Burleigh Village People

The day started off like another day, waking up feeling unrefreshed, grumpy and frumpy. A passing glance in the mirror didn’t heighten the expectation of the day. I had developed a clear case of muffinotitis and on my way to auditioning as the next Michelin man. I don't really have any excuse not to exercise and look after myself, I have access to a great gym not including the treadmill and elliptical cross trainer at home.

For some reason whilst chatting about the Currumbin Eco village, we got sided tracked into a conversation regarding Kezzas, Gran doing Zumba classes. Now if an elderly lady can manage to go do some latin aerobics, be it to perve on the instructor surely I can muster up some motivation to renew and invigorate my aging body.

Usually at this stage I will try and come up with difficult ways to solve a problem, but remembering last nights episode of The Gruen Transfer (ABC) regarding their segment on direct marketing (infomercials), it got me thinking; what would a lazy person do. So what about Zumba I thought, or Windsor Pilates (no longer available in Australia) or the myriad of getting yourself into shape, abs like a Mars rover and only 3 payments of $19.90.

Not having that amount of cash to splash am a student after all, what else could I do, what do these things have in common. I figured it must be the people moving expertly and making you feel totally inadequate as you watch them on the idiot box. So what is so substantially different with these products and methods to prancing about on the telly compared to good old Aerobics Oz style. As far as I can tell the health kickee is mimicking a set of routines from a charismatic personality. The difference is the way it is presented to the public.

This difference of being hip and happening, presenting REAL stories and experiences by people just like me apparently, I never knew I was that much overweight or such a loser is the mainstay of these products. O.k am kinda sold on the idea, now which package should I warrant to invest my pool money with. Still taking the lazy easy path, Zumba is potentially a great way to dance my student induced lifestyle weight gain off. I can even do it the lab and if I'm lucky other people might join me instead of shunning and thinking am a nutter. So whats with all this dancing, its combining two things I have grown to distance myself from; dancing and exercise. Are there other dance your butt of programs I pondered. Thanks to the skills acquired from my laboratory sessions, I hit Google, a whole population  of dancing fitness videos are offered such as Hip Hop Abs, Belly dancing, even the 'So you think you can dance' franchise has gotten in on the act, there must be some dosh to be made.

If I am going to prance around my living room like a ding bat while watching the LCD TV listening to some douche telling me how good I am, I may as well watch a video clip. The Mount Isan new exercise phenomenon is born. Am going to dance my way to a Ghey-er body, with no down payment plan within ear shot.

How am I going to achieve this in the world of 8 min abs, by going back to the 80's. Back to the world of disco, bad taste, bad music, more cheesier jokes that I will ever come up with. My body will be transformed and transcend this pathetic shell by none other than the Village People. To be precise their music videos will. They have all of the formant of an infomercial fitness video package, music and bad dance routines projected proudly into my being.

The day began with one type of village people and concluded with another.

Happy Villaging

To Be

To Be

What ever you express in me is always dark.
I care not of your symbols or words.
Guide me to make your mark.
For your inner voice to be heard.
My resolve is precise and to the point.
Your meanings are dull through neglect.
Articulate me between your joints.
Erase me from your memory, trying to correct.
I linger on, I remain through the smear and the smudge.
Take me any position, tell me what you think
best for me to refrain, let you be the judge.
So whats your decision, me or the ink.

Plane, Train , Bus and GAMSAT

The heatwave(10 degrees Celsius) descended on to the city, its citizens scurry about like drunken nesting flying foxes. Their coats pulled tight against their bodies as the wind abrased the city streets. The echos of passing trams, couriers and the tides of taxis passed by me. Little regard is paid to the road regulations, red lights are invitations to sneak in through; the city's hook turns still baffles my mind. I gazed and wonder at the workings of the city, its buildings, the advertising that smack your senses as my vision darted from object to object. My destination loomed overhead, my attention locked on two small objects, hanging similar to a fire alarms as I cross the bitumen and the tram lines towards Southern Cross station.

Southern Cross station, the hub and junction of the city. Its tentacles of rail lines snake out into the outer suburbs; one of these, Caulfield - my destination. Laden like a packed mule and I probably looked like an ass, my purple environmental friendly bag in hand I traveled to Caulfield. Throngs of eager young and myself (not so young) gathered around at the base of the stairs, leading to the Rupert Clarke exam venue. The invigilator joked about how I was on top of the list, they were a nice lot; actually best I've ever had for any exam.

Running my eye over the Melbourne venue, I quick ascertain that 255 tables were setup.Lets see how much the exam might net, say $310 per candidate; holy smokes $79K not a bad effort. The population seemed to comprised of mainly Asian and sub-continental ethnic heritage. I set up my table with my usual paraphernalia and that last minute $10 watch from Big W (still have no idea where my Citizen is). Adjusted my position so that I was upright, did not want my parasympathetics to kick in during the exam.

