Well, I wanted to get one more post in before the turn of the decade.

Please note: if this post is horrible, rambling, ungrammatical or in any other way offensive, I apologise in advance.

First of all, this article is very cute, you all ought to go read it.

Hmmm, clichéd as it sounds, I can't believe it's New Year's Eve already. I suppose it shouldn't be that much of a surprise, given that I can't even remember what went on this time last year. Actually, I can recall New Year’s Eve of 1999 with more clarity, even though nothing really happened. All I really remember is dozing off on the living room floor in front of the TV, waking a few minutes after 12 AM, and feeling mildly disappointed that I hadn’t managed to stay awake for that particular countdown. I was 6, and very little was important back then. When I was a few years older, I reflected that I was probably lucky to have been alive and vaguely cognizant during the turn of the... millennium? but the passing of time didn’t matter much then, either. At 16, it seems much more significant. I’m not a geriatric I swear, and this has more to do with my own parochial life than with humanity in general. Still, unless someone lives in complete isolation, surely their experiences reflect upon mankind as a whole.

Between the ages of 6 and, perhaps, 10, my interests dwelt with friends, toys and books. Pretty typical of a kid, really. There was the origami, the gemstones, Redwall, Harry Potter and Deltora.

School was fun but rarely stimulating, all music save classical was for losers, and my family were still cool. Watching documentaries was a great pastime, and I tried (and failed) to start a diary about 3 times. No one I didn’t know meant anything, except perhaps some famous dead people. September 11 was relegated to that morning when my muzzy mind registered that something was amiss.

Our trip to Bali was particularly memorable. We spent 40 minutes bargaining for a ring that cost 25000 rupiah, the equivalent of $5. We went parasailing, and I fell off a jet ski. All this, of course, before the Bali bombings.

I gleefully memorized the names of the two bugs that were said to be polluting Sydney’s tap water, though I still have no idea how to spell them.

I was beyond spoilt, and the only person who seemed to notice was my eldest sister. That was probably instrumental in the breakdown of her relationship with my parents, come to think of it.

So, what changed? Well, school, for one thing. Opportunity Class was/is not a crime, but it certainly challenged. I was no longer pampered and popular, no longer the smartest kid in the class, no longer assured in the knowledge that I had loyal friends. I spent lunchtimes huddled in a corner of the playground, feeling simultaneously invisible and glaringly conspicuous. School work was taxing, I made mistakes and my teachers never refrained from providing constructive criticism. Criticism? Who needed that?

From this angle, it was a character building experience. The world, I discovered, did not revolve around me. Fancy that! Nor, I realized, did possession of an oversized ego do me any favours.

11 to 15 was the era of music and males. The former came packaged with blindy interaction, the perfect antidote to my disastrous school life. You, if any of you are reading this, were a fascinating and occasionally friendly lot. Crude, intimidating, patronizing but somehow... I couldn’t stay away from you. Though I was too young and immature to be taken seriously, I didn’t know it then.

Music was Michael Buble and Kelly Clarkson, Avril Lavigne and Evanescence. Later, it was Crowded House and The Whitlams, Aled Jones, Chopin. Music brought people together, it divided the diehards into their little cliques, it was stirring and relaxing, it was cathartic and didactic. Above all, it was fun. Plus, I loved my disorganized music library, relegated though it was to a 5-digit number to be shoved in people’s faces at opportune moments.

When I was around 12, the ‘crush’ developed into something more intense, and from there everything just went downhill. I was endowed with a healthy dose of skepticism where all things love-related were concerned, this evaporated at the onset of adolescence.

As I fumbled my way into acceptance at high school and the blindy melodrama abated somewhat, I became afflicted with that debilitating and rather inconvenient ailment known as ‘love’. Don’t laugh, it did all sorts of horrible things to my head!

Well, after wasting 2-3 years of my life chasing a couple of people and dabbling more than briefly in the art of reciprocation, I have been granted another dose of skepticism, this time of all things longevity-related. Aah, such is life.

(Footnote: all relevant emotions have been suppressed for brevity’s sake, and to preserve the reputation of yours truly).

So whilst several countries were being screwed over by Mr. Bush’s fictitious WMDs and the world was cowering from bird flu and Sars, I matured. Still as self-centred as ever, of course, few teenagers aren’t.

I discovered the internet, in all its potentially catastrophic splendor. Wikipedia became my new best friend, I managed to keep a rambling journal half alive and I grabbed a Facebook account at least a year before it became popular. I even have a folder of favourited YouTube videos, and it has about 200 links in it! I succumbed to the Twitter frenzy, but I never, ever fell victim to Myspace. Even so, I am undeniably a digital native.

