Terminal Boredom
Of Weddings and Responsibilities

So last night my older sister got married! They timed it perfectly, so that at the stroke of midnight their wedding turned into their 10th anniversary, which I though was pretty cool. I probably mentioned it before, but just before I left for the US of A, my sister sprang on me that I’d be the MC of her wedding, and this was after I had refused a while before. I knew I’d be getting a speech, but the MC thing was a whole new debacle waiting to happen.

So the night before I got the timings of the afternoon. I was going off a sheet of paper. I got there, and my “She’ll be right,” attitude was tried and tested as it dawned on me just how big a deal it was. I knew it was a big sort of thing, but I didn’t realise how much a difference it would make when I didn’t have a fucking clue what was going on. I wasn’t even invited to the rehearsal. I didn’t know the specifics, just a few times. I had the person in charge of the venue coming up to me to tell me when things should be happening, which was good, but there were so many little things that I didn’t know about it wasn’t funny. The DJ ended up telling me more than anything or anyone else. The DJ!!! When I’d get the mic from him he’d fill me in on what was going on. He was the most helpful person to me all night. A few things I forgot because I was nervous as fuck, for example, after getting through my own speech (which wasn’t prepared, I had a few things written down and thought it best to just talk through it as I went) I completely forgot that after me was my sister, and then Stephen, you know, the bride and the groom! There were so many moments where I’d get through my bit on the microphone, and then have to go “Wait!! I forgot the most important bit!” and then proceed to the thing I either forgot or didn’t even know about. I’m not exactly a wedding veteran or expert. Out of the entire room, there were probably 6 or 7 people that had been to less weddings than me, and 3 of those were babies!!!

Anyway. It really was a great evening, but my ineptitude as MC and the lack of information or preparation I was given make me feel pretty awful about my contribution. Everyone kept telling me what a great job I was doing and had done, but that is what you’re SUPPOSED to say! I’m sure the entire room cringed about 3/4 times I spoke. I’m an open person, when I’d forgotten something, I would tell them before I’d continue with what I had forgot. I made a point of not getting drunk, because I knew I had a speech to make. When everyone started pulling out their flasks I told them, “I left mine at home on purpose!” because I knew I had responsibilities, but I didn’t entirely know what they were. I know my sister had a quadrillion other things to worry about, but I had my own set of worries because I wasn’t sure what was going on just about every time I had to speak. I was going off what the woman told me, and then what the DJ would say as I grabbed the mic off of him. That is usually less than 30 seconds of prep before I had to make the announcements.

While the night was pretty awesome, and I know everyone had a good time, I really wish I didn’t to be the MC. I had a go at it, but ultimately it was pretty crap, and while my speech had some good stuff in there, it was still pretty awkward half the time because I hate speaking in front of crowds, especially when most of them know you, and have known you your entire life. While Laura will tell me I did a great job, I know that I really didn’t, and feel pretty bad about it. I wish I could have just sat back and enjoyed the wedding, only having to worry about my speech, but the whole MC thing on top of that was a bit much. I spent the entire time checking the timetable to see what I had to talk about next. I mean, I got to the end of the night and thanked everybody awkwardly for coming etc, but then the DJ had to tell me about making the archway for the newlyweds, which I didn’t even know about! The sheet had “last dance” circled, which I was prepared for thanks to the DJ. So then I had to awkwardly admit I’d forgotten something, well, I didn’t forget something I didn’t know about, but you get the point. So fucking awkward. I just wanted to curl up in a corner and die.

I guess I’ve gotten my point across. It was a good night, but there was a lot about it that I wish I could have avoided. I hope I don’t get put into such a position, without knowing what I’m doing, again. Laura said she wanted me to do it, but I really wasn’t the person for it. I’m not confident, I just threw myself into it because I knew I had to.

Anyway, I’m going to finish this Opeth album and probably watch Castle or something to take my mind off of it.

