Gasping for Breath; for Top Marks

Breathing metaphorically, I feel as though my mind palace is shoved full of things, half squished and cramped up to fit, so that each individual idea is bent beyond recognition. Like so much useless chatter I feel word after word get stuck between my ears in an opaque mess of thought. Question marks, black and red, are scrawled in front of me, hanging from every neuron, so that when I sit at a desk I cannot even see the board in front of me though I push my glasses higher.

Where before I struggled to find something I couldn't ace; these past weeks I just don't know. I can't recall what I know, I’ve forgotten what I’m supposed to know and I have no idea what I don't know. Knowledge flees from me as from a burning building. I stare agape as the numbers peel from the page and jig before me in a parody of my dreams.

No sooner have I half figured out a concept, barely had the breath to ask why!?- than the next giant theory is upon me, with half grasped rules. Finish this, finish that, you've got homework to do if you don't. They pile up so that my future is booked to the moon with the things I should have done yesterday. I can barely unstick my mind from its present hurried task to contemplate finding real understanding by revision and study.

If only I had a pet dragon to yell out, "I don't understand!" in order to slow the runaway train that is our maths lessons.

The class' understanding is reminiscent already of the train wreck that our exams will surely be. Our blood will run like sweat as we hunch nervous over the paper and strings of invisible algebra will drift over the hall like motes of dust in the sunlight, called pi, Greek, xylophone and Euler. Stares will blankly examine the log that is now a table before the clocks flies to 2. Mark my numbers this is a torturous blind fold of confusion soaked in chloroform.

Save me before I drown.

A Movie of Bones

We watched the City of Bones as a family and I talked so much that mum was seriously contemplating gagging me. Many things were wrong with it, I can barely list them all but here's the first:

1. Valentine should have blonde hair

I saw one of those cute photos of Valentines circle released pre-movie and groaned as I worked out that they already had it all wrong.  You know the stereotypical dark-haired psychopath on the right?  He's supposed to have hair so blonde its silver.

Thus I didn't have high expectations for this movie. I've already seen plenty of examples of beautiful books having their storylines shredded into irretrievable pieces (Eragon) but even the beginning had me riled.

After reading reviews on rotten tomatoes averaging 12% I saw how the opening scene immediately put everyone to sleep. Its so sad considering the book started inside the night club Pandemonium and in the first few pages already invisible people were stabbing a demon which then disappeared into thin air. Whoever wrote this script didn't want to "trust the intelligence of the audience" and instead tried to tell us everything we needed to know about Clary's mundane life in the first five minutes. In my opinion the audience needn't know any more than Clary does.

Hear this movie producers…

…

Its called suspense.

And then she goes to an awful poetry reading for no other apparent purpose but to show that Simon has feelings for her that she doesn't return. As if the audience hasn't already caught onto that… Clary: "He's not my boyfriend" Jace: "Does he know that?" Her mum happens to bring it up as well...

Personally I prefer  the amusing and yet elusive quotes that the book gave us "I was laughing because declarations of love amuse me, especially when unrequited… And because your friend Simon is one of the most mundane mundanes I've ever encountered." As Jace so eloquently puts it.

You see that movie producers… It's called subtlety.

But instead you've chosen here to hit us in the head with your movie like the shovel that Simon inexplicably pulled from behind a gate in your movie.

Well I've raved madly about the beginning now here's the next top ten things that irked me about this movie.

1. It would be nice if people who are supposed to be New Yorkians (Jace and Jocelyn) didn't speak in an english accent: it doesn't make sense. Luckily enough- with my knowledge of the books I rationalised that they merely had the accent of Idris (though Idris is somwhere in the middle of Europe so a Swiss accent may have made more sense){not that I don't appreciate British accents of course but CONTEXT!}

2. Oh yeah and that brings me back to the start of the movie- Clary, who has lived in New York all her life somehow cannot manage to run along a footpath with one person riding a bike on it without running into them. And then she runs into two cars o.O. This girl is supposed to be pure blood shadow hunter (i.e. she has better strength and agility than normal and did I mention she has lived in Brooklyn her entire life?)

3. There is no portal at the institute. For those who care, in the books there are two types of portals: magic users (like Mangus Bane the warlock)can make temporary ones or otherwise you use a fixed portal. There are two of these that we know of: In the witches house underneath Clary's apartment and Valentine's mirror which works as a portal to Idris. In the first book both of these are used but does the institute have a portal? Nuh-uh :\

4. Portals are not made of some substance that you can take out and then stroke or punch people through. Maybe I would have forgiven #3 if they didn't break the rules for no apparent reason.

5. Valentines associates, Blackwell and whatever-his-name-is, turn up way too much and are supposed to be wearing weird robes.

