I thought it was about time to tell everyone what I’ve been up to for the past two weeks but before that I think you should all look at the Queensland Shakespeare’s Ensemble’s website. They seemed to have enjoyed my review so much they decided to put it up on their website. My first quote; Bu ya!

http://www.australianstage.com.au/component/option,com_events/Itemid,20/agid,6016/catids,76/day,31/month,10/task,view_detail/year,2009/

http://www.qldshakespeare.org/asyoulikeit.html

After recovering from graduation my dad and I hightailed it back to Melbourne Saturday night somewhat dazed and confused. Touching down I felt a stream of endorphins run through my body as the cool fresh wind blasted me and the thought of Home running though my head.

It wasn’t long before I was back in the usual haunts and needless to say Public Bar’s Monday night $1 pots was somewhere between epic and legendary. What followed for the rest of the week were days of trying to remember what I had done the night before and nights of forgetting what I had done that day.

This second week has been a bit more productive; chasing down jobs and sending out applications. Trying to get a hold of the Beat magazine editor has been a challenge but this Thusday I’m going to a Melbourne talent managers meet and greet where I should be able to corner him.

I’ve also applied for a volunteer position at the SYN youth radio station organising interviews for local bands. Good experience and I’ll get paid in free CD’s and tickets that I can review and hopefully sell to the street press.

As far as everything else goes life is just going on as usual. I just discovered The Wire which seems to be sucking away my time.

Grand Final day on the Tiwi Islands and the mercury is above 35. The locals are out in force displaying mostly red, white and black colours but there’s a few with blue and white. Passionate about their football the Tiwi islanders became a little famous this year after an ABC documentary on their local team the Bombers being accepted into the Northern Territory’s football league.

So where are the Tiwi Islands? Just on top of Darwin a 20 minute plane trip or a two-hour ferry ride from will get you there. The islands are made up of Melville and Bathurst Island, the latter of which we were staying on. The islands look perfect from the sky with their ideal beaches and dense scrubland but you’ll never see anyone swimming at those beaches unless they want to go toe-to-toe with a four-metre-long saltwater crocodile.

The islands are made up predominately of Indigenous people and being there was like being in a completely different country. We were there to visit my brother who teaches sports and English at the Xavier Catholic High School. As he was showing us around the island I could hear 10CC’s ‘Dreadlock Holiday’ pumping out of someone’s speaker and just then I was struck by the island’s familiarity and distance to my world.

Before the walk my brother pointed out a stick at his front door telling us if we ever walked around at night we would have to take it with us. When I asked why he explained if we were ever attacked by the packs of stray dogs roaming the island we could use it to defend ourselves. Thankfully we never had to use it.

Walking down the street my brother also pointed spikes on the telephone poles and asked us what we thought they were there for. Innocently I said to keep animals from frying themselves and casually my brother replied, “Nahh, it’s to stop people hanging themselves.” A little shocking to say the least but still a bit more shocked and how casual he was about it. I guess it goes to show how a person can adapt to anything.

The Tiwi people were kind, easygoing and friendly, just like anybody else. I guess you grow up with preconceptions of different cultures and I’m always stunned to find that inherently all people are the same. Although my brother told me it’s near to impossible to organise anything with because they all just live in the moment. Without a care in the world they just go through life seemingly content to stay where they are and just do whatever they do.

We watched Blood Diamond one night; the Leonardo DiCaprio film about the illegal diamond trade in Africa. In one scene DiCaprio goes through all the horrible things happening over and over again in Africa and at the end of his speech brushes it off and when asked why just replies “TIA, This is Africa.” My brother remarked TIT pretty much sums up the other worldly nature of islands as well.

The western culture clash could be pretty amusing at times as well. One of the highlights of my trip was seeing a teenage islander in an Exploited singlet with ‘Punk’s Not Dead’ on the back. How any subculture could exist on this remote island amazed me but just goes to show how music has no boundaries.

