I took the ex and the kids for a drive to Adelaide last weekend. We were a little scared about how the kids would get on in a ten-hour drive, and how we would actually get on. Tragedy brought my ex and I closer together. We had two accidents in our time away (neither were technically my fault, though I didn’t get the plate number of the truck that threw off a fruit crate that wrecked the front spoiler, radiator and air conditioner; fortunately my mum’s neighbour who backed into the car while it was parked on the street ‘fessed up).

But the kids were great passengers. Megan dived into Harry Potter’s world for the entire 22 hours we were on the road, and AJ enjoyed watching the dashboard for the next indicator symbol to flash so he could tell us which way the car wanted us to go. Very cute.

They were so cute I couldn’t help but film it.

The kids, and then Kate and finally I caught gastro within the few days back home in Shepp. Though none of us was particularly happy with it, I for one was totally relieved it didn’t hit any of us in the car. Many more accidents would have been had. Made mum and dad remind me of all the urine, vomit and sweat smell stories that plagued their interstate journeys when I was young. They’re feeling rather miffed at the mo’, having been hoping endlessly that my children are as bad as I was.

One of my students found this photograph and sent it to me a while back. Unfortunately it got caught by a spam filter so I only got it just now. Sorry bud.

Catchy slogan, yet another attempt to scare us into going to church, or at least trying to prick at our own fears of not going to church a “ignoring God”. Man, it’s 5am here, I’m sure that didn’t make sense.

So I’ve started writing my thesis.

I’ve been quite reluctant over the past few months. I promised myself to have at least a few thousand words done by the end of the summer holidays, but it never eventuated. Conversations in the first supervision session of the year focussed mainly on what writing I haven’t done yet, how important it is to start writing, even if it’s crap, and little entertaining anecdotes about being published and my kids’ summer adventures that were eventually dismissed as all too obvious attempts at talking about anything else than writing.

At the end of the working day I strap on my armour and face the evil Procrastilon. She has twenty eyes dotted all over her forehead and tattoos of crushed snails and centipedes up her arms and neck. Her posse of whorish vixens include Mahjong Titans, Facebook and YouTube, who suck me into their world where I am kept for days on end, frail and abused, tortured and lame of mind.

Actually I developing my own strengths in the battle. I find that if I am at the computer by nine pm, then by 1am I am in the zone. I find myself typing at a record speed of twenty-five words a minute. By that time I don’t give a flying f*** about the sentences that are forming on the screen; I’m just producing. The first forty words of the thesis introduction took me almost two weeks to compose; the rest of it took me less than two hours.

The other day I met with my supervisor to discuss the chapter. Here is a transcript:

Supervisor: Well I read it. It was fine.

Paul: Fine?

S: Yeah.

P: Really, because I just sorta wrote it out thinking it would be cra…

S: No it was fine.

P: Oh, good. So everything’s in there that should be? The right content?

S: Yes, that bit is fine.

P: Okay, and how’s my writing style? Is that okay?

S: Oh yeah that quite fine.

P: Right. So no need to make any changes or improvements.

S: No, Paul. I think you’re doing fine so far.

P: Well, good then.

S: Yes. Umm. You could write some more though.

P: Oh. Okay. Will do.

Man I so want his job.

I just got permission from one of the bloggers in my sample to tell her story as I’ve written it in the introduction, so I’ll post the chapter after I tweak it a little. As you will read, it is a fine piece of work.

2008 is turning out to be quite the year.

I’m loving myself sick in the lecturing job. Over 150 students at the edge of their seat, hanging on to every word I say. It’s bloody marvellous. I can even bore them to tears and they still won’t move. They just sit there, writing notes and crying quietly. Ah the power.

Actually I’ve been told by some students that I’m quite all right at this gig. I manage to get a few laughs out of them from time to time, and I offer them treats like YouTube videos and magazine advertisements with partial nudity. Bread and circuses. A couple have told me they like my lecturing style, that they don’t zone out like in other lectures.

And for most of them I believe that’s quite a feat. Over a hundred of them are PR students, whose university day begins with lectures at 930am, and doesn’t not finish until after 6pm. So they have two hours of listening to my voice right in the middle of the day. I have seen some doze off, but I can’t blame them. Many of my old uni friends would call me a hypocrite if I ever complained about it. I used to be quite famous for not only regularly falling into slumber during Church History or Theological Reflections on Ministry, but for letting everyone know what I was dreaming about at the time.

If anyone’s interested in seeing some of the entertaining and informative PPT slides I use in my lectures, I can post them. I won’t bother with it unless there are takers. I can even add some notes if you’d like to make sense of them.