Tuesday, January 04, 2005


I went on a message board for the work program Jeff and I are going through and I discovered that a bunch of different people from all over are arriving in Sydney around the same time as us. Some may even be on our flight. I know they're complete strangers, but for some reason it made me feel better about the whole thing, a little less nervous. It's nice to know that we're not alone in what we're doing, and that I'm not the only one that's half excited/half terrified by the endeavors. Roommate prospects are looking good...The site is awesome and I'm really impressed with the organization of the program, plus setting up a bank account in Sydney was a breeze.



At 7:21 AM, Blogger Jeff said...

I dunno why you're worried that we'll be all alone, but I'm glad the site help assuage a part of that fear.

Check your email, if you haven't yet.

At 9:06 AM, Blogger Chris said...

Guess who read Jeff's blog and hence will now continue reading about your adventurous life. I'll give you a hint, it's not Duncan.

P.S. I'm re-vamping (is that a word?) my whole site this month, it should be ready right before you hop on that plane.

At 7:46 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,--act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;--

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

You're doing the right thing. Be brave and have an adventure. But do watch out for sharks. tricky bastards

At 7:23 AM, Blogger Mary said...

Who's the mysterious poster that left the poem? For what it's worth I love it...who was it written by?


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