Someone the other day told me they didn't attend any lectures except for week 1 and week 12 of a certain subject last semester because they didn't think the lecturer contributed anything of added value.
This person is doing the same for another subject this semester.
It got me thinking....
Could it worthwhile to miss lectures?
Me being me, has been an avid lecture-goer since the start. Missing one would be one of the worst days of my life! Of course over the year so far, I have missed probably 1 or 2 in total due to unforseen circumstances.
I guess everyone is different and perhaps lecture-going is one of those things that simply comes down to personal preference.
For me, I have this inner fear that if I don't go I *might* miss something important. Whether that be an example not on the lecture notes, or some reference to the exam.
Also sometimes a lecturer really does bring something to life for you. Nilss Olekalns as my Macro lecture is just amazing in that sense. He makes economics seem so exciting! SO MEANINGFUL! Like "if I understand this I can save the world!"
Added to this is that even if the lecturer doesn't 'add' anything new, there is a revision function lectures provide. It is an extra thing of going through what I need to learn. If I didn't attend, I feel I would lose that.
In a way it is "enforced" study.
And in all honesty, for 2 hours per subject of my time each week....is that really worthwhile to miss considering the possible negatives or missing things, and losing revision of the subject?
From what I know, studies have proven that student who attend lectures, on the whole, outperform other students. I haven't seen this actual evidence but it sounds fairly logical.
On the whole, even though I'm a HECS student...I will be paying for my education when the time comes. I may as well use what my money is providing i.e. lectures.
What do other people think? Do you bother attending lectures? Is it worthwhile?
-Sophie
P.S Despite me saying I value lectures...I would give anything to be a student who does NO work, attends NO lectures and gets H1s in everything! (Ah the joys of being a genius).
I found out the other day that the girl who tried to set my hair on fire in Year 7 dropped out of school and had a baby.
Her partner in crime did exactly the same.
I'm still known back there...I was only at that school two years yet I'm still remembered because of that incident. I find that so funny. If my name is ever mentioned it goes along with "Oh my god! Was she the one who had JK try to set her hair on fire?!"
I ran into a girl at uni the other week, a year below me from that school who also remembered me; my name and all. I had no recollection of ever meeting her in my life.
On the whole, I find it quite strange to be remembered yet somewhat honouring. It is so easy to think of your life as having an effect only on yourself and those you know most closely. Almost in a sense it gives me a sign of the bigger picture - that one person can affect a group, a school, a community; and if you try hard enough, your country or the world.
Right now I think of those two girls and their current predicament with a bemused sense of satisfaction.
For when you are victimised over a long period of time, sometimes the only think that gets you through the days is the pure faith that one day you will climb mountains and they will be left down in the depths below.
You will prevail.
-S.
Disclaimer: This is not a judgement of teenage mothers who I think can be quite capable of raising children.
Disclaimer 2: Ultimately my intent of this post is not to show vindication (i got over what those girls did to me and others a longggg time ago). I want this post to be a lesson to bullies - that they do not have the ultimate power….that those who have been victims in the past (and I know so many), or even right now, are valuable human beings who can contribute so much to the world, despite the intent of a bully to tell you that you are nothing. THEY are wrong.
This must be a miracle - two updates within a week! It's possibly because I'm sitting here at a Uni computer with broadband and having little else to do. Broadband is the coolest thing ever. If I had it at home I would go absolutely crazy downloading things. Legally, of course. Relevance to this blog: Remember kids, if you're going to be moving out of home to a sharehouse or something of the like, it is highly unlikely you'll be able to afford the comforts of broadband. That is, unless you're rich or get someone else to pay for it for you. Or you decide to all chip in for broadband, except then your bandwith is split and the amount you can download is also split. Which doesn't fare well. OK - the direction of this entry has become more convoluted than an episode of The Simpsons. FOCUS.
UPDATES:
* I worked an eight hour shift unpacking boxes and moving stock in the Toys department. Never again do I want to hear about Dora the Explorer or The Wiggles. Never.
* My script got shunted from Short and Sweet, which means I haven't had any success creatively this year at all. A major come down from everything that happened last year.
* I am an Arts Sub-Editor for next year's Farrago. Very exciting!