2007, enter politics. Australian Liberal Party FTW, or something. Aah, what a fool I was. I knew the facts (or some of them), I just didn’t know myself. And to think I supported John Howard in the federal election... Don’t worry all you dyed-in-the-wool lefties, I was censured for it by at least three people.

Fanfiction came and went. I read about 10 Harry’s dating 10 different chicks in 10 alternate universes, before Sword of Truth provided some variety and another Christmas rolled around.

Miriani, the only game I was ever addicted to. I squandered literally hundreds of hours on it, almost became romantically attached to one of the characters, had my dreams shattered by Drew Anderson, and earned the trust of the most proficient pilot in the galaxy. Not bad for 6 months’ intensive gameplay, no?

And as the global economy crumbled and the United States found its first black president, I was finally becoming aware of everything! By everything, I mean current affairs and politics, poverty and the trade disparity, systemic abuses of human rights and Uncle Sam’s real agenda. Work choice laws were for those narcissistic, egocentric fatcats, climate change was going to kill everyone tomorrow and the Iraq war? Puh-leez!

2009: the most dynamic year yet. 2006 came a close second, but it can’t beat the following:

• Having a life changing experience. Over the space of one weekend


• Receiving two of the most fantabulously awesome birthday cards ever


• Having both parents forget one’s 16th birthday!


• Watching one’s social circle disintegrate, and being powerless to stop the process


• Rubbing shoulders with some of the most creative, intelligent and inspiring individuals in the country


• Reading two newspapers. Regularly.


• Pulling wayyyyyy too many all-nighters for the sake of those damned assignments


• Learning to master the essay! ‘Nuff said


• Studying for an exam. Actually studying! Properly!


• Reading for the sake of reading


• Loathing oneself with such intensity that the result is irrepressible sobbing


• Loving school


• Looking forward to the future.

So, 2019. I’ll be 26, with any luck I’ll have graduated from uni, and chances are I’ll have forgotten all about this post. Will I be married? Sure hope not. Will I be happy with my lot? Who knows?

And what about the rest of the world? What about the elements of life that really matter, those I have no control over? Will anyone be on track for their 2020 carbon emissions reduction targets? Will there even be any targets? Will absolute poverty be reduced? Will the Afghan war be in the history books yet?

At this point, the frivolous discussion taking place between a dozen adults in the next room is looking very inviting. As is the guacamole sitting in front of me, and the prospect of not having to think. Enjoy the result of yesterday’s ‘Oh my God, 2010? Not already!’ moment. Happy New Year, everyone! May you break every resolution you never made.

Aah, life

Some people are so... nice. Nice doesn’t do them justice. Lovely isn’t quite right either, kind is a better descriptor. I was telling Mevandi and Amanpreet about the special provisions (i.e. extra time) I get for exams, and about how some high-ranking official type people decide on the amount of time at a board meeting each year. And the immediate response I got was a concerned comment along the lines of, “Oh, but what if they don’t give you enough time?”

This probably sounds really stupid, but that reaction meant so much to me. It wasn’t at all patronising, nor was it the knee-jerk reaction of ‘You get extra time? But but but, doesn’t that give you an unfair advantage?’ that I’ve come to dread and half believe myself. It was just the manifestation of a... desire, I suppose, to achieve fairness and equality of opportunity. And this was at a school where competitiveness is our version of sexual frustration and every precious mark is fought for and prized.

Aah, yes, camp. I nearly forgot about it. Camp was... interesting, sorta, although only very select bits of it were particularly noteworthy. Frolicking on the grass was one of them, probably one of the most carefree hours I’ve had in months.

Oh, and there was also the predictable game of Truth or Dare (Truth or truth) in the middle of the night, during which we half-ashamedly divulged our silly little secrets about love, sex, parents and career paths to one another, by the intermittent light of a torch. We really were typical teenage girls, just for that one night. It was actually quite fun, focusing on something other than ATARs and university degrees. The kind of thing people versify and consequently immortalise, frivolous as it is.

Well, back to nerddom... my first Year 12 Economics assessment task is over. And I think something revolutionary happened! I think, I developed a nice, solid, possibly productive study pattern to follow! True, I developed it about 24 hours before the assessment task commenced, but hey! Study pattern! Desperate times call for desperate measures, in this case pulling my act together. And yes, desperate times was a very apt description of the situation. We had 3 chapters of the textbook to study for the exam, I only read Chapter 3 the day beforehand.