6. The fight scenes were

• Too dark

• Too disjointed with too many characters

• Too long

In the vampire fights scene at Hotel DuMort, for example. (though the entire scene may have been skipped considering their lead up was terrible) Firstly they were running around a hotel full of vampires and all I could see were flashes of light and darkness. That ISN'T suspenseful, its just annoying.

Secondly of course it was too confusing for only Jace and Clary to go in alone (as our original author Ms Clare wrote) so instead we'll send them all in and have a fight scene that flicks through confusing close ups across twenty characters. I suppose it gave the boys in the audience their fight scenes and yet it went on too long. Having read the book I just ended up saying "hurry up and cue werewolves, get me outta this hotel".

7. Demons cannot enter the grounds of the institute. The whole point is that the institutes are built on holy ground- even vampires cannot enter them. Even the characters in the movie state this.

8. Valentine wasn't even supposed to summon any demons- he made Forsaken, humans given shadow hunter runes to drive them crazy. These were supposed to fight the werewolves in the end. Of course I do realise that introducing this new species might be a little too much for this movie, what with vampires, werewolves and demons...

9. The final battle should NOT have been at the institute, thus #7 could be fixed. It was at a mansion on an island in the middle of the river. Also Isabelle and Simon were not present and thus most terrible parts of the fight scenes #6 could have been fixed- eliminating the excess characters from ridiculous plot ties. But you know we've seen this annoying plot simplification in Tomorrow when the war began too.

10. Pure blood shadowhunters(such as Clary because her mum and dad were both shadowhunters) do not need to drink from the mortal cup. The cup turns HUMANS into shadowhunters. If Clary is already a shadowhunter why is Valentine (who is her dad and should know this) trying to make her drink from it?

So there are hundreds of deviations and logic defying details in this movie which infuriate those who have read and understand the books. It feels as though the rules of the world have been broken irreparably and everyone knows that supernatural things need to have rules and limits or it just defies all logic (don't even get me started on the logic of twilight).

But hey, the books DO make sense and I only love them more because I know that they must be perfect the way they are.

    

On the way to the Queen's Land

After feeling so sick the previous day I woke at 4am for some reason to travel to Queensland to wander aimlessly around Universities.  I still don't understand how I managed but at about 8am (NSW time) I wrote this:

To be honest I'm just glad to be travelling.  The bus is surprisingly quiet (mostly everyone's asleep) and it is sorta relaxing.  I have almost slept, that being I pretended to be asleep but couldn't be sure if it actually caught up with me, until Woodburn(two hours north). I'm awaiting the famed (well in my head it is) corner down to the Byron valley (so pretty!)

And this, wondering about the 1 hour time difference between the two states for 6 months of the year:

Who says we haven't invented time machines yet? They're all over the world and their called time zones.  It feels like there should be a shimmering barrier between New  South Wales and Queensland. Perhaps we'll see it when we reach Tweed Heads. 

Perhaps I only survived because of my favourite hill:

The Border Ranges, faint like they're painted upon the sky.  Mount Warning a crooked, watchful figure.  The hills below the darker green of a scrub far, far away .  Like some idyllic pastoral scene the hills roll in green to a single field that pools below the curving highway.  The polka dots upon the mountain's skirts reveal themselves as hamlets, trees and homesteads. 

The colour, the mist, the view!

The land is expansive and enormous and yet it clusters close in this glimpse. The hills gather in a feeling of rising; the meaning of contour is clear.  From the top of the hill, cut into pieces by tree trunks the valleys are sleeping, stretched out beneath you and then in the curve of a parabola the ground floats higher to the edge of the world. 

To the east the sea is a foam mat of blurry turquoise and as the bus glides around the corner the rolling hills reveal another perspective.  Like a carpet it rolls out in front of me, thickening as it draws away. 

It is that corner and the glimpse of field and valley, hill and spur, mountain and ocean that enchants each time I pass it.  Such a snapshot of beauty that every time a new aspect comes to light.  Is it the ancient growl of the mountains in their volcano crater, the sparkling of the bay sides or perhaps just the height and depth of the curve as it pulls you in?

Remembering the Zombie Apocalypse

Stopping at McDonald's Grafton under a sky that looked as though it had taken a king hit one day reminded me of another in which we'd wandered under this rail bridge and into the popular car trip rest stop.

That day the sky had been hitting us with serious cancerous rays. It resembled being in a desert as some days in Grafton do. We been taken, in a rusted old van and blindfolded, to a distant edge of the Jacaranda City. There were six of us and most I vaguely knew. Keeping our eyes peeled for zombies we shuffled, laden with hiking packs, through the suburbs. Sweat clustered in my hair under my hat while I straightened the matching headband.

We scrutinised the gravestones of the local cemetery and unafraid of zombies (who we knew were completing their HSC) we dumped out packs in shopping trolleys to enter the busy intersections looking undead ourselves. I was glad at the information centre, breathing in the air conditioning as we found out how long their video ran for. At the near deserted train station we clapped our companions on the back, astonished at their survival in the boiling toffee of the air of the air.

