My desk is now tidy, and has been newly uncovered as the Place to Be, for rubber bands. However, the huddled masses of unusable stationary appreciators shall have to wait, as for the next four days, (and fragments of days afterwards) this desk shall be the official site of frenzied studying.
To take our minds away from the looming madness, for at least a moment, let us hark back to simpler days, and remember the joy of “Library Lessons.”
It is difficult to remember a time when whole lessons, or double lessons could be whiled away with a good book. They would begin in silence, with the class seriously contemplating the symbolism in “Tracy Beaker,” the underlying message in “Dizzy Lizzy,” and the world issues addressed in “Uncanny.” Then, one person would whisper a question to the next, the person sitting opposite would answer…the sound level would escalate so consistently that it would be possible to graph. The next thing we knew, a shelf would be lying on the floor, the books having been assisted in their bid for escape by a wayward elbow. The ensuing “SHHHHHH!!!” would bring dead silence, and the process would start again…
This was not always the case for these lessons however, because about once a term, the peacefulness of this process would be broken up by the violent struggle, known as a “Book Introduction.”
Once in a while, a well-intending teacher would sit us all down with a large stack of books, and for that lesson, give us an outline of the plots and storylines, with the idea that we’d select one, then happily go off and read it.
NOT THE CASE!!!
Innocently scattered around the library, we would all listen intently to the presentation. Book upon Book would be described, explained, advertised, then put onto the table. Inevitably, the teacher would come to “The One Book” that would capture at least 73% of the classes attention. After, that, this percentage were deaf to the attempts of other novels, and instead, focused all their attentions on strategies to get to the book first. Girls in the seats would be dejected, knowing that they didn’t stand a change, lest they sacrifice all dignity and lunge across the room at first opportunity. Girls sitting at the table would be more tense. Out of the five or six seated, they would all be painfully aware that the book was there for the taking, if only they could reach there first. However, this had to be done subtly, in order to avoid embarrassment if you failed in your task. Smiling at each other through their teeth, they would edge their hands, slowly, slowly, towards the book, a difficult task, as the rules of engagement dictate that you must never, never break eye contact with your opponent. VICTORY! One would get her hand on the book, and smugly start to pull it towards herself, while the others looked away sheepishly, in an attempt to appear nonchalant. It would always be at this point that the teacher would look up, and take the book back saying something along the lines of “wait until the end.” Thwarted, the ex-victor would sulk for the remainder of the lesson, as hope returned to the hearts of her class-mates.
Though reminiscing, as though this is a phenomena long grown out of, truly, this still happens now. Take for example the English Studies lesson at the end of Semester one, though this particular process was much more complex than it was in the past, seeing as we are now “mature” and so, out of necessity, levels of subtlety have increased exponentially…However, this is not a bad thing, showing that, at heart, we’re still the care-free, exam-less, reckless shelf wrecking, eleven year olds we once were.
Good luck with exam revision everyone!
Friday, November 25, 2005
Saturday, November 19, 2005
Where has all the Butter gone?
One day, maybe I will have spent the past week building a house, or something else along those lines, so then I can feel justified in saying, both literally and metaphorically: “It’s been a riveting week.” But, seeing as this hasn't been the case, I just won't say anything on the matter. Infact, I'm going to say nothing whatsoever...
...except for all this.
These past seven days haven’t been a proper week anyway, mainly because we didn’t have an assembly! Instead, there was a split double, the best kind, in which you have a lesson, escape, and then, like an iron filing with your domains lining up, there you are, pressed against a piece of projection paper, being clutched by a permanent magnet. (you can never take a metaphor too far) Annoying.
So, this leads me to remember something. Something strange, mysterious, puzzling, and most of all… irksome! The way things seem to miraculously disappear, then appear again.
This has happened many times in my life. You’ll have something. You’ll know exactly where it is. There is no question that it will not be there when you look for it, because there’s nowhere else it could possibly be. So why is it that the moment that you need it, it will be as though the object in question has ceased to exist? It’s just illogical.