Anyway, my pattern is the following: 1 hour of note making/studying, 15 minute break, 1 hour of work, 15 minute break, etc etc. So on Sunday, I set alarms on my phone so as not to be tempted out of my routine, and during periods of study, sustained myself with the thought that I’d be able to relax for 15 minutes after a while. Whenever something distracted me, some random thought or urge to do something, I forcibly ejected it from my mind and re-focused on the work I had to do. I set myself goals, eg summarise 20 pages within the hour, and rewards, eg during your break, you can have a chocolate. The goals were not always achieved, but just having them firmly rooted in my mind helped so much, and gave me a reason to work as efficiently as possible.

And it really did work! Or was that just my adrenaline working wonders...

Either way, it’s over and I don’t think I screwed it up too badly. And God it feels wonderful to be bludging like the other ¾ of the grade. Word games, trivia, parties, political discussions and scabbing merits off awesome Drama/English teachers, that’s what school should be about.

Graduation Assembly tomorrow. I’m actually almost looking forward to it! As the year has progressed, I seem to have become increasingly fond of school. Ironically, by the time I leave Year 12, I will probably have become attached to it. Really, really attached.

BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING ME!

That’s what it feels like, anyway. So I’m not allowed to say anything defamatory or inflammatory, and The Establishment will be all happy and friendly. Yay for euphemisms and untruths and suppression of freedom of speech!!!!! Still think you should create a new blog, Dorgo, even though you don’t read this. Create it under a pseudonym, like Cookie did! Then you can say whatever you like, about whomever you please! Doesn’t that sound fun?

Yeah, I’m somewhat upset. Well, it had to happen some time, although 3.5 upsettings in 1 day is a little rough, don’t ya think?

Tact. Honesty. Tact. Honesty. Tact honesty tact honesty tact honesty honesty. Honesty. Honesty wins, and I lose. *Sigh. I suppose that’s what you get for letting a very select group of people influence you...

Aaron, you’re a jerk and I hate you and you deserve to be abolished. Like an orgasm! Un-nonchalant enough for you?

Also, if anyone else reads this, besides my 3 fairly constants, it is not not not not true that Owen and I have managed to raise 7 grand in 4 months and are just getting, quote bonus money unquote, from the school. Idiots. You try raising 7 grand in 4 months.

Yeah, that’s it.

Bits and Pieces

Things of note that happened today:

• Had ‘love’ written on her arm, by Ewy.


• Was told to take up bodybuilding by her English teacher.


• Completed the Computer Skills test in something like 23 minutes, had her condescending support teacher check her test for another 5 just to ensure she hadn’t accidentally missed a question, left her phone in the conference Room and had it returned by him during Drama. The conversation went something like this:
  Him: Where’s your phone? (Probably whilst brandishing it smugly)
  Me: Oh! Thanks. (Embarrassed)
  Him: *Laughs* It’s ok.
  Deva: Is he your father?
  Me: *Insulted* No! How could you say such a thing!


• Was molested by Praween, it was adorable.


• Assaulted Sean. With a fan.


• Said something that, according to Sneha, was “quotable”. I merely pointed out that Owen rhymes with Bowen (or however you spell it!)

And on a more serious note... a couple of days ago we received our English Yearly marks. First of all, kudos to both Noor and Sneha for each getting an A! You deserved them, considering the amount of work you put in. But the responses of certain individuals left a lot to be desired.

Suffice to say, Sneha received a less than desirable mark for her other essay, and was berated by her teacher for it. ‘If you’d done what I told you to do, that could’ve been a 15!’ Something along those lines. Firstly, considering the fact that the other mark was a 13, I think encouragement was in order rather than disparaging remarks like that. It’s a teacher’s duty to be encouraging, to offset the horrid influence of parents. That’s my reasoning, anyway. Also, I’ll wager I spent far more time critiquing her essays than he did, and I’m happy enough with the outcome. True, if she did horribly (which she didn’t), it wouldn’t reflect badly on me, but maybe he should provide more constructive criticism instead of just... criticism.

Teachers, teachers, teachers. I’m probably being too critical myself, but within the past year I think I’ve seen the very best and the very worst, and it’s really given me perspective.

Update: I was just watching the news on some channel or other, and a particularly lengthy item featured the latest ‘thing’ in America, ‘man-gagement rings’. Pathetic. That’s commercial television for you.

I have recently (i.e. within the past few hours) developed my own way of differentiating a friend from an acquaintance. IMO, it has nothing to do with shared interests, goals, beliefs, senses of humour, the ability to keep up a decent conversation, the frequency of contact, or how much you like/respect that person. Don’t get me wrong, I do believe those things are relevant, but I think what really matters is how you feel about interacting with them. A friend is someone to whom you can freely express your opinions, without fear of being censured. They might disagree with you, but you won’t be afraid of that.

