life is good

I got this picture from Pinterest, but I don't know where it came from before that.

Right now, life is good.

I finished university for the year on Friday. There was an amazing feeling of accomplishment and it just re-enforced that the decision to take a risk, quit the sucky full-time job and chase a dream was the right one. I've met some wonderful, like-minded people this year (you know who you are) and I can't wait to see them regularly next year.

The weather, it seems, celebrated with me by putting on a glorious blue sky, sun-shiny, perfect 28-degree day. I took my book (The Secret History by Donna Tartt - loving it) and laid out in the sun. The sun got too hot for the backyard so I high-tailed it to the beach.

Being three o'clock on a Monday afternoon, the beach was pleasantly deserted, save for a few. The water was like ice and the first wave was so strong, it pulled me under and pulled down my bottoms. I misjudged the next wave and it broke as I turned side on, feeling like a car had slammed into me. It was wonderful. I stayed in the water for over half an hour, floating on my back, swimming with the waves, getting salt water up my nose. When I left at 5.20pm, the sun was still hot.

Now my skin is warm and prickly, a socially unacceptable shade of pink. I'm slathered in Palmer's Cocoa Butter. Tomorrow is forecast to be 31 and I'm heading back the beach. 

I love holidays. I love freedom. I love that feeling of having no obligations, knowing I don't have an assignment that I should be researching or a book that I should be reading. I've told work not to even contemplate calling me for two weeks and I have things planned. Stuff to do. Stuff like writing, putting three-year-old photos in albums, reading, relaxing without guilt.

Mr Wilde said it best

With freedom, books, flowers, and the moon, who could not be happy?

I've been stockpiling books for the summer break in the same way a squirrel packs nuts away for winter.

This is my To Be Read pile. I've never before had so many unread books. Usually, I might have another up my sleeve to start as soon as I finish one, but to have this many is overwhelming. Too much choice, which do I start with? As we speak, I've started Summer Crossing, Dead Man's Chest, Lolita, and The Secret History, dipping a little into each before I commit to one. Having this many books to read is such a luxury. I feel sorry for people who don't read. How much they are missing out on.

As well as all of these, I bought a Kobo e-reader a few weeks ago. It comes pre-loaded with one hundred of the classics. While I'm not sure I'll ever read War & Peace, it's nice to know that it's there, in case I ever feel the urge.


I've also been reading The Complete Adventures of Sherlock Holmes on this nifty little thing. I never thought I would be one to get an eReader. The whole thing about how can you curl up on the couch and read a book when it's not paper? I said that, others have said it. But, you know, once you're reading a good story, it doesn't matter if it's printed on pages or if it's on an electronic handheld device. It's still a good story. You can still get lost in it. And the Kobo isn't back-lit like some other readers, which gives a matte finish so there's no glare. I love it. 


Of course, it doesn't replace a bookcase of well-thumbed novels - of which, I'm fighting the urge to colour-code ...

Oh. And, um, speaking of books ... I may have had a story published in one lately. Well, yes, I did. It's the University's Anthology, Montage. A real book. A copy will be sent to the National Library of Australia. Me, my name, it's going to be in the Library. It's very exciting.

Having people read my writing hasn't gotten any easier. When my parents picked up a copy of Montage, I flipped: Don't read it now! Not in front of me! God! Even when they told me the next day they'd read it, I still went all funny. They may have well told me they had spent a few hours reading through my diaries. It's such a weird feeling and one I know I will have to overcome. Eventually. These things can't be rushed.

Gah, I think Blogger is still being a bitch and adding too many line spaces. Your days are numbered, Blogger.

Oy...

(image from here)

This is how I'm feeling. I have so many posts up there in the noggin, but there is sweet f.a. chance of getting them out. The next week is going to be a total biatch. I'll be taking my frustrations out via Twitter: apologies in advance if you are already following me and if you aren't, it's probably wise not to start now.

Four o'clock next Friday afternoon, I love you already.