Take for example one such occasion which happened in the not so distant past. On this day, we were young, naieve, and on the cusp of Darcyism. Some others and I were out for lunch, and were called upon to go and order our drinks. Simple enough. We went forward in a huddled mass, and one by one in varying levels of confidence, 0 being me, and 10 being able to order coherently, we stated what we wanted. I was rewarded with a glass containing a straw which I then set down at our empty table. I stood some more, then, upon receiving my drink/corrosive, went back to the table.
Egads! The straw was gone!!! Thoughts whizzed through my mind: it could have nowt to do with leaping straws and their comrades, as it is common knowledge that they need a liquid and buoyancy to assist them. So, maybe someone had brushed past it, and the straw had fallen onto the floor? Despite looking all around, the straw was nowhere to be seen!!! Had it “crossed the boundary?” or had some stingy, straw deprived soul, nicked it from my glass? Whatever the case, it was gone.
However, a new straw was employed, and crisis averted, recovery from the appaling shock had started. But then, this strange day took another unexpected turn…
There was a bread basket, as logic follows, and with it were those little packets of butter. I’d taken mine, coated my bread with half of the contents, then, like a fool, looked away for one moment. Biiiig mistake. I turned around, looked next to the plate and discovered: THE BUTTER HAD GONE! Shock, disbelief, and bewilderment was soon quashed by pizza. The episode had been all but forgotten about, when, suddenly, the butter resurfaced stuck to the back of a birthday present…GAH!
Anyways, so now I hope that if any of you see any mysterious, stealthy, long coated people literally “grasping at straws” you’ll know what lies in store for those who do not watch their empty glasses…
...except for all this.
These past seven days haven’t been a proper week anyway, mainly because we didn’t have an assembly! Instead, there was a split double, the best kind, in which you have a lesson, escape, and then, like an iron filing with your domains lining up, there you are, pressed against a piece of projection paper, being clutched by a permanent magnet. (you can never take a metaphor too far) Annoying.
So, this leads me to remember something. Something strange, mysterious, puzzling, and most of all… irksome! The way things seem to miraculously disappear, then appear again.
This has happened many times in my life. You’ll have something. You’ll know exactly where it is. There is no question that it will not be there when you look for it, because there’s nowhere else it could possibly be. So why is it that the moment that you need it, it will be as though the object in question has ceased to exist? It’s just illogical.
Take for example one such occasion which happened in the not so distant past. On this day, we were young, naieve, and on the cusp of Darcyism. Some others and I were out for lunch, and were called upon to go and order our drinks. Simple enough. We went forward in a huddled mass, and one by one in varying levels of confidence, 0 being me, and 10 being able to order coherently, we stated what we wanted. I was rewarded with a glass containing a straw which I then set down at our empty table. I stood some more, then, upon receiving my drink/corrosive, went back to the table.
Egads! The straw was gone!!! Thoughts whizzed through my mind: it could have nowt to do with leaping straws and their comrades, as it is common knowledge that they need a liquid and buoyancy to assist them. So, maybe someone had brushed past it, and the straw had fallen onto the floor? Despite looking all around, the straw was nowhere to be seen!!! Had it “crossed the boundary?” or had some stingy, straw deprived soul, nicked it from my glass? Whatever the case, it was gone.
However, a new straw was employed, and crisis averted, recovery from the appaling shock had started. But then, this strange day took another unexpected turn…
There was a bread basket, as logic follows, and with it were those little packets of butter. I’d taken mine, coated my bread with half of the contents, then, like a fool, looked away for one moment. Biiiig mistake. I turned around, looked next to the plate and discovered: THE BUTTER HAD GONE! Shock, disbelief, and bewilderment was soon quashed by pizza. The episode had been all but forgotten about, when, suddenly, the butter resurfaced stuck to the back of a birthday present…GAH!
Anyways, so now I hope that if any of you see any mysterious, stealthy, long coated people literally “grasping at straws” you’ll know what lies in store for those who do not watch their empty glasses…
Saturday, November 12, 2005
Rocks Rolled by Skirty People
“…and so it came to pass; both were banishéd, to the dusty, dank depths.”