Vaguely related, people can be so... bellicose sometimes, and it really upsets me. I simply do not see the point of being aggressive towards someone for expressing their opinion, particularly with regard to criticism. I’m sure I do it as well, but why must people become so caustic if someone disagrees with, criticises or in any way annoys/offends them? I’m not aiming this at anyone in particular, but a lot of people do it, including some of my friends. It’s really sad, because a lot of those who do it are those who champion freedom of thought, speech and expression, and they’re undermining their own ideals, seemingly without realising it. Come on guys, since when did a question like “Is he white?” warrant a diatribe against racism, small-mindedness and discrimination? Why must the doctrine of “freedom of thought” have, “as long as your thoughts don’t offend or marginalise one single person in the entire world”, appended to it? By instantly condemning someone for thinking homosexuality is wrong, are we really promoting understanding and intelligent thought?

And as for criticism, my God some people can be childishly oversensitive. If someone says something about you that you don’t necessarily agree with or like, perhaps take it with a little grace? If you genuinely think it’s unwarranted abuse, turning the other cheek now and then wouldn’t go astray either. Isn’t that better than degeneration into petty arguments? Often the outcome is even worse than that, particularly if the critic isn’t ready to fight back (I’m looking at you, Aaron) and cops a load from the person they weren’t trying to offend. I think it really is a particularly imperceptible form of bullying, and it’s quite disgusting. And there are so many people I could name who do it. So many. Half of them are friends (or, perhaps, acquaintances) of mine.

Hmmm... I wonder how many people will hate me for my opinions in one week’s time.

P.S: if you think you know to whom I’m referring, please don’t mention their names in a comment.

Attention!

Argh, I seem to be a completely contradictory person, but I just can’t stand it! Attention, that is. Sometimes I crave it, I’m as much of an attention whore (albeit a subtler one) as Ms Mac accuses our Drama class of collectively being. But too much attention just drives me crazy, and I don’t really understand why. The constant dogging, the well-meaning(?) solicitude, yes I’m mainly referring to parents here... I hate it because it makes me feel obligated to give back in some way, when sometimes I just want to be left to my own devices. And by sometimes, I mean a lot of the time. And I guess it makes me feel guilty because they have no idea, and then sometimes I find myself thinking that they know exactly what they’re doing, but they know they can get away with it and still look like well-meaning individuals and... aaaah, raaaaant. But too much attention is worse than too little, because it makes me feel guilty as well as frustrated and trapped. Am I oversensitive? Perhaps, but maybe it’s just extremes that I hate. Isn’t that fair enough?

On a completely different note, yesterday I was reflecting upon how we’ve all changed since year 7. And I was really amazed to realise how much some people have matured, over the years. Some have become less judgmental, some are more cooperative and/or less oversensitive, some are just generally nicer to people. There were a lot of people I knew back in years 7 and 8, a lot of things that happened, a lot of attitudes that I didn’t like. And all of those things have changed so very much. Alongside myself, my actions and my attitudes, no doubt, although I’m not able to evaluate my persona with the same level of objectivity. I find it a bit disconcerting that I’m able to make such observations about my fellow classmates, I thought only mentors, parents and older siblings were capable of/prone to doing that. Still, it’s nice to see how our grade has panned out, so to speak.

You know what I want to find? Or... who I want to find, rather. A person in our grade who isn’t disliked by anyone else in the grade. And the sad thing is, I don’t think such a person exists. I find it so frustrating when people dislike each other for the pettiest of reasons... I think it was Cynthia who brought up the same point the other day. Who cares if someone likes to talk to a certain teacher, or hates a certain movie, or can’t play a certain game, or wears their hair a certain way... I can’t believe such intelligent people still think in those terms.

Oh, and I’d also be interested to find this supposedly *hooooot* student teacher, the tall one everyone is harping on about... bet he’s unintelligent or an arrogant jerk or something. :D

And social dancing is over! Funny thing is, it was quite horrible, but I have a feeling I’ll kinda miss it... just a little bit. Not necessarily the blundering around with guys who were basically as clueless as I was (not mentioning any names), but possibly the simpler Samba. There was something vaguely... exhilarating about madly flinging oneself around an inner circle of partners, stumbling through the sweaty frenzy of movements, the awkward, inappropriate and clearly contrived intimacy... something crazy, primal almost. It wasn’t sexual or anything like that, I guess it was just interesting. And exhausting.