The bridge was a real horror movie set. A hundred years old it hung in rusted folds over the swollen river. The train tracks rattled to our left even without a train and above the cars inched along like us. We dragged ourselves to a cute vintage red phone box and rang it only to find we'd forgotten the Baptist church. Apparently their opening times were important and we emerged on the hardest journey of all.

Water had evaporated right out of our bottles and we hadn't eaten since breakfast: it was already 2. With our trolleys abandoned only determination dragged us back along the main drag and to the river front.

Finally we were supplied with food and water and had two sick and heat exhausted venturers to coddle. But we prevailed, building a raft from two canoes and two poles. Once more we crossed the expansive river to arrive at Susan Island.

Apparently zombies had crossed this fast flowing water and arrived ahead of us on the island. Because zombies cross water all the time (they hate water). Regardless we had to build a tree fort to hide from them when they would inevitably swarm us tonight. I was glad we didn't actually have to sleep there. We were saved so that we could trek through a darkening forest probably inhabited by Slender man. I'm sure our spooky stories just egged him on.

On the way back down the 4km k island we didn't need torches however because we were far too enthralled by dancing fireflies. Oblivious of our tiredness they were joyful. They were bright sparks in the welcome cool of night.  By this time (probably 7:30) we looked forward to dinner.

And we got it:
1 cup tiny dry pasta
1 tablespoon "surprize" dried peas
1 cup-a-soup packet
1 can of tuna (and twiggy sticks for everyone else)

That's right, Venturer scouts can cook their own meals, especially when camping on an island (apparently swarming with zombies).  The hike-style main meal was made up for when our group (red) was presented with dessert.  Tinned fruit and custard, mmhhmm.  

We all went to bed in our sleeping bags happy, still ignorant of any actual zombie attacks. 

Day 1 of the Inititave Course had passed for 32 Venturer Scouts on Susan Island.   Missing, Assumed Dead. 

Rainy Volleyball

Beach Volleyball   

So you'd be thinking of a sunny summer day, skies painted bright. Perhaps you'd even picture bikinis in every rainbow colour against the sand. Well you can forget about bikinis first of all because this is CHS(Country High Schools) beach volleyball. In our case we had collared (what?) singlets with vertical stripes of gold(yellow), white and green(bottle).

Waking before 5 thirty in the morning, when any respectful teen should be asleep, we headed north for Byron Bay. After a dramatic thunderstorm stomped through yesterday there were still drizzles and clouds hanging about during our three hour drive. The ranting within the car kept me faintly amused.

Of course entering Byron its pouring, though all the tiny shops still looked cheerful and closed. At first optimism serves the four of us from Orara and we all huddle under umbrellas and picnic shelters. Maybe its on, maybe its off, maybe we'll go and play indoor. We're not real happy either way.

Our teacher comes to tell us the day is going ahead, "You're on."

So of course one of my team mates replies, "And you're off." in exasperation. It truly is appalling weather for sunny beach volleyball.

Running out onto the beach in bare feet, singlets and shorts we shivered. The wind gusted off the sea, brutal and laced with icy drops. The sea melded with the sky at the horizon, bleak and unwelcoming. We immediately ran back up to the park to shelter under the trees. Eventually I gave up hiding from the very sky and started hitting the balls around. I thought, that's it weather- I don't even care.

Then they called it off, we were heading to Evan's Head to play indoors. Wait that is anyone who actually had to travel; Alstonville and Ballina (with the shortest drives), decided to just head home. Well kitted out for BEACH volleyball, Emma and Ruby, needed some shoes so we cruised around Byron looking for some. In woolies we find out that (of course) people from Byron Bay don't wear shoes so we head for the next closest- Ballina.  

By the time we got to the indoor courts (12 o'clock) it was as sunny as the sunshine sugar logo. We played two and a half muck around games against Wauchope then Evans Head and then the Wauchope junior boys. Ruby and I got in a few awesome blocks against the boys who looked sheepish whenever we won a point. All of us exploded into uncontrollable laughter for half a set and twice I got lucky, chucking my arms in the air at impossible shots and won the point. Crazy Fun.

Leaving at 2 I called the trip not an entire bust but what I would like to know is this: Out of the entire North Coast Region (about Wauchope to Queensland) why was this tournament held at Byron Bay? Almost the northern-most point. It meant that Wauchope had to travel six hours in a bus for a rain drenched fail. I know its lucky that we live in the middle of the region, but out in the regional areas why make students and teachers travel even more ridiculous distances than they already have to?

More opportunities, less travel.

Dragonskin: City Rail to Campbelltown

Besides only just catching the 8:03 train we were excited. Between Central and Campbelltown there was about an hour to kill.

