one week to go...

In one week's time I'm headed back to Newcastle - yeeha!

For how long I know not, but none the less l'm looking forward to it.

That's not to say I haven't enjoyed Ingham. I've learned so much about myself and about my job here. And just it seems just as I've started to make some hard and fast friendships it's time to leave. But what can you do?

I'll miss the landscape. The total Independence. The abundance of free time (which conversely equals boredom). The beaches and the islands. I think I'm even going to miss the Express itself. It's been an adventure.

I'm still dying to come home though.

The next question is of course what the will I do when I get back?

I've been frantically looking for positions in and around Newcastle and Sydney. Just starting to get some bites. I have an interview in Sydney next week for a b2b journalist position. Don't know if it's me but I'll give the interview a shot and scope it out. How do you go back to a desk job after community journalism? As hard as this job is sometimes I love it.

I also had a video hook up interview today with a paper in Scone about 2 hours north of Newcastle. Not sure.... still pretty far away. Especially considering Luke has job in Sydney with the ABC next February.

Looks like it might be a Christmas holiday retail job for me. :P

I don't really mind though. Might be nice to have some free time for a bit. It's an exciting prospect to be cut loose for a while.

Come what may I suppose...

perspective

This weekend I had a visit from Luke!

He arrived on Thursday afternoon for a long weekend stay. I took Friday and today off work so we could hang. I was in huge need of a break and a piece of home.

It was so fantastic to have him here. So nice to have a familiar face around to share with and snuggle with.

It was hard to say goodbye today. I felt sick in my stomach from the time we got to the airport. I still do now.

I don't think I really realised how lonely I've been feeling until after he left today. I've had times when I've felt alone... this blog can testify to that... but this feels different.

After Luke left today I went back in to Townsville to stroll around for a bit and soak up the civilisation, so to speak...

I went walking in the mall and came across a bookstore called ''Molly Who?" It was so nice to get lost between the shelves and see what is new read-wise at the moment. Although I hope never to do customer service work again, I do miss working at Angus and Robertson sometimes. Having first dibs and knowing what's hot in the literary world was kinda fun.

I'd love to own a bookshop of my own one day. As long as I never had to talk to anyone. I could be like Bernard Black...

This bookshop in Townsville was particularly nice though. Along with the best sellers they had lots of interesting stuff too, and a great non-fiction section. I ended up spending over $100.... (shhh, don't tell)

I bought:

• Apples by Richard Milward - crazy random book about English teenagers who have lots of sex.
• Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell - I actually haven't read it yet... please don't judge me.
• Scorcher by Clive Hamilton - bitch session about the Australian Government's stance on climate change.
• The Little Red Writing Book by Mark Tredinnick - a writer's guide to better babble.

I was particularly interested in the non fiction section of this shop. It had a lot of books on modern politics and social issues. Looking through these titles made me realise how incredibly tiny the stories I write for the paper are... and I don't mean in word-length. I mean in importance. Even my hardest news stories look like fluff when compared to these books, which address the same types of issues in huge depth.

One day I would like to write something important. Every writer says that I know. But despite the cliche I still feel that way.

I don't know why I'm going on about this bookshop... This blog has been a bit of a stream of consciousness type affair. I guess it's just another thing I've been missing while I've been in Ingham. Luke. Friends. Family. Music. Books. Convenience. Coffee..... THE LIST GOES ON.

I am not cut out for extended periods of isolation or rural living, methinks.

Six months down, three to go.

xox

Tegz

football

Today, I do solemly swear, that I will never bag out football as a sport, or footballer players, ever again.

It's not because I've had a sudden change of heart, and have learned to embrace the game though.

It's because someone, up there, in the sky is punishing me. Punishing me for my 23 years of football hating, and probably for all the times I've written-off footballers as sub-human breed of boofhead.

I remember rolling my eyes as a teenager, as my school friends discussed last weekend's NRL game, and how cute Andrew John's bottom was as he ran up and down Marathon Stadium. I think these long lunchtimes of complete and utter boredom were the start of my dislike for football. It's grown from there though.

