So. It's a new semester and I've learnt some hard truths about my future profession. It's not all swanning around in long white coats and patting pretty kitty cats, oh no. Here's some 4 facts to life as a veterinarian which any aspiring animal-lover should know...
1). Firstly. We don't actually earn much money.
Which is a surprise, seeing how much moolah it takes to get my girls annually checked. My vets say, 'Your cats look great! $300, please,' while I struggle to scrape together enough change to stop them setting their wolverine-dobermann hybrids on me. Word in the lecture theatre though, is that vets at the RSPCA get paid $20 an hour for their services - that's less than I get being a checkout chick at Coles! Sure, everyone says, 'I want to be a vet because I love animals...!' but I'm sure I'm not the only one who appends , '...and rolling around in $100 notes while my trained gorilla butler serves me a strawberry daiquiri out of a crystal goblet' to the end. After all, we also...
2). Have one of the worst injury rates of any profession in the world.
We're in the same position that the mining industry was, 20 years ago. After cheerily informing us of this fact, our lecturer proceeded to regale us with funny stories about the time a dog bit him in the junk, the 65kg rottweiler that put his best friend in ICU for two days... and all those poor vets in Queensland who contracted Hendra from their patients and died horribly within 24 hours. According to "Disease and Injury Rates among veterinarians", 71% of vets have been seriously injured in the last 10 years. Wanting a job that pays $20 an hour risking life and limb to express the anal glands of an alsatian attempting to bite your fingers off seems terribly masochistic to me. Which leads me to...
3). Being a vet is a thankless, soul-crushing task.
You wake up at 4am to shove your arm up a cow's rear end in the freezing cold. Then clean the pus from a cat's ear while it attempts to disembowel you with its claws. After that, you'll remove a life-threatening wire from a dog's paw, only to have it thank you by latching onto your wrist. Your human clients aren't much better. Owners will introduce their 70kg slavering pet rottweilers to you with, 'He's a little bit nervous, so please be gentle', when it's very clear to you that their snarling, teeth-baring, barely-coiled mountain of muscle is certainly out for your blood. Vets are right up there with circus performers, zoo keepers and speed skaters as 'top professionals which everyone is secretly hoping will get horribly injured to the strains of our incredulous laughter.' On the one hand, I can understand the sentiment - after all, we're professionals and we're getting paid (not very much!) to know our stuff. But on the other hand, I can't help but think that ghastly unsympathetic pet owners are part of the reason for why...
4). Vets, as a group, have one of the highest rates of suicides in the professional world.
We're right up there with dentists and doctors (I feel for you guys) - the high-stress, high-workload, low-pay, highly competitive environment takes its toll on our frazzled minds. It could also be the fact that the profession attracts people who are ambitious, opinionated and a little bit insane to begin with.
Overwhelming, isn't it? Think of it the next time you're at your local vet and then give them a big, sympathetic hug. Make sure they aren't holding any needles, because vets are twitchy people who may react unpredictably to unexpected displays of affection.
So then, I guess the question is - why haven't I transferred into medicine or taken up plumbing yet? Well, the fact that animals are fascinating (if murderous) little critters helps. Did I mention we're having an all-expenses paid excursion to NE Victoria in the middle of the semester? I just repeat my mantra... 'think of the puppies, Peech. Think of the kitties. Fuzzy wuzzy kitty cats! Happy chappy puppy dogs!' And somehow, I'm still holding on.
Cargo slithered across his victim with mortal determination. Attracted to the warmth, he could taste the fear.
I froze: a 2 metre olive python was hanging around my neck!
I had a deal, I tell myself. My friend would sing karaoke, and I would hold a snake at a reptile centre in Alice Springs. She kept her part of the deal. Now it was my turn. Good old Alice emerged faster than I anticipated from the red dust.
But I was in for a surprise; Cargo wasn't that scary. I had no reason to be afraid at all.