On the third carriage and just before Strathfield I submit to being tagged with sharpies in bemusement. VIRGIN in capital letters is written by the girl with a shaved head and SLUT on her arm. My companions also get SLUT and it seems that a tagging frenzy has begun. I become a member of Hayden's army in open rebellion against Flynn's forces. Several others see our uniforms and leave their marks on our arms.

The city rail is clogged with us all in matching shirts, clots of hiking packs lounging across double seats. Anticipation hums beneath the surface and mingles with the efficient static of the train like a badly kept secret .

We see scarves of many colours on our journey down the train. They all bear the purple script saying "Maddie xx" down their arms and we're searching for this mystery girl who could complete our team. Pushing through the narrow doors my sleeping roll gets stuck again and again then finally releases me into the shifty ledges between cars. At stations we play leapfrog, rushing from one carriage to the next in a search that seems fruitless once we reach the first carriage. Is this some elaborate hoax?

Finally back on the third carriage we find her- not exactly what I was expecting. The script and her movement down the train had put in my mind the image of a small, lithe girl terribly excited, enthusiastic, entirely sociable. Instead we introduce ourselves to a farm-girl, heavy set with similar thick-necked companions. But here we have it-the completion of our half-abandoned team. Sure enough we're in, its done and my two friends lose their interest.

They slouch so much like gear, no doubt worn out from a sleepless night upon our other train; oh well, they're sluts and have been this way before. But me-m I can't stop looking at that first word on my arm and am filled with buzz; I can't sit still. Out of my pack I pull a precious, terrible prize. Fire-engine red its an amazing opportunity- to meet new people as a scrawl my name across their skin.

Dragonskin: 4 days, a 1 000 teenagers, one forest. Can't wait for next year- a birthday, easter and Dragonskin all at once :D  

the Challenges: great and small

My name is Sarah HP and I’m a Venturer Scout which means I have special abilities.

They’re supposed to be secret but, I think I can trust you.

I can leap off cliffs and survive. Just Imagine it for a second… You are teetering on the edge of a precipice. So high that below you the people are like ants. Your heart pounds, your knees shake, your hands clench and you lean back…

Over the edge you’re just… floating. You can see the rope that holds you as you safely abseil down the rock face.

That’s my real secret: I’ve learnt how to abseil.

Thanks to scouts and school excursions I’ve have the opportunity to do things that are a little wacky, but also fantastically fun!

Thus last holidays I led a four day hike over more than 70km along the Great North Walk. We started along the picturesque Hawkesbury River and pretty soon figured out it was harder than we’d thought.

It was the five of us against nature. Joe, Eli, Lachlan, Stephany and I all teenage venturer scouts ready to face this adventure. So hard that within the first ten minutes there were already whining children at my heels:

“Sarah, why’d you have to pick a hike with so many hills?” Oh yeah, oops.

On the plus side the brush was bursting with brilliant blooms, it was like somebody had emptied a flower kaleidoscope upon the hills. The views were spectacular after we’d dragged ourselves up 100’s of metres to the ridge-tops. They were a sweet reward for our efforts.

But there were still greater challenges for us upon this hike.

On the second day Stephany sprained ankle an ankle and the next day we lost her for a number of hours, but that all paled next to our final day:

The last day of our journey and we were so close to our victorious descent into Yarramalong, our endpoint. When…

Joe broke out in hideous fiery rashes. They spread across his skin, burning, itching and unstoppable. We had no antihistamines. No phone service. Panic set in for all of us: What if you were helplessly watching as dangerous rashes spread over your friend? Would you know what to do?

Eli and Lachlan heroically sprinted the 2kms to Yarramalong and called up for antihistamines. Steph and I were left to look on as the rashes got angrier. Can you imagine the feeling when you’re itching, almost as much as Joe was, to do something (anything) yet you can only wait.

After what felt like hours Eli and Lachlan came back to us. Help was on the way. Joe was just tough enough that he could walk so we stumbled onto the main road and fell with relief upon our emergency anti-histamine carriers. We hopped in the cars not even a k from our end point, not quite finishing as victoriously as we’d imagined. But everyone was safe, finally.

And with that happy ending here’s the moral.

 My four day journey was also a metaphoric journey of discovery. A challenge conquered. Everyone should be challenged because it is by challenges that we learn and improve.

So to better yourselves I challenge you, all of you, to take every day as an adventure for yourself. Make the most from life, grab every opportunity and be the best that you can be.

Thank you.

** Tonight Orara High School had five entrants (of six) into the Coffs Harbour Club Lions Youth of the Year competition of which I was one.  The speeches were tremendous and above is mine, given to a room of teachers, parents and most importantly Lions members.  Thank you to Lions for the opportunity to speak to you all.  It was a fantastic night :)