This is also my 10th post. I am proud of me, I hope you all are too. Now I'm only two behind Jim - watch out Jimmy boy! Ha ha ha. Don't worry I'll get you all during exams when I have time to waste (except for work and my brother coming down from Sydney). I'll post thrice times a day and will become the most revealing, self-indulgent blogger in all of the Internet. Not including My(wasteof)Space, naturally. Otherwise I'd have to compete with a couple of hundred million angsty teenagers for that title.
Ok, I'm gonna get home now. I'm walking because I don't want to start to use my monthly tram ticket until I'm gonna be tramming all day. Relevance to this blog: Remember kids, use monthly tram tickets sparingly!
Peace out.
Have you ever had one of those times when you embarassed yourself, the other person said nothing though you were sure they noticed, so you drew attention to the form of embarassment and made a joke of it.....and then it turned out they didn't actually notice anything in the first place?!
JUST has one of those moments.
*Cringe*
Ah well...life goes on...
PLEASE GO AND SEE AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH.
If there is one thing I want this blog to have achieved this year, it's that at least one person saw this documentary because they read about it in here!!!
I organised the Political Interest Society to see this film last Monday.
It was amazing, inspiring, frightning and a million other things all at once. I left the theatre gob-smacked and with my mind in over-drive. Now I'm on the path to investigating green energy, have intensified my "power saving" mind-set and am telling every single person I meet to see this film. When I get time I'm going to write letters to my local federal government members reminding them that Australia has yet to sign the Kyoto protocol (despite that not being enough anymore)...and over the summer break I'm going to try and see what plans my local council has in place to reduce the community's effect on global warming.
Even if you already know a lot about Global Warming, seeing An Inconvenient Truth just intensifies everything you know 100-fold. You don't just know about it anymore, you wake up to it.
Cinema Nova on Monday has cheap $5 tickets before 4pm which fellow students may like to take advantage of, but prices aren't much more than that on other days. Paying $14 to be educated about an issue that will determine your life, the life of your future children, and the world's destiny is worth it in my humble opinion.
On a side note: Al Gore is incredible. That guy is HOT. I darn well hope he runs for President. Did you know he was one of the few Democrats against the Iraq war from the start? (Hillary VOTED for it!)
Sometimes I wonder how the world would have been different if Florida hadn't been won by a group of republican -sympathising lawyers and academics, flown down on a private jet to help with the case.
The benefit of hindsight right?
Where would the world be now if Gore had won?
And how IS the world going to survive the next 100 years?, as Steven Hawking recently asked.
Optomist or Cynic? Where do you stand on the issue?
-Sophie
Welcome to Introductory Finance...
For your first assignment we plan to set a super easy, no-brainer assignment...you can expect to achieve an H1 with just a bit of effort and not too much stress at all.
For your second assignment, you will start to think you have it all figured out. But then we will take you on a path to the DARK FIERY DEPTHS OF HELL with a topic so confusing in structural nature, that you don't really have an exact idea of what you are really meant to be talking about. We will leave the students dazed and confused, each completely lost and suffering as they attempt to find data amongst hundreds and hundreds of pages of journal articles.
At the end of the assignment, you will hand it in with the expectation of some measly barely-passing mark.
You will then ask yourself why on earth you came to Melbourne with the dream of majoring in Finance.
You will ask why the Department set an assignment worded like THIS:
"Please prepare a short report labled 'Raising external equity capital through rights issues and private placements from 1996-2005.' In your report you should briefly summarise the main reasons and institutional developments in raising external equity capital (rights issues and private placements) over the decade. You should then make an evaluation as to the timing, number and amount of equity capital raised through rights issues as compared to private placements. You need to justify your evaluation - explain why you have taken a particular stance."
Back to work.
Sophie
AS with life, as with competition, as with challenges, as with everything, and so it is with study. The most dangerous time of life is the first fifteen minutes (and the last fifteen can be pretty dodgy, too), the hardest steps of any race are the first ten and the last ten, and so the hardest thing to do with study is starting it, and finishing it. That's my excuse for jumping on the computer now and writing my blog when, in reality, I really should be dealing with Maths, which is currently sitting at the bottom of my Macpac underneath more dirty clothes than any laundromat would ever wish to see.
I guess this brings me to the body of this post. The reason why my Maths project is sitting at the bottom of my pack (competely untouched and undisturbed, might I add) is not exactly total lethargy; and it's certainly through no unfortunate circumstance or mishap. I have just spent an amazing three and a half days down at Lakes Entrance visiting Dad and his wife, Kerrilee, as I try to do whenever I have any sort of break. The difference this time, however, was that this time my adorable little sister Caroline was already up there, and of course that Kim came with me.