As with most fears, they are just fears - nothing else. Maybe that's something to be reminded of for semester 2.
Also, I got my revenge. For when it was my friend's turn, Cargo started pooing. Maybe out of fear for me?
Observations, Day One: your average student has funkier clothes, shinier hair, heavier make-up (predominantly females, but hey, who am I to judge?) and a much less downtrodden attitude than a month ago!
It’s kind of intimidating for sick, lazy people like me who turn up in B-grade clothes and already worried about failing. The masses will all come round to my way of thinking soon enough, though.
Another observation – my first two lectures consisted of about 90% questions. It was incredibility frustrating , but I’m also hooked to turn up and learn the answers!
I also get to blog for assessment in Culture, Media and Everyday Life. Awesome.
Since exams finished, I have had a glorious month sans uni in which to ponder some of life’s great questions, like who would win Australia’s Next Top Model, whether Metric’s new album Fantasies is better than their last*, and if I’d miss something crucial should I choose to skip chapter eleven of Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Grey.
(Seriously, excellent book until said instalment, i.e. a gajillion pages of Wilde showcasing his own knowledge of precious stones and ancient Greek mythology. I was like, okay, I get it, Dorian’s a hedonist who engages in wilful tapestry-flinging, he loves decadence and has a weird passion for embroidery, obviously never knew the strain of a GFC, move on. Thankfully, we were back to murder and crack dens in the following chapter.)
Hiatus highlights:
i. Going north to get warm. I like Melbourne, and I like winter, but for a while there things were getting a bit too Fargo. At which point I promptly left for sunnier climes, and thrust my white body on the sand. Victory!
ii. Kickin’ it old school at Manchester Lane. Champagne + Oliver Clark and the Miles High Jazz Orchestra = a good old-fashioned romp. We danced and danced. Incidentally, saw Lawrence Leung there. Briefly fell in love with his facial hair and jazz hands. Coolest cat in town.
iii. Hibernation. Endless pots of tea and toast, socks, and The First Tuesday Book Club. Oh baby. How will I ever go back to uni?
Hiatus lowlights:
i. Having to pay car insurance and registration. Also known as pecuniary rape. Thank you, AAMI, for allowing six-monthly instalments to be paid. This allowed me to put $6 of petrol in the tank so that I could get to the post office to pay the bill. Amen.
ii. Michael Jackson’s funeral. Um, enough. Just because he wrote Thriller, doesn’t mean he didn’t touch children. Has paedophilia become the new Eva Cassidy? I mean, Christ, let’s canonise Gary Glitter when he kicks the bucket, too.
iii. Anti-climaxes. So Scarlett and I got a gig at a local pub. High fived. Practiced. Organised a set (which included an acoustic cover of Interpol’s Slow Hands – oh, the innovation!). Turned up. Bar staff were like, what’s up. We were like, yo, we have gig. They were like, dude, go for it. Informed us that the tosser overseeing gigs was ‘in a bad mood’ and refused to leave his office. I’m actually not kidding. We set up, played our set to an assortment of bemused friends and patrons (including an intellectually disabled woman who shouted ‘Happy birthday!’ at us throughout the first few songs. I swear this is true). And NEITHER OF US IS ASSERTIVE ENOUGH TO ASK FOR OUR MONEY so at the end of our hour slot, we packed up our gear and left unpaid. Nick Cave would have been more assertive.
So now second semester is upon us, and I am one eighth of the way through my degree. Comfortably settled in the pigpen of university life, but with plenty of time left to move to Fitzroy and live out Monkey Grip or whatever. I’ve bought my new books; was disheartened by sheer mass of Globalisation notes. I’ve gone round two with the stupid timetabling system. (Alloc8 is smart, but I had vodka on my side.) Bring it on, bitch.
* Jury’s out. For the past month Emily Haines and her merry band of Ontario’ites have accompanied me in the car, before my exams, on the plane—we’ve even been jogging together. Live it Out was bombastic, Fantasies is Haines on happy gas. Is one better than the other? Is George Negus better than Andrew Denton? I just don’t know.
