Deposit Box

Only halfway through but it's already been a pretty heavy year.

On a bit of  Jack Johnson roll, beautiful stuff.

Just wanted to jot down a little something I think I might want to remember, this is out of a debate that I did mid-2010.

I think it was about whether or not prisoners should be given lighter sentences if they donate their organs. We (Jo, Bry and myself) were the opposing team and this was our final round.
Going into it I was a tad worried because I'd just had a MAJOR breakdown that morning and someone very special to me said "I'm sure you'll be back breathing fire and brimstone in no time."

The brilliant thing is that's exactly what I did and I had so, very much fun at it. One of the high points :

(The proposing 2nd speaker was blathering on about Martha Stewart having come out a model citizen.)
Me : Excuse me, ma'am, did Martha Stewart serve her full sentence?
2nd Speaker : Yes.
Bry : Thank you. :)

The thing is it was one of those questions that sort of slipped out, it hadn't made it's way past my brain but I knew if there ever was a moment to ask it, that was it and thinking back it could've gone horribly wrong. In all honesty I think it only worked because the question really frazzled her, she just wanted to spit an answer out so she could get on with her speech.

We won, of course, and the nice old Indian man who was head adjudicator called me "our George girl" while announcing I made best speaker. It made me awfully proud in a strange way because your surname becomes an identity of sorts and you've done well by it. The Chinese guy gave me the highest score he'd given in the entire competition and he'd thought I was brilliant. Very sweet.

Its sort of nice to think I might just have something to fall back on if this whole medicine madness doesn't work out. I hate having a plan B though. More often than not have to put it into action and it makes you think if I never actually have a back up plan it's always do or die and you do until you die. Or is there a certain point where chasing something doesn't make sense anymore? Thankfully I'm about two steps away from having to answer that really big question. There is very great joy to be had in a lack of baggage.

Yes, well this is long enough, isn't it? Bit more, bear with me. Read Randy Pausch's Last Lecture and it made me want to go off into the big world and do EVERYTHING. Partly blame the cousin who took me go-karting because it was such an incredible rush I might secretly be an adrenaline junkie. So I came home and started looking for Google internships and ways to become a Disney Imagineer, big, fun things basically. Unfortunately you need a degree for both, presumably in reasonable lines of work.

If I ever throw in the towel it'd probably be in favour of IT just because there is so much technology fighting it's way into the world right now it seems like a pretty great place to be in terms of trying really hard to be up there with "game-changers".

For now my big dreams of trying to do just about everything are on brakes but they haven't exactly stopped. I may have found my way into the opportunity to sing a solo in the Malaysian mecca of arts which is bloody brilliant by my guess. I do hope it works out because it would pretty much make my entire college experience, as would 4 straight HDs both of which I can live without but it's like cake and ice cream, why would you want to live in a world without either?

Strange how a lot of cool things that happen to me seem to be by accident. And yes now I'm done.

Am I back? Oh, I don't know.

There is a lot of world to conquer.