This brings me to a slight conundrum for the second time in posting on this website this year; that of what to write, and what to not. I have no issue with making my own private life public, well, to a large extent anyway, but to what degree can I talk about other people? Where do you draw the line between funny and embarassing, where do you draw the line between inquiry and invasion? Where do make the cut between what is wonderful and what is intimate, and above all, how exactly do you make that decision on what is ok to share and what is somebody else's property? My relationships with my family, with Kim and with my friends are a massive part of my life; indeed, they ARE my life, and so to ignore them here and to pretend that I live in a vacuum would be to talk about a mere shadow of who I really am. But to betray everyone else's trust and expose them to the general public (and, believe me, despite what the comments bar may say, this site is read by a LOT of people, so says the hit counter) would be the far greater crime. Inside ourselves we all share secrets both terrible and wonderful, and whether or not we should guard them we still all have the right to do so. So, in this post I will try to protect those about whom I write, and in a way it feels like I have already resigned myself to writing only around a quarter of the experience.
No matter how you get there (unless perhaps you are the owner of either a light aircraft or a jet-assisted human catapault and a desire not to live for very much longer), it's a long way to Lake's Entrance and for us that meant roughly five hours on a combination of train and bus. Things started well when, in an astonishing act of charity, Kim's little sister came into the city to help her onto the platform (though I must admit to a certain level of panic when I saw her on the bus and thought that the whole family had come to see Kim off) and didn't let up for the whole four days. The trip went smoothly (in V-Line speak, this means that the toilets worked and the train went forwards) and by the evening we were busy introducing Kim to the house tucked in amongst the trees on a small dirt road ten minutes from the town centre. She settled into the family like a hand inside a glove and within ten minutes it seemed as though we had been dating for years and that this was far from the first time we'd travelled to Dad's together.
I think, too, that it was a welcome change for Dad and Kerrilee to suddenly have the family around the house swollen from a base of two up to a raucous five. Even I noticed the difference - having normally travelled up there by myself - from three people to five. The house became less of a pair or a trio and more of a community; the laughter, the teasing and above all the sharing was contagious. Even after dinner, myself being a fairly accomplished guitarist and Dad having taken up the blues harmonica, the whole family got together with the African drum in tow and had a bit of a jam together. I don't know if they'd be all that happy to admit it, but I think that having so many people in the house again made it truly come alive. Needless to say, the television was hardly ever on in the evenings. It does help when you're only up there for three nights, though.
At one point in one of these evenings, mostly after my irritating insistence and constant nagging, Kim pulled out her piano books to play to the family just before we were ready to cook dinner. To those of you who have never heard her play (and this is just a guess, but I think it will be most of you), you would be told by her, in a tone split between modesty and embarassment, that she can play not too badly. Let me set the record straight. The woman plays the piano like she sold her soul to the devil at the crossroads for it. She quietly, almost invisibly opened her book to the most impressive piece in her repetoire and shifted into another world at the piano stool. Caroline, standing at the kitchen bench, froze with her spoon midway to the bowl, pointed to the piano and silently mouthed "What the HELL?!?" to me with eyes wide open. Kerrilee and Dad walked in slack-jawed when Kerrilee delivered possibly the best line of the whole four days; "How many f*cking notes are there on that page?!!?".
This wasn't the first time that Kim would pop up and surprise the family. She later assumed the title of official Yahtzee Queen of the House as well as its resident piano genuis. Matters came to a head over a particular in-family card game called May-I? (suggested subtitle: "No, f*ck off, it's mine!"). This game could possibly cause family breakup if used in the correct circumstances. Dad and I were locked in a fierce battle to beat the other, having both assumed an early lead over the other two, and, wouldn't you know it, Kim strolls in to take the plaudits as the two boys cut off their noses to spite their faces, beating me by a mere six points. I think Dad was particularly impressed by that as there's nothing that satisfies him more than me not winning at that game.