Blog, if you were a lover, you would have left me long ago.
Luckily, that’s not the case, so I can turn up late and not get dumped!
I just finished my exams. Why, oh why, are you doing your exams 5 days before the start of next term, I hear you asking? Supplementary exams. Last session, of the last day of supplementary exams. Which is would, in fact, be okay if I didn’t have the flu and it wasn’t raining. Good times.
Is anyone else endlessly bewildered and frustrated by the bureaucracy of university? I don’t plan to sit at my laptop and complain in length about it, but sometimes I feel like there is no communication between the schools of Arts. I was trying to organise my exams, which I have AEA for, and everyone kept telling be to ring the school for my different subjects…which I proceeded to do, only to get answering machines or confused silences in reply. Luckily, it all turned out okay, but at times there was angst.
And also (last gripe, I swear), lack of feedback of assignments. I know that tutors have a massive marking load, but it was one particular example that really vexed me.
The subject: Creative Writing
The assignment: 1500 words fiction piece.
Effort I put it: Lots! At least 10 hours.
Feddback: ….the mark. Two figures. Not a tick, or a word or even a smiley on the story itself. I had no indication the tutor had even read it.
I got an H3. Clearly, there were some problems with it. Do I know what they were? Not an earthly clue. Thanks, tutor.
*frustrated sigh*
Anyway. Awesome stuff about uni? FOOTY.
I’m playing with the girls’ Aussie Rules team and they’re amazing. Such a dedicated and passionate group of women.
Playing basketball, too, which is also fun.
Sport is a great way to get involved and (almost) everyone is so friendly!!
I’m going to Sydney now. I have two days of holidays to enjoy!
"Hey guys!"
Daniel sees nothing except a dark eeriness that has penetrated the audience's chamber, shining a light futively to the left and then the right, he knows it is too late.
"I've left you all for too long...... How did this occur? What did I do wrong?"
Nothing...... he simply was too lazy to continue writing up on a stage week after week captivating those he couldn't see. So he stopped.
"WHat the deuce?" Daniel cried out nervously. "What in the University Results day was that?"
ME!
MWAAHHAHAHAHAH
Ok, this is just a friendly reminder to say that nobody has forgottern about this blog site, or my kind of already broken promise to keep writing at least once a week. Instead we've become, or really I've become preoccupied. So much so that I've managed to forget a short story competition that I was going to apply for.
But already I digress and time grows short (at least for me, I've got work in the morning). After exams (this is the uni important bit) I've kind of slipped back into meeting up with my old friends spread across the city to a unmeasurable amount (by the count of one hand) and only met up with my university friends a paltry once or twice, which is interesting.
I'm worried however; about my willingness or depth of longing I had for when I used to hang out with my old friends, you know having everything the way it was, making things perfect. I know it doesn't sound bad but in the place of one group of friends another disapears, welll the chance of meeting uni people does.
I don't think it's unnatural that I want to hang out with my buddies so much, its more surprising to see the huge change the holidays has brought to people who go to uni. Take this blog for example, no university, no updates. Which is kind of depressing. Look at the sudden deadness of the university community, walk into uni, it feels really sad.
Well sadder than it would be if it were full of people mucking around and having a good time. Hmmm I think I miss university too much.
What else to tease about?
I wish to enter a short story competition, hopefully.
Enjoy your Holidays!
Daniel/Yoddeuss
YEAH. it was alright. For me, the first was a lot better - this one was too like.. convenient. Also does anyone know where the twins went?! They were alive then I've not a clue where they disappeared to .. But yes, WORTH WATCHING IT REGARDLESS because the effects and amount of explosions and the work put into the movie must've been monumental. Just felt that, despite being long, a lot of the movie was just.. I dunno. Make your own judgements! Also gives a couple laughs too =D the twin's and the little decepticon dude are funny.