Today has been one momentous occasion after another. (exaggeration is fun) It began as all Sundays do, by awaking to find oneself in charge of a metal army, both pronged and serrated, directing them to smother and divide a pancake land as one sees fit.
Pancakes consumed, I looked out the window, with the innocence of someone expecting to see a green, empty oval. Instead: Rock and Roll Festival on Wigley Reserve!!! (though maybe should have twigged earlier from all the Elvis music…) There were cars, some of which were yellow (well, two) and three different dance floors. People were fully getting into it, some women wearing skirts, made from material for which 2 Pi r could be fully utilised, and which had high swishability factors.
However, this compares not to the shocking event that took place mere minutes later. For almost a year now, Johnny Depp, in all his, wearing a hat, black and white posterliness, has adorned my bedroom wall. Today however, he has been put on temporary hiatus!!! In a momentary lapse of awareness, it was decided that it was “time for a change,” and so ensued a temporary “change of guard.”
( Note: I’m not actually quoting anyone so why I’m using more than my fair share of quotation marks is mystifying, most of all to me.)
Now, for several hours, Orlando Bloom in all his colour and jewellery-ness, has been standing in pride of place. (For fun alternative sentence, replace “pride of” with “Johnny Depp’s”) I feel like the biggest traitor. Why, you may ask, when we all know that Depp is the clear favourite, did he get replaced by someone who was described by my father as “in need of a shave.”? (though he also used this description for Johnny Depp, but it was a good, dramatic way to end the previous sentence) Reasons abound. I didn’t want to get the first poster sun faded, it really was “time for a change,” there are already three other posters of him in my room…but truth be told, Orlando Bloom’s t-shirt is just so yellow! It’s hypnotizing. I challenge anyone to look at it and not turn into a bug around one of those blue zapper things. It’s inexplicable!
I still maintain that it’s only temporary, until either old, or new, Depp poster regains its rightful place.
But the story does not end here!
After a few hours of cleaning the house, in which both a vacuum was used to: 1) Clean the floor, and 2) Cause pain in my finger…damned rubber gloves…the Buffy and Spike poster, too, was removed from display...
This poster has been on my bookcase since year 8, however, nothing stands in the way of Darcyism, and it has now been moved, to make way for Pride and Prejudice. They have been banishéd. (though they were half obscured behind a shelf anyway, so it’s not as big a deal as the Johnny treason)
However, all in all it has been a strange day. Depp’s hidden in my wardrobe, Buffy and Spike are becoming acquainted with a “Once Upon a Time in Mexico” postcard who’s rooming with them in their display folder, and the rock rollers have gone, leaving a mass of orange wheelie bins congregating suspiciously on the reserve…
…well at least the kitchen floor got mopped.
Today has been one momentous occasion after another. (exaggeration is fun) It began as all Sundays do, by awaking to find oneself in charge of a metal army, both pronged and serrated, directing them to smother and divide a pancake land as one sees fit.
Pancakes consumed, I looked out the window, with the innocence of someone expecting to see a green, empty oval. Instead: Rock and Roll Festival on Wigley Reserve!!! (though maybe should have twigged earlier from all the Elvis music…) There were cars, some of which were yellow (well, two) and three different dance floors. People were fully getting into it, some women wearing skirts, made from material for which 2 Pi r could be fully utilised, and which had high swishability factors.
However, this compares not to the shocking event that took place mere minutes later. For almost a year now, Johnny Depp, in all his, wearing a hat, black and white posterliness, has adorned my bedroom wall. Today however, he has been put on temporary hiatus!!! In a momentary lapse of awareness, it was decided that it was “time for a change,” and so ensued a temporary “change of guard.”
( Note: I’m not actually quoting anyone so why I’m using more than my fair share of quotation marks is mystifying, most of all to me.)
