Today on my way home from a friends place I had a brilliant idea to take a different route. Whoops. It may have been shorter, but it took longer and was windier, narrower and scary then I expected. It was also dusk to dark and while driving by a full moon through forests and rolling hills might seem kind of cool; trust me; it wasn’t. But it’s kind of rewarding to have done it. Even if it was kind of silly. Two roads diverged in the woods and I took the one less travelled. Want to know maybe why there’s no popular poem that goes, two roads diverged in the woods and I took the one most travelled? Because he didn’t need to justify his excursion it was easy and fast and he got to where he wanted to be without needing to mediate on the journey. A good experience for driving, but probably bad for life. (I went on the about half of this

On Saturday I went with the family to,_Victoria Good times. I’ve added some pictures of the day.




I keep thinking about my hair. It seems like it is thinning around the temples and I’m only 22. No one else has noticed it yet, but there always seems to be strands of hair falling out here and there. My grandpa had lost most of his hair by the time he was 26 and my uncle/cousin on the other side were also heading towards bald on their way to 25. I know it’s not that bad; but it feels like it.


When I’m looking in the mirror I notice it and when I’m not I still occasionally think about it and it gets me down. Like what I wrote last time I know it’s irrational to an extent. But ‘I’ feel like it’s unfair. Why should I lose my hair? My body has too much hair on it and yet I’m losing it on my head. Then the question is, why do I have so much invested in my hair? Lots of people lose their hair, some earlier then 22. (I can remember a guy at high school whose hair was going when he was in year 12).


Tonight I found out my dad has diabetes, which he got because he inherited.  He eats and exercises so he is pretty healthy. My Mum’s mum has diabetes as well, so that seems like another thing I’m destined to inherit. Ugh.


Just so my return to xanga isn’t all negative (post below). The other night I was chatting with a couple of friends on MSN. It was great; just being silly and having some laughs. Friends rock.


I feel bitter. Not Obama
bitter. Just bitter. I feel silly writing this because why should I? And the
things that make me feel this way are partly my fault anyway.

My job makes me bitter.
There’s so much junk to do and very little real journalism. I probably spend
four days a week, sometimes more, not doing news. There’s the real estate
section with property profiles, farming that is basically done in a rush and is
processing dull stories, plenty of advertorials about businesses or related to
a business, updating the net site, vox pops on the street, calling police for
crime reports, organising the event diary and taking photos of mundane things. I
want to advance and achieve and I feel like these things get in the way of
that. Sometimes I am excited about a story, but there is a lot of much to wade
through before I get to doing it.

My editor annoys me because he
is a relaxed kind of person and I guess I feel like he doesn’t care due to
this. For example today he had moved a fuel card out of one work car and put it
in his new one, but not done anything about getting a new one. So I pull up at
the service station and can’t get fuel when I’m supposed to be the way to an
event. That’s minor and only a slight inconvenience, but they pile up over the week
or days. A month or so ago I was asking him a work-related question. I knew he
would find it slightly inappropriate, though it was a genuine inquiry about a
relevant issue, but he’s the boss so there’s no one else to ask. And then he
goes off at me for ages, “get your head out of your arse”, “you’re the most
negative person, you’re always looking for the bad in stuff” and on and on. I
didn’t think his comments were fair, because he is the boss so if I have a
problem I have to ask him and therefore it is a negative question. The other
thing is that he is in another part of the office so when I talk to him, I have
to walk to him, so I don’t usually go there just to make a positive comment,
but when I have to ask him something I have to ask him something. For example
every month or so I have to work a Saturday and take photos. The person who organises
the list’s relationship to reality appears to be tenuous at times. How shall I
take 8 sports photos in 15 allotted minutes? How am I meant to get shots of
people when they are listening to speaker for an hour? So I have to talk to the
editor about fixing it up and it is usually a negative conversation. “This isn’t
going to work; what do you want to change?” It would be easier if he went
through it first, but he is not a fan of responsibility. At the same time I
like him; he is a warm, chatty, engaging person, but professionally he, on
certain days, frustrates me.

Job wise I know I’m there, because
I choose to be there. I could quit tomorrow if I wanted to. And I am working
towards moving on. Also I am the employee; I do what I’m told, not what I want.
But I’m worried I’ll go to another job; I’ll just find new things to be bitter
about. I tell myself that my work-related bitterness is irrational; because it
is. Again it’s my choice to be here; I could quit tomorrow. When I tell myself
it’s irrational it doesn’t fix it. Even though I am the employee; I do what I’m

All up what I know and what I
feel are different.