On the morning of the Grand Final through some miracle my brother had organised the groundskeeper Hadley to take us out fishing on his boat. Before the trip we had to take namely getting a fuel tank, getting fuel and getting ice. These tasks required us driving around the town stopping at numerous houses and with almost every stop gaining a new member. By the time we were in the boat our group of four had grown to seven including a small girl who I was told was the niece of his sister’s cousin… Or cousin’s sister… Or sister of his niece…

The trip was a success and we decided to leave and get ready for the Grand Final after feeling an esky with fish. I put the success down to the Tiwi Island fishing method of leaving a spot if you don’t get a bite in a minute. It sure beats the whitefella way of just sitting there for two hours waiting for your first bite and drinking yourself stupid.

There is a fair bit more to the place but I thought I might placate John with this and get down to all the other things that need doing.

Scratch that. Not being able to come up with a good idea is a major hassle.

Everything I follow up just doesn’t seem to go anywhere. I’m starting to think I’m cursed.

Although bylines aren’t coming thick and fast I am learning a lot. Mostly about what I want to do with journalism with freelancing looking more and more attractive. I don’t think the cubicle is for me and the constant click-clacking of keyboards, while at first was somewhat conforting in a strange way, is now driving me crazy.

Today’s press conference for Diebetes Australia was pretty good. Turns out my hometown is one of the fastest growing LGAs for Type 2 diebetes sufferers.

Two have fallen through so that’s leaves one which is being held up by PR people. Hopefully I can make it through their barrier and get the gold.

Got an interesting talk from the CoS about how to lay out a newspaper; mixing it up the content especially with a Sunday paper that most people just want to relax with.

Looking for strange and intriguing stories but not much luck.

Think I might just concentrate on this one story and get it in.

R.

Tuesday is the start of the working week for the crew at the Sunday Herald Sun and it was to see a massive turnout.

It wasn’t till about two in the afternoon that the room started to fill and the eager click-clacking of keyboards was heard all around.

Got to pitch a few stories to the CoS and I’m following them up although I’m not sure how they will go.

All depends on my interviewing skills and what I can get them to say.

R.

The subject: “Wankiest suburb in Melbourne”

The mission: Get seven responses each in St Kilda during the middle of the day when there’s no-one around and it’s raining in the 20 minutes before deadline.

From my previous experience of vox pops I knew I wasn’t great at them. Maybe it was shabby appearence and aggressive nature or perhaps my musk. There was really no way to tell but this time I was armed with a damn fine haircut (cut by an ex-Iranian soldier who I was tempted to call Zohan), a snappy suit (all quality op-shop) and the determination of a lemming to confirm.

But alas my first attempts were a complete failure and I went back to the other reporter to see how she was doing. She had already got two and didn’t seem too happy with my inability to complete this obviously simple task.

With a few tips I was on my way and after asking about 50 people I got my seven responses and was informed the editor had decided to promote the vox pop to a full story. So we filed by phone about 10 minutes before deadline and made it into today’s edition.

On my lunch break, Mx was being put out at Flinders Street and flipping through found my byline. I let out a rather audible “woop woop”, copping a few odd looks from passers-by but not caring all that much.

Sunday Herald Sun tomorrow. Should be a different pace considering their deadline is Saturday.

A few things I figured out from today’s vox popping.

1) “The two metre rule”: Two metres is all you have to reel a person in so you have to speak quickly. Don’t bother with “excuse me’s” and “sorry’s” for people walking quick because as soon as they get past that two metre limit, it’s all over baby.

2) People working in cafes were always good, not one of them turned me down. Anything that breaks the monotony of a slow day.

3) Don’t underestimate any job because it could turn into something bigger.

Rock on

R.

Bush crash? Desley could teach them a thing or two.

As I think everyone already knows Brett is heading to South Australia to head the Naracourt(?) newspaper’s sports section.

It will take some time to fill the gap he will leave but I’m sure if we can find a burping monkey who is partial to Wini Blues and beer, the hole should be filled nicely.

Sam (my friend) is travelling two hours a day to and from uni to attend confusing lectures with people who barely talk to him. Comparing this to our three-day week, barbeques and excursions to plays and the opera and it sounds like I’m in heaven.  I thought my girlfriend’s foray into a hospitality course was easy; they had two classes dedicated to drinking and the teacher would habitually turn up drunk.

University sounds crap to be blunt and the friendships that are developing look to stand the test of time.

What other class room could you find Finnish fashion lover, a self obsessed 19-year-old (not Stevie), a Japanese teacher, a Napalese freedom fighter and a mysterious man who has story for every event.