i had my postgraduate review today. for those of you swimming by this livejournal, or recently friended (hi), i spend my regular daylight hours working on a thesis in between teaching creative writing and english and writing fiction. but it all bleeds into each other, because my thesis is in fact a novel. it currently has the working title of a walking tour of the dreaming city and is about sydney, which is the city i call home. (it's also a novel with an academic background in cities and race and the such.) i'm not going to bore you with the details of my novel, except that in the next four months, some serious sit down writing is going to be happening.
but i had my review, and i sat there, i talked, i tried a few jokes, and i told the story of the fast food job i applied for, and where the guy interviewing me asked if i had a criminal record. when i told him no, he told me i was lying and said that this was why he wasn't going to give me a job. the people laughed, and then i went back to talking about cities and marcel de certeau and james donald and things like that. figured it went okay, and hey, look at this, it's a personal post.
oh well. can't win them all.
back to regular broadcasting now.