Later on in the stay, Dad took the day off work and we all went into Lakes itself for the day whilst Kerrilee was stuck at work. We decided that the best way to create a bit of family friction was a round of minigolf, just to get the competitive juices flowing. We teed off, as is polite, in order from youngest to oldest, and as Caroline was ready to putt I turned to Dad and said, "Isn't it always tempting to just try and spank these things out of sight?". "Don't speak too soon", replied Dad, and no sooner had he finished saying this than Caroline, failing to understand the finer nuances of the word SUBTLETY, had taken a gigantic WHACK! and firmly planted the little yellow ball in the garden lining the back fence. We retrieved the ball for her and decided, for her second attempt, to stand backwards of the tee, a move which proved equally hazardous when her second shot was cracked straight into the wall and bounced equally straight back at us. Her third shot stayed on the course as it hit the barrier at the end, and, wouldn't you believe it, slowly rolled straight back to the club head at her feet. Over the course, she managed to hit poor Kim in the midriff, another lady in the ankle, and gave us heart flutters when we saw that perennial family with small children who seem ever-present in dangerous situations in Caroline's flight path. On top of that, she also knocked in three holes-in-one but of course took them all on the second shot after she had routinely sent her first to all corners of the course. I eventually beat Dad by a stroke in a nail-biting finish.
There was so much more than happened, and so much more that I cannot say. Those few days meant a lot to me; they highlighted how much damn work my Mum does as a single mother, for a start. They highlighted how much I love both my parents, and also my relationship with Kerrilee too, though that's really a friendship rather than anything parent-related, and much the better for it. It is a shame that there is five hours between Melbourne and Dad's house, but that is the way that it had to be at the time. It was also wonderful to spend some time up there with Caroline as well; something that I haven't done for well and truly over a year. I haven't been able to say this for all my life - indeed, in retrospect, as a kid I think I quite resented her in a way - but I adore her to pieces for the mature, thoughtful and loving little sister that she is. You know, for so many years I wanted to be a role model to her, a guiding hand if you will, and only in the last few years have I discovered how to become one by not trying to be one. Strange how life works like that.
But, in the end, this trip was mostly about me and Kim, and that was without doubt the best part of the whole stay. It was wonderful to finally get some decent, private time together, not just two hours grabbed after Uni before work, and not necessarily with either family, just genuine 'us' time, and it was magical. Our relationship moves from strength to strength and I am riding a cresting wave; I fly through the water wondering where the journey goes next. In all truth, as I write this, I miss her. I miss not being able to walk up the stairs and see her sitting there, in the living room, smiling at me. I hope she doesn't mind me writing that, as it is about me.
As for the rest of the trip? It was about us; the two of us, the three of us and the five of us. It was the best trip that I have ever had up to Lakes and that is entirely down to two of my favourite women in the world, my sister and my girlfriend. And for that, I thank them both.
jez.
Having a wonderful break...finally settling down to study. The weather has just been too amazing to stay indoors. I have been busy to say the least though...things are great. I just have SO MUCH WORK! Not only uni commitements but my Mentor has given me some more work to do with his latest business venture to keep me on my toes!
There is so much else I could say, but the point of my blog today is to discuss a slightly unusual thing that happened to me today. It left me a bit un-settled in the sense that I didn't quite know how to deal with it.
Let me just put the situation forward to you. Now there is this person...and I am acquainted with them via a group assignment which we are currently working on with a few other people. Now this person up to this point seemed very nice, hard-working and intelligent...I had no fear of working with them because I believed they would not screw it up, in fact, I thought their presence on the assignment was a good thing and that they would contribute a lot.
So far so good,
However today...
Randomly out of the blue this afternoon, I receive a text message from this person....asking if I could 'email' them my copy of an assignment (from another subject that is due in about 1.5 weeks) so they could look at it because they are "confused"....
Now I have no problem with talking things over with people. I probably should talk things over more with people as it is...but traditionally by nature, I am a person who likes to work alone and if group work is neccessary, only with people I can trust and believe in.
Now having someone blatently ask to 'look' at the assignment I put hours of hard work into...really rubbed me up the wrong way and has made me feel very uncomfortable in my attitude towards this individual.
I haven't replied to her text message because in all honestly I don't know what to say...but one thing is for sure - I am not comfortable about giving her my assignment.
For all I know she could copy it and I could be accused of plagerism (it happened to someone I know)....plus the main thing is that I just don't KNOW her....I don't know her motives or her intentions.
I may seem cruel and cynical to those reading this, but as someone who hopes I am not as naive as I may look....I relate to past experiences where people have tried to take advantage of my good faith (I went to one of the most competitive schools in the state and am well aware that Uni is just as competitive).