ASH
Well it's the holidays with no exams impending, no job to keep me shackled to the institution of the man (read bank account) and a lot of time to start writing.
So to keep existential and minimalistic about it I've come up with dot points to discribe the semester.
- Talking and being polite makes a lot of good friends.
- Do things outside of university too.
- Homer to Hollywood can be fun (but is confuddled)
- Keep an ear to the ground for everything, but don't force yourself to do things.
- Keep interesting.
- Find a new route to uni everyday, it helps to smell the roses.
- Explore random theaters at uni (note bond-villian type lair spot basement theater).
- Talk to your tutors, they usually like the encouragement.
- Sleep on time, you can get really tired if you don't.
- Enjoy Uni!
Yep that's what I've come to understand about university in my scant 12 weeks of study.
On the note of study, you can only be disappointed with the shortness of it. I'm looking forward to next semester already, but fear not I'll be filling in my time with writing so I should be able to put up some short stories or the like up on here. Of course they'll be uni life based.
Anyhoo Goodnight/Goodluck
Dan/Yoddeuss.
Why, oh why is the last exam always the hardest to study for? I've definitely slipped into holiday-mode. I can't seem to focus on these... cell-thingies and bone whatchamacallits when gorgeous free, free time is oh so close! Monday, to be precise. Oh, sweet Monday.
I do feel a little guilty about the break, though, because I seem to be the only person I know who hasn't organized placements. When you first start vet science, one of the things they tell you on orientation day is that you, (insert nefarious laughter here) have to complete 8 weeks of farm/shelter duty, you have to organise it completely by yourself, you have to write a report for each week you do and also, you have to do it all on your 'holidays'. Don't look at me, the farm work coordinator put those quote marks in himself. Holidays... hah!
Apart from the report-writing bit though, I'm actually really excited about it. I'm completing the 2 weeks shelter component at the RSPCA, where it's been nothing but endlessly cleaning litter trays every Sunday afternoon... gross. But the 6 weeks of commercial work is full of exciting possibilities! People are talking about joining the cattle muster in the Northern Territory, walking tigers in Thailand or staying at African safari reserves to herd zebras. Hey, even just living on a dairy farm or doing sheep farming in regional Victoria sounds like a huge adventure! I am totally envisioning standing on a wide grassy plain, surrounded by gently mooing Friesians, enjoying a tall glass of incredibly fresh milk/cheese/ice cream. Of course, it'll be more like... waking up at 4am, trudging out to a shed in freezing weather and shovelling cow crap out of a canal.
But I'm still excited. Excited about shovelling cow dung. I'm sure any real farmer would think that I've lost my mind.
...you never know what you're gonna get.
firstly let me just say that i hope everyone's having a relatively stress-free exam period, just think - after the 26th it's a beautiful month filled with nothing! perfect :)
That said i have to rant about the horrible time i'm having; and no it's not purely based on exam stress: i've been faced with one of those situations in life you really wish you could just by-pass, and while i'm not going to belittle it by describing it in a post, lets just say special consideration has been sought. I never ever thought i'd have to apply for special consideration - i've always thought of myself as relatively strong and mentally focussed enough to get through any situation....well, most situations. But having said that i don't think that anyone could ever prepare themselves for the shitty-esque week i've had. Sigh. Anyway, the point to this seemingly pointless rant is to praise the work of the subject coordinators at this university. I thought talking about my issue would be dificult and daunting, but suprisingly i was wrong. One staff member (who shall remain anonymous) has gone out of her way to make this time in my life as stress-free as possible, and for that i thank her tremendously. It's moments like these when you realise how lucky you are to be apart of a place filled with people who actually care about you, instead of the viewing you as a mere number that contributes to the funding of the new science block (or something else to that affect). Anyway, it's Friday and i'm completely drained after my H2H exam (which, by the way i think i may have failed :|), so i'm going to go drown my sorrows over a few drinks with friends.
Take care guys, have a great break!
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