Over the years I've actively expressed my disgust for the sport in front of actual football fans, and I think I may have actually offended some of them.

That's not to say I like upsetting people or being obnoxious. I'm certainly not proud of having offended anyone with my opinions. But I really, honestly, don't like football. It's violent, it promotes pack-mentality behaviours and I don't like the boys club culture of it all.

Actually, I was recently accused of descriminating against footballers, and making generalisations, by a close friend. For this reason, I will add to the above by stating that I have met some quite nice footballers. Not all footballers are bad. Just most of them.

Ok, ok, settle down. I'm joking. Footballers are not bad. And I am making generalisations. Don't be too upset by my comments - because I'm being taught a lesson. And like I said, I'm never bagging out football again.

My anti-football sentiments are all coming back to bite me on the butt.

Since working in Queensland, I've been assigned the role of sports photographer for the local rugby league club. This effectively means I have to spend every second Saturday trotting around the edges of the local football grounds, snapping beefy young men, for no extra pay.

I'm having a whinge at the moment because I've just got all wet taking photos at an under 19's game in the rain. I have to go back to the field later tonight to take photos of the A-grade team.

Like I said. Someone up there, the almighty if you like, really likes football.

And I'm getting a boot up the pants for dissing it.

xox tegz

honest blogging...

I've been reading lots of blogs lately and I've been noticing a few things...

There are people who blog about ideas. And there are people who blog about their emotions. There are people who blog about their day, and some like to mix it up with anecdotes etc. Some people blog about all of the above.

But I think all blogs can be divided in two categories. Honest and dishonest. I know that sounds very black and white. But it's true.

Unfortunately I think my blogging efforts so far fall into the dishonest category. That's not to say that I've been actively dishonest. But I haven't been writing about everything that's been going on, what I've been thinking, feeling and so forth.

What I'm getting at is that I've been sensoring myself. I haven't beens saying thing's I'd because I'm worried about god knows what.

So let's throw caution to the wind...

Ingham is really really boring man. I'm trying super hard to make the best of being here - and I am. The job really is good and I'm learning lots. It was a good decision to come.

But sometimes, not all the time, it sucks.

On a Friday night when I have nothing to do (like tonight) it sucks. It also sucks when I need a hug, or a want to see a band, or I want to buy a good book, or I want to see a decent movie.

But most of all it sucks because of all the people am missing. I miss Luke. Enormously. I miss the snuggles, fun times and being close to my best friend.

I also miss my family. And my friends. I miss coffee with my mum on Sunday afternoon in the kitchen. I miss beers and adventures with friends. It stinks.

I also feel like I'm missing out on things sometimes. Could I have aimed higher? Had a bigger, more daring adventure than this? Why didn't I go for a job in a bigger city? In a different country? bah.

Anyway. So tonight at least I've been honest. I'm lonely and sad. Boohoo.

I'm going to go watch the rest of Lost In Translation now and make myself even sadder.

cya.

Tegz

Almost halfway...

I've been in Ingham for nearly four months now! That's almost half way through my contract, which expires in August.

The weeks seem to go really quickly. I think it's because of the way the paper is produced. Because we bring a paper out on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, we alternate between a deadline day, and a non-deadline day. There's a rhythm to it.

Last week I had my first true ''celebrity'' meeting. I had the honour (ahem) of meeting Mal Meninga and Gene Miles, of Quensland State of Origin fame, at the Crushers' (our local regional league club) gala season launch diner thingo. Lol. I got to sit next to Gene Miles. Woo woo!! He drank my beer by accident.

It was a fun night but it certainly didn't do a whole lot to dispell my dislike of football culture (and sometimes players).

Today I interviewed a film-maker who grew up in Ingham, who is making a doco on the Queensland Emergency Management rescue helicopter service for the ABC. Seemed like a really interesting lady. Apparently she's moving back here as well. I hope I get to meet her.