Now, for several hours, Orlando Bloom in all his colour and jewellery-ness, has been standing in pride of place. (For fun alternative sentence, replace “pride of” with “Johnny Depp’s”) I feel like the biggest traitor. Why, you may ask, when we all know that Depp is the clear favourite, did he get replaced by someone who was described by my father as “in need of a shave.”? (though he also used this description for Johnny Depp, but it was a good, dramatic way to end the previous sentence) Reasons abound. I didn’t want to get the first poster sun faded, it really was “time for a change,” there are already three other posters of him in my room…but truth be told, Orlando Bloom’s t-shirt is just so yellow! It’s hypnotizing. I challenge anyone to look at it and not turn into a bug around one of those blue zapper things. It’s inexplicable!
I still maintain that it’s only temporary, until either old, or new, Depp poster regains its rightful place.
But the story does not end here!
After a few hours of cleaning the house, in which both a vacuum was used to: 1) Clean the floor, and 2) Cause pain in my finger…damned rubber gloves…the Buffy and Spike poster, too, was removed from display...
This poster has been on my bookcase since year 8, however, nothing stands in the way of Darcyism, and it has now been moved, to make way for Pride and Prejudice. They have been banishéd. (though they were half obscured behind a shelf anyway, so it’s not as big a deal as the Johnny treason)
However, all in all it has been a strange day. Depp’s hidden in my wardrobe, Buffy and Spike are becoming acquainted with a “Once Upon a Time in Mexico” postcard who’s rooming with them in their display folder, and the rock rollers have gone, leaving a mass of orange wheelie bins congregating suspiciously on the reserve…
…well at least the kitchen floor got mopped.
Saturday, November 05, 2005
Where is my cow?
The Amazing Leaping Straw has returned, this time more fiendish and buoyant than ever. Used now to its valiant attempts, I have become very adept at waylaying its efforts. However, this does not mean to say that it is possible to do so in a coordinated, and efficient manner.
So, having started the horror of this weekend by accidentally plunging my thumb into a glass of coke while in a public, grown-uppy type of place, I am now free to embark on this four day test of studiosity.
Right now it is a struggle.
In mere minutes I will stand and face the battle with “The Revision Guide,” a green, A4 representative of the psychological battalion of the Inanimate Objects crew, not emerging until Thursday evening…
…which leads me to ask: What on Earth was up with the trams today? Timetable: 2:40p.m, though whether this is: Tram arrives or Tram leaves is unclear. However, this is of little importance, because despite arriving at 2:38p.m, we were just in time to see it smarmily sneak (seventy sooty scarecrows suddenly south…sorry, had a slight burst of alliteration) up Jetty Road.
Though a whole week’s Quota (or possibly two) of exercise was used up in chasing it, still it managed to escape. However, halfway up Jetty Road another tram was spotted coming the other way, so there was time enough to retreat into an air-conditioned place to recover. Life’s fun like that.
Once recharged, having cheerily waved goodbye to tram and occupants, I was waylaid by a bookstore. (I swear, it stepped out in front of me and expanded its door so no matter where you went, you still ended up puzzled, perplexed, and picking up a book.) From there, a new Terry Pratchett book was discovered, and with it, a new favourite quote.
So, unable to get anymore convoluted and jumpy with topics, I close by saying:
So, having started the horror of this weekend by accidentally plunging my thumb into a glass of coke while in a public, grown-uppy type of place, I am now free to embark on this four day test of studiosity.
Right now it is a struggle.
In mere minutes I will stand and face the battle with “The Revision Guide,” a green, A4 representative of the psychological battalion of the Inanimate Objects crew, not emerging until Thursday evening…
…which leads me to ask: What on Earth was up with the trams today? Timetable: 2:40p.m, though whether this is: Tram arrives or Tram leaves is unclear. However, this is of little importance, because despite arriving at 2:38p.m, we were just in time to see it smarmily sneak (seventy sooty scarecrows suddenly south…sorry, had a slight burst of alliteration) up Jetty Road.
Though a whole week’s Quota (or possibly two) of exercise was used up in chasing it, still it managed to escape. However, halfway up Jetty Road another tram was spotted coming the other way, so there was time enough to retreat into an air-conditioned place to recover. Life’s fun like that.
