Photoshopping

I started and finished two pictures today for my MK 400 (Marketing Management) project. We're trying to market to the 55+ year-old demographic. We're calling our product the PlayStation Rejuvenation. The advertisements will run in AARP magazine, encouraging the mature audience to purchase a high-end gaming system. Of course, there will be some product modification in order to make the PS3 more user friendly (e.g. Simplified controllers, large icons to facilitate failing eyesight, etc.) Hell, we could even get Cialis or Viagra as a sponsor. Keep in mind this is a two page ad--that means you'll see the first part, want to know where the advertisement is going, flip the page and then see the second part.

Why is an old man playing a Playstation 3? This is ridiculous!

See what happens? The PlayStation 3 acts like a fountain of youth.

Satiric-Al

Get the title? It's a play on words. I'm going to start writing short satire pieces for the Vanguard (Bentley Newspaper) ala The Onion. So, if you're a Bentley Student, be sure to check out next Thursday's Vanguard for my new article. I already have a few ideas on what I'd like to talk about, so hopefully more will keep coming.

Next week I'll be performing at the pub night (Thursday, October 30th--and wouldn't you know, it's the same Thursday as the satire article too). This will be my first public guitar-ing experience since busking in Melbourne. I'm excited, but it's also right up against karaoke night, which I'm not sure is a good or bad thing.

I cut my finger washing dishes last night. My glass coffee pot had a little chunk missing which I didn't see, and while drying out the inside by doing that wrist twisting motion, I sliced right into my index finger. Blood started shooting out and I had to stop cleaning. Strangely enough, my roommates recently proposed buying a dishwasher for the apartment, which I see no purpose in. Was this coffee pot tampering or just a coincidence? The plot thickens.

Drawing

One fun thing about marketing classes the year is my option of drawing mock-up advertisements and designs using PhotoShop. If there's art to be done in a group project, I usually jump on that pretty quick. And most (actually all) of the time, I get dibs. This is probably because most Bentley students are impartial to art. This is just my opinion, but I think that you need to incorporate some form of art into whatever you do to be successful. Well, most successful ideas are creative, and creativity and art are oftentimes interchangeable or synonymous.

So, back to what I was getting at. I really enjoy drawing--I mean, my dad is a children's book illustrator, so I guess I'm a product of an artistic environment. Either that or it's genetic, but it's probably impossible to tell now. Here's one I did for my marketing project class. It's a Bentley Falcon carrying away a Babson Beaver. The context of the cartoon makes sense when it's in the mock-up advertisement for the company we're doing the project for, but I signed a ton of legal/privacy forms without reading the fine print. Now this one, for my GB-401 class, was just me trying to fit as many companies that have a competitive advantage (in some aspect) in one picture as possible. Can you find all the companies? It's like one of those pictures in the Highlights magazines I used to read as a kid.
There's one more picture here. It's of a persona that I drew for my marketing project class. His name (courtesy of Nehal) is Alan Knowall-- the typical Bentley student. I can honestly say I feel like a drew a complete toolbag. I think it's a viable representation of the gray area produced when you combine business and art. Art is created for its aesthetic appeal, whereas advertisements (i.e. business mixed with art) is used to attract a consumer for corporate reasons, rather than for the aforementioned purpose of art. The result? This guy: I was pleasantly surprised to open last year's Piecework (Bentley students' annual literary compilation) and see my story on the first page. Usually, I take precaution when seeing this, because I know it's usually just an alphabetical thing. But after further inspection, the following names weren't entirely in alphabetical order. Either way, it was the first story in the book, and usually, the casual reader (the person who glances at Piecework) will just read the first paragraph of the entire compilation before moving on. But shit--that'll be my first paragraph that they'll glance at. I'm stoked.

Memories

As excited as I was to see Indiana Jones 4, I was also equally worried. Even though I knew it wasn't some cheap remake handed on to another director, it still had that "no matter how hard you try, I'm gonna be compared to your childhood memories" attitude floating about it.

It's kind of like when something is real good and has the potential to continue to be so. And yeah, you might take your chances and go for more, but there's always the looming possibility of ruining anything additional plus whatever came before. My most recent experience of similar relation is gambling at the casino. My most relevant experience is a childhood memory, and I think it relates to my overall consensus of Indy 4.

When I was ten years old (maybe younger) I remember going to the pet store to pick out a fish for our new aquarium. "Wow," I remember thinking-- "I get to have my very own fish!" I was initially excited about this new prospect, because hey, getting any fish you wanted was pretty cool. The excitement of this is similar to seeing the first Indiana Jones many years ago. I was thrilled.

So my mom took me to the pet store and looked for a fish. To my dismay, I had trouble finding a fish. Time was running out and I began to worry-- if I left without a fish, the whole day would suck. But then I saw it: an underwater lizard (a newt). It was in my allowance price range and it would fit inside the aquarium at home. The idea of buying a newt totally kicked the ass of the idea of buying a fish. So, I bought the newt. This is the second Indiana Jones movie in my mind.

