him sprawl back on the ground, his arms flailing. Other than the silly sound effects--BAM! DUSH! UFF!--it's actually more realistic and believable that way. Not everyone is a ninja assassin/shaolin warrior superhero...or Matt Damon's stuntman in the Bourne movies. Which is pretty much the same thing. Anyway, I think when two ordinary guys get in a testosterone-fueled fight, that's probably what it would look like: fists flying everywhere, limbs grappling, the hero decking the bad guy and making him sprawl back on the ground, his arms flailing.


Another thing I love about old movies is their lack of plot build up. The plots were so erratic, full of so many tiny little things happening all at once, that it's hard to remember the exact sequence of events. Just like in real life. The stories tended to focus on the characters rather than the events happening around them. I like that, it makes the characters feel more human.


Oh, another thing I love, the conversations between the characters. Why can't people talk more like that these days? It's like they weren't just talking, they were...building. One person would speak, then the other would reply, picking up where the first had left off. And they would continue like that, their replies building and growing and becoming something. Something substantial. Something memorable. Something real.


I know I'm not exactly an old movie buff or anything, but to emphasise my point, I'd like to show you some examples of what I mean. Read on, dear reader.

Why I Like Old Movies (with accompanying examples)
1. Awkward fight scenes: watch an old Western, any old Western. The hero will inevitably duke it out with the bad guy at some point in the film, sometimes more than once, if the bad guy was particularly vindictive. Or particularly stupid. Old Westerns have the best awkward scuffles. Not to mention bar fights.










2. Erratic plotline: 'Rebel Without a Cause'. If you haven't watched this yet, dear reader, you should. It's so sad and moving and funny. And the plot is indeed erratic. It never seems to climax, at least not until the very end. You know, now that I think about it, it has at least one awkward fight scene in it as well, involving a high school bully, something about cars, a concealed knife and a planetarium. If I recall correctly.

3. Memorable conversations: 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'. Well. Enough said, I suppose.

Incidentally, have you ever read the original story? I saw it at a book store and skimmed through a few pages. The movie was much more innocent compared to the story. The on-screen version left more things to the imagination. Well, what do you expect with a story written by Truman Capote? 


Oh, another movie with memorable conversations: 'Casablanca'. I loved the interaction between Captain Renault and Rick. Their sarcasm and dry humour is lovely to watch.

Captain Renault: I've often speculated why you don't return to America. Did you abscond with the church funds? Run off with a senator's wife? I like to think you killed a man. It's the Romantic in me.

Rick: It was a combination of all three.

I suppose the reason why I like old movies so much is because they feel real. The characters are real people, not just Hollywood actors. I also love how the actors weren't even all that good-looking. They weren't ugly or anything, they were just average. Take Humphrey Bogart, for example. Not exactly Brad Pitt, at least in the looks department. But then again, there's just something about him that grabs your attention, that makes you follow him with your eyes as he walks across the screen, waiting to see what he'll do or say next. Or is it just me? Ah, charisma. That's the word I was looking for. And presence. Another word I was looking for. Humphrey Bogart had both, in generous amounts.


Anyway. I suppose I should just stop here. I have homework to do. I'm an official design student now :)
So, til next time, I remain...








Yours






Figgy the Awkward, Erratic and Memorable