Oh, and in the week that I’ve been back now, I landed four shifts at work, with a fifth that I was offered this afternoon which I have pretty much accepted. Why? Because the new/old and refurbished Aquatic Centre at Hornsby has now opened. I want to go for a job there myself, but most of the people at my work have made the move to there, for more money. One of the biggest differences, I feel, is that they get time and a half on Saturdays and double on Sundays, where at my work you don’t. Having worked more 9 hour Saturday shifts followed by 4 hour Sunday shifts than I can count, having those pay differences would make a ridiculous amount of money difference. I don’t want to take these shifts for granted, but, until I know how much I am earning per hour once I put in my Austswim credentials (I am now qualified to teach babies and infants classes, long story) I won’t know just how much I could be making. I want to get a Saturday shift there, or Sunday if I could, but I guess fate will tell. I heard they have a physical test, which I would surely struggle to pass or fail, which is annoying. If they hired by looks alone I would be turned away at the door.
Anyway, I have a guarenteed income at the moment, so maybe I’m just getting greedy. Where there’s more money involved than you are getting at the moment, anyone can crumble and expect more.

We will see what happens. It might be time to finally write a resume, and what a resume it will be.

So, in other news, my little sister has been fainting recently. When I got back from America I learned that she had started fainting for no reason. Ambulances have been called, and yesterday my parents drove into the city to collect her. She hasn’t been taking it very seriously, which means that until now I hadn’t either, because she didn’t sound very concerned. Tonight I realised, though, it was because she is a silly 19 year old who isn’t taking her own health seriously, as teenagers really don’t.

She has been fainting multiple times a day, and from what I know it is down to blood sugar levels, which makes me wonder if she is diabetic, but since she has now had a proper blood test analysed, and at least one ambulance called (as far as I know), it mustn’t be that, because they would have figured that out by now.

So my parents and my little sister had a big fight about her going into the city early tomorrow/today, because my sister just doesn’t understand that a single hour of sleep extra can mean the difference between fainting and not (even the doctors haven’t gotten to the root of the problem) so I volunteered myself to go with her early tomorrow, partly so I could continue watching my episode of Orphan Black (they were fighting for a while), but mainly because she would have gone in early regardless of anything she was told. I’m probably going to spend most of the day with her, even though if she faints, realistically she would have been with her friends anyway, and I am in no way trained to handle her fainting any different to the people around her. I have first aid training, I can put her in the recovery position and wait for an ambulance, even though I know she will just wake up and feel tired an embarrassed, though I would call an ambulance anyway because that is what you need to do in these situations.

So, I am sacrificing my Friday sleep in for my stupid sister, who just doesn’t want to accept the brevity of her situation. Sibling love, eh.

By the way, listening to Machine Head’s The Blackening. Amazing album.

So I just watched the Legend of Korra Season 3 finale, and fuck me, that was good. The first season of Korra was a massive let down, and I will assume that is down to the creators not knowing exactly how many episodes they would get. What started as a few episodes turned into a season, of unknown episodes I assume, and then continued into four seasons, last time I checked. I can forgive that. My main points of contention were the obsession with dixieland music, and the annoying voice-over guy who started each episode (possibly reminding me of Clone Wars just a little too much, which, if you know me, is a big deal because fuck Clone Wars, the show that sacrificed Star Wars canon and good story telling for a fucking kids show, anyway…).

Anyway. The second season of Korra was something truly amazing. Those last few episodes really were some of my favourite, and those flashback episodes that explained the early history of the world were probably my favourite episodes of anything animated of all time. The art direction and animation, the story, holy crap. So this last season of Korra I watched while on camp, and those 22 minutes every week really took me away to somewhere special, the only thing I wished was that I could watch it with my little sister, like I have the entire way through Korra’s story. Well, I plan to watch the entire season again with my sister, who hasn’t seen any yet.

Anyway, that finale was fucking amazing. The fights were epic as shit, and I am so excited for the final season. I feel they have done a similar thing to Harry Potter, where the target audience have grown up as the seasons have passed and the story has grown more mature. This makes me excited for any potential Avatar after Korra, because I feel that after the job they have done with Korra, I trust them with one last Avatar.

Prepare, Tumblr, for I have consumed several drinks and am about to unleash my current thought processes on you.

Briefly, Of Camp and Farewells

Seeing as I don’t have the patience to completely describe my camp experience (it would take a very long time) I will share the end of my camp experience, as it is the most fresh in my mind, and also what I have been wanting to share with someone.