Still,
I wonder - what would other people do in such a situation? (Remember this assignment is worth a lot of marks and you have slaved away for hours on it alone with NO help).
-Sophie
I'm not the least surprised that I didn't keep my promise to consistently write on this journal throughout this semester. Actually, truth be told, I was betting against myself and have since donated the winnings to the Breaking Chris out of Lethargy Foundation. I have a feeling they will soon be disbanding due to a lack of morale or alternatively hold a nationally broadcast telethon in desperation. I hope that there's some kind of breakthrough soon, as this semester is far coming to a close and I've got twelve assignments due over the next six weeks. I'm pretty tempted to just sleep all the way through it.
Not too much news to report. Have been doing lots of work of the drinking and partying kind, but not much of the study or earning money kind. Myer cut down my shifts pretty significantly over the last two weeks, but now in the holidays they've decided to give me more than twenty hours again. Bastards. Just when I need time to finish assignments and all. I've really enjoyed my subjects this semester but the workload is massive towards the end for me. Because I don't do exams, all of my major assessments are lumped at the end of semester, and I always take the workload too lightly in the beginning! Lovely study habits I have developed, innit? Anyway I need to work hard cause otherwise the average I got in first semester will disintegrate into a puff of smoke and my transfer will go down the drain. In news which is sure to shock and sadden all of Victoria, I am also applying for Law at some NSW institutions. Come January, if Melbourne decides I'm not good enough to study there, then there's a chance I may be heading back to Sydney.
On the writing front, a short play of mine has been shortlisted for the Short and Sweet festival at the Arts Centre. If it gets performed, you all have to come and vote for it! I could win a couple of grand, which would be excellent. Money is always nice. I might even decide to spend some of it on myself. It's a dodgy little play about nothing with no characters, but hopefully it will strike a chord with the audience, despite its horribly bleak content and poor dialogue. Farrago writing is still going strong, and hopefully I will be an Arts Sub-Editor on the Farrago 2007 team. Who knows, I may even want to go for Editor in 08!
Anyway, if I can think of anything else interesting to write I'll be back. Otherwise I'll leave you all to read the inherently more interesting articles of my fellow bloggers. Enjoy the break y'all.
Maybe I don't really want to know
How your garden grows
I just want to fly
Lately did you ever feel the pain
In the morning rain
As it soaks it to the bone
Maybe I just want to fly
I want to live I don't want to die
Maybe I just want to breathe
Maybe I just don't believe
Maybe you're the same as me
We see things they'll never see
You and I are gonna live forever
Maybe I don't really want to know
How your garden grows
I just want to fly
Lately did you ever feel the pain
In the morning rain
As it soaks it to the bone
Maybe I will never be
All the things that I want to be
But now is not the time to cry
Now's the time to find out why
I think you're the same as me
We see things they'll never see
You and I are gonna live forever
We're gonna live forever
Gonna live forever
Live forever
Forever...
For the second time in as many weeks, I have managed to ruin my hair completely. Not good.
As a bit of background information, I previously had untouched hair. My natural colour was a sort of medium brown with natural red and golden glints and undertones. Auburn, I suppose. Lots of people complimented me on it, and my Mum always told me how lucky I was to have naturally streaky hair that turned blonder in the summer. But I decided to dye it anyway.
First time was to go blonde. Not white blonde or cheap blonde, just a nice golden blonde (see picture).
PXW was oh-so-subtly hoping that I'd dye my hair red, to be wild, but I was insistent on going blonde. Unfortunately, fate seemed to be on his side - I ended up with bright golden red hair with even brighter streaks. Very scary... unfortunately the Anything Goes costumes ladies told me that I'd have to go another colour.
So the process began again. My Mum decided dark dark dark brown might be the way to go, so I went for it. PXW was again trying to twist my decision, hoping for black hair. I decided that would be too radical and verging on gothic, so declined. But what happened to my hair a couple of hours later? It was BLACK! Argh!
I have very pale skin, so yes, I now do look gothic. In the last couple of hours I have had people say I looked like Wednesday Addams and Morticia Addams, as well as Cleopatra (I didn't mind this one so much!). But woe is me.. the perils of hair dye. I'm just hoping that it will fade a little and actually be dark brown, rather than jet black with a hint of red as it is now.
And now for a little audience participation - 3 questions!
a) Have you ever dyed your hair? If so, what colours?
b) What is your worst hair disaster?
c) When was your best hair day ever?
Have fun..
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