Exams a Coming

Well its been a busy week down here in the deep south. For the last few days we have been getting a wealth of information regarding exams. The first one in fact is next tuesday. And its the most boring subject imaginable...COMMUNICATIONS.

The good thing is though, that the manager of the Grand has converted a room into an absolutely fantastic study area with a long table so you can spread your stuff out and a computer that ties into the SIT network was installed a couple of weeks ago so things are looking up.

The downside of Last Week was one of my best friends (we shared a corridor to ourselves) left the Grand with SIT backing. She wasn't coping with the noise at all hours and during the week. There are times even I feel like losing it like she did. But, i should be strong and know that no matter how bad it is in the Grand, things could get worse.

I'm planning on making a trip to the Bay sometime in the near future, so I can let you all know how i'm going, and what i'm doing.

Brett says "Hi!"

~Sam

I write this post from my sickbed more or less. This past week i've been knocked back by a pretty heavy cold. It hasn't been pleasent. I guess its more or less due to the fact that winter (one of nvercargill's 2 seasons) is approaching fast. The good thing is that i'm not the only one affected. Quite a few people at the Grand are falling ill.

On a differen subject, i've started doing something quite alarming...don't panic, its nothing bad...well depends how you take it really. I have only been in the deep south since february, so thats like only 4 months right? Well I have started to roll my "r's" especially in "Nurse", "Burger", "Work".

I apologise that this post lacks substance, but i've been so run down, i'm finding it hard to actually type this post.

Posted below is a poem I wrote during the families "Secret Beach" Holiday with Kurt and Hine

Until I write again,

~Sam

Mahinepua Bay
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Jagged grey rocks line the bay
The waves crash into the shore
In an uncaring embrace //
//
The afternoon mist
A whirling maelstrom of fog
Blankets the landscape in shimmering moisture //
//
The late sun sets low in the sky
The fog retreats and
The land is tinted gold //
//
The crashing waves echo
Penetrating the quite night air
As the world lays down to sleep //
//