There is certainly no shortage of interesting people who live, or have lived in Ingham.

A few months ago I interviewed a lady who works for Film Victoria, who's husband was nominated for an Oscar this year.

Also... Apparently Tommy Emanuel grew up here. His brother and sister still live here apparently. Funny stuff.

Lots of sporting talent here too.

I've certainly learned a lot in the time that I've been working at the Express. I also feel like I still have a loooooooooot to learn. My writing has come a long way in terms of style etc. I still think I can do better though in a lot of areas though. I am slowly learning that being a journalist is often about being okay with being a nuisance.

Missing Newcastle like crazy. I miss Luke. I miss my family. I miss my friends. I miss all my favourite places.

I miss having things to do on the weekend :-)

I'm getting there though, and I'm not sorry I came.

xox
Tegz

margaret thorsborne

Earlier this year, I had the privilege of interviewing an amazing local lady named Margaret Thorsborne.

Margaret is quite possibly one of the most interesting woman I've ever met. She is (from my guess) in her late seventies, an avid conservationist, and lives in the middle of a Edmund Kennedy National Park about 60kms north of Ingham, the town where I live.

Let me tell you a bit about her...

In the late seventies, Magaret and her husband visited Hichinbrook Island, just off the north coast of Queensland.

While exploring the island they came across a colony of native pigeons, commonly known as the pied imperial pigeon. On returning to the mainland, they mentioned their find to a local who informed them that once the island had been alive with the birds. Apparently the pigeon population had dwindled dramatically since shooters from the mainland discovered them on island. The shooting of the birds was illegal even then, but hunters ignored the laws, which were difficult to enforce.

Margaret and her husband were so enchanted by the birds and concerned by their plight, they decided to embark on a yearly pigeon count to monitor the population and raise awareness about the danger that shooters posed to the species survival.

They continued their count for ten years, until 1984 when the project was adopted by the Queensland Parks and Wildlife Service, who still conduct a count as an annual event. Margaret still goes along to assist with the counts, which now show stable numbers of around 20,000 birds on the island. A big increase, considering the population came as low as 2000, according to Margaret's counts.

More remarkably, Margaret and her husband moved from Brisbane and bought a stretch of property just off the mainland. Later in life, they sold this property to the Federal Government for one dollar, so it could be incorporated into the surrounding National Park and conserved forever. As part of the agreement, they had permission to remain in their house for as long as they wished, or until they passed on.

Although her husband has since passed away, Margaret still lives in her house, right in the middle of the rainforest.

And what an amazing house it is. Full of books and true expression of Margaret's self, it's almost as though the house is a natural part of the forest.

For one afternoon I was lucky enough to sit with Margaret on her veranda and share a cup of tea, while she told me the story of how she came to live there. She even showed me the one dollar cheque.

While we sat and chatted, a cassowary and it's three chicks walked around in the rainforest next the house, and was lucky enough to see them.

It might not sound all that amazing but I really felt lucky to have met such a wonderful lady.

It was also one of those moments that made me think about why I want to be journalist. I get to meet awesome people as part of my job, and share their experiences. Not every day I suppose... but often enough.

Anyway... enough soppy stuff. I'm making myself gag here.

Just wanted to share.

xox tegz

3 months down...

I've been here for almost three months now... how time goes!

Working at the paper is great. I really feel like I'm starting to get the hang of things now and I can see that my work is getting better and is beginning to flow a little easier...

I've written some stories now and have done some work that I'm really proud of.

I have discovered I love issues writing and hate doing court reporting. I've been apointed as the papers official rugby league reporter and I've experienced my first real flood.

All pretty exciting stuff :-)

On the flip side though I have discovered that small town life really does suck as far as having a social life goes... I'm pretty good at keeping myself occupied. But it does get lonely up here.

And I miss Luke and my family like crazy. I feel like I am missing out on being a part of their lives...

xoxo tegz