Faces and expressions around the room ranged from excited to complete utter fear, I was in my usual meh mood. The usual spiel was given before S1 was about to commence. I placed my watch on the table, set at twelve o'clock, so that I can gauge where I should be in relation to the time elapsed. I took a breath and slowly turned the pages to check the exam paper and proceeded to read and understand the passage and its questions and their relevant answers before tackling the next set of questions. Knowing that S1 would be my Achilles heel, my strategy was to read for the understanding, what is the passage trying to convince me of, why are they using this tone etc, before moving onto the next passage while shuffling the previous out and repeating my analysis structure. I completed the section with 30 mins spare, spent another 10 checking questions I was iffy on. I relaxed and stretched for the extra 20 mins, I also knocked over a sharpener of the girl behind me as I carelessly stretched.

My writing has always been staggered, ideas are never fluid, most times my creative side is occluded. So lets bring on S2. The stimulus were on Competition and Political correctness, scribbled down a few main points and started off on "Competition of Humanity", this one took longer than I would have liked leaving 20mins for "Political Correctness in Society". By the end, I was pleased with my efforts, I just now need the assessors to understand my logic and flow.

During the lunch break I wolfed down the rest of my Tim Tams from the previous night. Other candidates were milling about, conversations started of on comparing answers to the previous 2 sections. Naturally the conversations gravitated towards the perverse section 3, the make or break for most Gamsateers and how it has always eluded them. I opened up my packet of MCAT flash cards, it was $5 how could I resist. I didn't learning anything knew from them, but I must say that I felt that they stimulated my sciences, it primed me for the material ahead.

Section 3, thundering across the room, its fine paper poised to cut me to shreds. I sat ready, I dove into my ordnance pack and found that my knowledge was bare, I will have to bring down this beast with my wits alone. In truth it was not that bad, the material that laid before me was presented in a logical manner. If one did not have a grounding in the area it was assessing, the theory and fundamentals were buried within the question and body of the text. I was surprised by the amount of definitions and simple formulae that was readily given. I used the question stem and additional information provided to work most of the questions to arrive at an approximate answer. Some of the material was heavy to plough through, it was worth it for me. A candidate that had a background in the biomedical sciences would have been sweet, as they would require less time to read the text passages. There were little tricks ACER did deliberately such as inverting the graph function, or having additional scales on the left hand side.

I will be honest and say that the UK GAMSAT was not as difficult from my own experiences, sure I should have studied but that was something that was never going to happen this semester. I did not find the day that draining, I am used to lengthy exams and all day lectures. I was satisfied that I completed very section where others said they had to do the bubble cha cha for 20 and 30 questions. The UK version may have different assessment criteria, I am only speculating. Where others whom have taken the March and previous Australian GAMSAT stated that the questions were the similar if not identical. I may have a false sense of achievement, I could be an ignorant idiot and a grand fool in the ways I answered the questions or I could just be lucky. Time will tell, in which side of the ledger I truly belong.

I took the Train, Bus and Plane home. I did wanted to elaborate more. I may edit this in the future, at this moment in time. MEH!




The Mount Isan.

Well Hello World...

Browse through any publications or tutorials on programming and you'll come across a common theme. The very first exercise is to print to screen or display module is that of " Hello World". This is my hello world moment, and like most first attempts there may be a few bugs to flick off the vacuum tubes. In my attempt at University to change Hello World to " Paul is Gay" has gathered some following in its 2nd year.

Hello world, welcome to the 1st installment of the Som Series. It will be a loose collections of mutterings and things that I find interesting or amusing, down right bizarre and hopefully on occasion a piece that may ask you to think and ponder your own surroundings.

Now lets get to speed, well we finally (Australia) have a government. I personally feel that it was correct for  Rob Oakeshott to not accept a ministry, played Labor at their own game. I had the dreaded "Man Flu" , and no I didn't feel that I was dying, lets say I saw my meals once more. All of this in a middle of an exam week and usual lab report deadlines and on top of that I have an impending exam that could change the course of my career.

Yes that's right folks the UK Gammy is here once more. Long time admirer first time candidate. I already failed in my attempts in the studying for dreaded Gammy as others would say. Taking on 5 courses and the Gammy in itself which really requires its own full time study of ( Biology, Physics, O-Chem, Chem, essay righting ;p) and to top it off possess some common sense for the reasoning portion. C'mon am iz engineering, common sense does not apply, I just assume its a certain condition.

But as usual, I will just sit down and enjoy a bit of Breaking Bad season 2.

..... and yes the Wills finally got me into WoW, Mat will be so proud of me. Ztransform is now Lvl 18, oh how geeky am I!