So I stayed behind an extra four days at camp, for more money and for relatively free room and board. I stayed with one of my co-staff, who I got along with, but not without a little bit of effort. I wish we gelled more, but I felt that we always clashed a little bit. I’m not too sure, I’m not the most socially aware person.

Anyway. The children left on the 14th of August. That night was boat cruise, a night of drunkenness and debauchery, and a tale unto itself (which I shall not tell just yet). The bunk councillors, mostly Americans left on the morning of the 15th, leaving the majority of the Activity Councillors to work when the Alumni came. They all left on the morning of the 18th. I barely held it together when my good friend Aaron, the volleyball councillor, left on the 16th I think it was. I had to go away and cry once he had gone. I kind of broke down when everyone left on the morning of the 18th. It was rushed, and full of quick hugs.

Anyway, on the 22nd I flew down to Miami with Erith, who I worked with for that time. I spent a few days down there, and then I left on the morning of the 26th for home. The thing is, the night before, the majority of us got quite drunk, which I already knew would suck, because it ruins goodbyes completely. People are hungover and recovering, so they aren’t awake at the right times.

So, when the time came for me to leave (I was catching the bus with 3 girls from my hostel room) there were 3 people up, and all I considered myself relatively close to. I said to them, “Well, I’m leaving now.”
“To where?” one asked.
“I’m going home.” I replied.
“Oh.” Silence.
Then I just fucking pushed the initiative, because I could tell none of them really gave a fuck. I told the two Sydney people I’d see them at home, and the British dude who I’ve shared a room with for the entire summer, I gave an awkward hug and said bye.

Then I caught a bus and a plane. Before I left the girls from my hostel room, I got a quick hug, and I got more affection from these girls I’d known for a matter of days, than from the people I’d known for two and a half months. That really broke my heart. All these people I never got to say bye to, and the ones who I actually did, didn’t give a shit. I know nobody really cares about me (with a few notable exceptions), but when nobody even said anything or stood up for a hug, it really hurt. I was leaving America for home, a big deal at the end of camp, and nobody cared. The one who did was asleep and recovering from a hangover. Not her fault, really. I don’t judge her, I just wish she’d been up so I got a hug from someone who cared.

This is what I’ve been thinking about since I got home-the whole “who actually cares” business. It was unfortunate that the person who I was close to at camp, Anthony, was more interested in Skyping his girlfriend than being friends with anyone on camp. He could have made a bigger effort and made more friends, but he didn’t.

I strive to be more than that if I end up returning to camp, which, at the moment, I am really hoping happens. I am saving my tax return for flights, which is a decent amount.

Anyway, enough sadness from me. Time for music and sleep.

I’ve returned from America, and within a week have three permanent shifts at work. Winning!

If I feel it, I might put up a post about camp. Two and a half months of stuff to talk about, but I’ll probably boil it down to some negatives so I can get those out of the way.

I might not, though, because for the last year or more I just haven’t felt like Tumblr much. Eh, less time wasted to scrolling endlessly.


When we joined the Covenant, we took an oath.

On the blood of our fathers, on the blood of our sons, we swore to uphold the Covenant!

Well I knew it would happen at some point, and it did.

oh my god i’m fucking sick of this generation’s mentality that your sadness is beautiful and somebody will fix you and all this fucking john green shit nobody will find you in a bookstore reading bukowski and want to lie with you and nobody will kiss your scars and you will not be like effie and freddie you’ve got to be your own fucking hero and surround yourself with positivity

So an 8 or so year old girl at work asked me out of the blue if I was Catholic, and my unprepared, panicky and immediate response was to reply “I’m awesome!” before fleeing up to the other end of the pool while she proceeded to ask the girl next to her if she was Catholic.
I’m so glad I didn’t let slip one of my most common lines when I’m working: “Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnope!!!”
If I had that would have been super awkward.
Guess I’m now religious. I wonder how many people write their religion as “Awesome” when it comes to census time.


paul s. kemp gives us a deep insight into writing lords of the sith


paul s. kemp gives us a deep insight into writing lords of the sith

I am currently dealing with my failings by listening to folk metal and imagining conversations in my head.