Once recharged, having cheerily waved goodbye to tram and occupants, I was waylaid by a bookstore. (I swear, it stepped out in front of me and expanded its door so no matter where you went, you still ended up puzzled, perplexed, and picking up a book.) From there, a new Terry Pratchett book was discovered, and with it, a new favourite quote.
So, unable to get anymore convoluted and jumpy with topics, I close by saying:
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Life as a Gerbra Bearer
Preface
My Laptop is on Hiatus. I recommend typewriters to everyone. Not only do they make fun noises during celebrity spelling bees, but you also get to create your very own exclamation marks! As an added bonus, if you touch the tape, life begins to get very, very fingerprinty…
Three weeks have passed, and the majority of us have emerged on the other side as slightly different people. Some have become bearers of various flowers, symbolic of various roles, some people have gotten slightly older (well, in actuality, we’re all getting slightly older all the time…in the time it took me to write that, I too have aged vastly) There’s been the beginning of exams, and much saying of “Dui Bu Qi, wo bu zhi dao” a.k.a. “I’m sorry, I don’t know. Korean soap operas translated into Cantonese, then into Mandarin have been watched for “revisical purposes,” and, possibly most significantly of all, there has been: watching of Pride and Prejudice, reading of Pride and Prejudice, talking about Pride and Prejudice, rewinding and fast-forwarding of Mary Bryant to see ad for Pride and Prejudice. I fear if this continues for much longer, there will be “Severe Pride and Prejudice induced bashing” quickly curtailed by the contagious bouts of “Darcyism.”
…also some horse won some race.
But what is the most important thing that has happened thus far? Is it the looming dawn of a position of responsibility and leadership within the school? Is it the developing talent of balancing work with play? Is it remembering to change your Gerbera’s water? Alas! No, it is none of the above. It is: realising the irony that on most bottles of correction fluid, the product inside is proclaimed to be “Wite-out.” Clever advertising method, or just pure, blatent, and traditional: what-the?-ism? A question unlikely to be answered, but yet allowed me to use two question marks over three letters and a symbol!
So in closing: “Look at Mars!!! It’s red and visible and in the sky… all this month!
...and no, I am not going to talk about the aggression that is me vs. badminton…GAH!
My Laptop is on Hiatus. I recommend typewriters to everyone. Not only do they make fun noises during celebrity spelling bees, but you also get to create your very own exclamation marks! As an added bonus, if you touch the tape, life begins to get very, very fingerprinty…
Three weeks have passed, and the majority of us have emerged on the other side as slightly different people. Some have become bearers of various flowers, symbolic of various roles, some people have gotten slightly older (well, in actuality, we’re all getting slightly older all the time…in the time it took me to write that, I too have aged vastly) There’s been the beginning of exams, and much saying of “Dui Bu Qi, wo bu zhi dao” a.k.a. “I’m sorry, I don’t know. Korean soap operas translated into Cantonese, then into Mandarin have been watched for “revisical purposes,” and, possibly most significantly of all, there has been: watching of Pride and Prejudice, reading of Pride and Prejudice, talking about Pride and Prejudice, rewinding and fast-forwarding of Mary Bryant to see ad for Pride and Prejudice. I fear if this continues for much longer, there will be “Severe Pride and Prejudice induced bashing” quickly curtailed by the contagious bouts of “Darcyism.”
…also some horse won some race.
But what is the most important thing that has happened thus far? Is it the looming dawn of a position of responsibility and leadership within the school? Is it the developing talent of balancing work with play? Is it remembering to change your Gerbera’s water? Alas! No, it is none of the above. It is: realising the irony that on most bottles of correction fluid, the product inside is proclaimed to be “Wite-out.” Clever advertising method, or just pure, blatent, and traditional: what-the?-ism? A question unlikely to be answered, but yet allowed me to use two question marks over three letters and a symbol!
So in closing: “Look at Mars!!! It’s red and visible and in the sky… all this month!
...and no, I am not going to talk about the aggression that is me vs. badminton…GAH!
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