Of course, my brother was with me as well. He was initially set on getting a fish, but not to be outdone, he got a newt as well. In fact, he picked one that was twice as big as mine. I had no problem with this, in fact I was even more excited. When I'm happy and everyone else is happy, my overall mood is heightened. I guess it could be described in an equation:

My Overall Happiness = (My Initial Happiness) x (Anyone Else's Happiness)

But back to the point. Basically, this happiness is the third Indiana Jones movie, which is my favorite of the four. After getting home, my brother and I put our newts in our own tanks and called it a day. Boy, was that awesome.

A week later my brother had a particularly awesome idea. He said we should put the newts in the same tank so they could hang out together. At first I was skeptical, but I gave in. Maybe they'd be friends. That'd be really cool.

So we brought my brothers newt from his tank over to my tank and plopped him in. My brother's newt, who was twice as big as mine, proceeded to waddle over to my newt and bite him across the midsection, paralyzing and eventually killing him. This was Indiana Jones 4 for me.

Now, proportionally, this doesn't reflect upon my disappointment of the fourth movie. It's just the sort of feeling I got after watching it. I grew up enjoying Indiana Jones, creating adventure scenarios in my backyard with friends, going on hikes to discover new areas, etc. I just couldn't relive it again after the fourth. It tried too hard to be too much, and as I remember, if you try too hard to squeeze the last bit of enjoyment out of something you might end up with a dead newt. Or a ridiculous receipt for a $13 movie, $5 coke, and a bruise on a childhood memory. But that's life, and I'm cool with that.

'Roo Nights

Pictures and Words

Prior to arriving in Australia, I was pretty excited about seeing a kangaroo. In fact, I'm not sure I'd even seen one of these marsupials in person before coming here. I eventually saw one at the zoo (previous post) but at that point I had no idea I'd be eating them—especially on a weekly basis with a side salad, mashed potatoes and a pot of beer. All for a low price of $10. With all things considered, I'm probably actually making money by eating 'roo every Monday night. And I haven't even mentioned how delicious it is.

I took my camera on this trip for a few reasons. Firstly, after this week's trip to the Croft Institute, Dro awoke my inner paparazzi by taking tons of photos (which is for the best, since I just realized how little time I have left here and how much there is to photograph). Another reason for me to bring the Powershot was the fact that I feel that this weekly trip is going to be one of those memories that stays with me. I mean, after I'm back home for a couple of years, I can always reflect back on my time abroad with Pete, Meg, Matt, Brian, Dro, Courtney, Lamya, Joe, Tom, and whoever else has joined us for these dinners and say, "remember that time we ate kangaroo?"

Interestingly, the whole concept of eating kangaroo in Australia is relatively new. Apparently, it's only recently been popularized by restaurants and food establishments over the past decade, so there are quite a few Australians who find it strange to eat the meat. Me, being a naive American, find little (if anything) wrong with eating it. It's damn delicious. However, the reason for consumption is not actually because the steaks complement mashed potatoes, salad (and now carrots!) so well-- instead, it's because the bouncy little guys have become a pest (i.e. knocking down fences on farms, eating crops, etc.). So, we're actually doing Australia a favor by eating them.

But I do understand why some Australians may find this absurd. Imagine one day, back at home, the government was like "damn, we're really having an issue with squirrel overpopulation." So yeah, you see where I'm going with this. Maybe the Australians would be the ones who find squirrel steaks delicious, who knows.

Easter on an Island

I will be heading out early tomorrow morning (the 21st of March) to Phillip Island for my four-day spring break solo excursion. What will happen? Will I get to hold a koala? Will I get to take a photo of an epileptic dwarf penguin? Will the V-Line ticket that I bought actually get me to where I need to go? All these questions will (hopefully) be answered soon enough, with pictures to prove the credibility of my adventure. And maybe, just maybe, a smuggled fairy penguin as well, stashed deep within the vacated laptop compartment of my backpack.

Metric system-- No Worries

After a week, I feel good to say that I've gotten used to Australian lifestyle-- at least enough to get by. Of course, because Australians speak English, this transition was pretty smooth. But it's not without its exceptions. For instance, Australians have many different sayings for various things. I was thinking about compiling a list, but I bet there's already one online somewhere. Even so, here's some I discovered on my own: (English meaning is first, followed by the Australian)

1.) Pitcher of beer = jug of beer
2.) Raisins = Sultanas
3.) Peppers = (i forget this one but it's weird)
4.) Sweatshirt = Jumper
5.) To Puke = To Chunder (my personal favorite)

So, apparently Durgel's name is spelled Dougal, (like Doug) but his Australian accent makes it sound like the former. I've just been calling him "Durg" for short, and I guess I still should... it's probably too late to change now anyway. Phonetically, I must sound really weird to him-- speaking in an American way and only saying his name in an Australian accent.

Yesterday I went to the zoo. Here are some pics (some are blurry... oh well):

There Will Be Busking

So, I applied for a license to busk in downtown Melbourne. Maybe I can make some money on the side, who knows. It's raining today, so I'm thinking about writing some new songs to busk. That's such a fun word: busking. I will be a busker busking buskingly. Busk.

First Post

Well, I don't leave for another month, but I thought that I should at least start a journal before I leave. Maybe this will work, maybe it won't-- but I want to try to keep a record of my semester abroad.