And now, time for some horrid Maths homework!

Raaaant

You know what I really really want? Just to be able to sit down and lose myself in a book for 4 or 5 hours. Without having to worry about the time I’ll lose, time that would and should have been spent doing that homework or starting that assignment or revising for that exam or practising piano or...

Because yesterday, I realised that I can’t do that. No, I’m not talking about the physical plausibility of it, I did end up listening to about half of Angels and Demons (don’t judge me, you horrible judgemental people!). I’m talking about my mentality. As soon as I even began to consider the idea of just... dropping everything and reading, my mind’s knee-jerk reaction was to create a mental ‘to do’ list: piano practice, Maths and Eco homework, speech and drama, sponsorship letter writing, drama monologue... I’ll stop before I bore you all away from this webpage.

And it wasn’t as if I wanted to sleep, or lounge around and watch ditsy Aussie soaps on TV, or mindlessly play RPG computer games, I wanted to read a bloody novel! And my work mentality wouldn’t even let me do that in good conscience. God, what is our wonderful academic school doing to us? At what point does ‘persevere’ become ‘get a damn life and stop thinking about those stupid useless marks’? Unforgiving percentage points, denoting our value as academic assets to the world. Cold numbers that say nothing, nothing, nothing! About one’s honesty, loyalty, sense of justice.

And what do we even learn from it all? How to write out a memorised 1000 word essay in 40 minutes? How to cram facts, expel and then forget them? How to curtail expression, regulate creativity, observe conventions, do exactly as they say so they’ll give us our little pieces of paper with those meaningless numbers on them? What does school encourage, what does it foster within students, what do we learn? We don’t learn how to think, we learn what to think.

Rebellion would feel so good, but not many brave it. We rant and rave and rage about the injustice, the pointlessness of it all, and then we settle down and meekly accept our rewards, spoils of the feast we crave. Content to snap at the morsels offered us.

Aah the poetry, gotta love it.

If I were to treat someone a certain way, does it logically follow that there’s a reason for that treatment? Perhaps not a valid reason, or a reason that’s readily clear to everyone else, but a reason nonetheless. And if that were to be dealt with, would the (less than respectful) treatment cease? Or are people irrational enough for that not to be the case, do we simply act upon unrelated whims? Is the rationalisation of everything merely an attempt to justify unwarranted actions? I really don’t know, how I wish I did.

So much for inwardly swearing not to neglect this thing! Hehehe I haven’t even been studying terribly much, (not as much as I planned to anyway), so I have no excuse.

Study groups are the awesomest invention ever. Study sessions over MSN are particularly useful, as they’re amusing (IM conversations involving 6 people generally are) and beneficial. A lot more engaging than just reading over notes a billion times, anyway.
Sneha was awesome and tested everyone (I.e. Niro, Kausthub, Durga, Aaron, Sean and me) on essentially everything we’ve learnt in Science over the past two years, or everything we’re supposed to have learnt, anyway. As you can imagine, it took many hours. Not least because we spent half the time repeating one another, arguing and chatting inanely. Kausthub then distilled the conversation into usable notes and emailed them around, he and Aaron offered up some History notes, Sneha gave us all Geo notes and I critiqued three people’s English essays. Which, (perhaps embarrassingly), I found fun. The cooperation, enjoyment and most of all the sense of camaraderie were all really lovely, and as Kausthub put it, why did we not have these convos before!

For those (very few) people who read this, would you classify Baulko a public school? I certainly wouldn’t call it private, but it’s not your typical comprehensive. I don’t know. I was having an argument with a friend’s Mum the other day (yes, I know, bit odd), over public schooling. She was basically putting public schools down, making all these defamatory assertions about the calibre of their populace etc. Yeah, sex, drugs and alcohol. To justify herself, she said that she realises not all public school kids indulge in that sort of behaviour, but she wouldn’t trust her kids not to get caught up by the peer pressure and whatnot. Because, she stated, 13 to 17 year olds aren’t mature or experienced enough to have good judgement. Which then led to an argument about age discrimination/prejudice, I still insist that maturity often has little to do with age. Those sorts of generalisations annoy me greatly, the blatant discrimination of today. Anyway...

*Returns from a major nosebleed* I think I’ll post this, now.

Social Experiment

After school today, I received a lecture from my mother. What about? My screwy work ethic, of course. What else? My shocking time skills, laziness and general ineptitude. How much was true? Probably close on to every word. Would’ve made me angry on any other day, but I guess I was too tired to be angry today. I’ve spent the past few days, weeks, months, basically shunning everyone and everything, sleep included, for my work. The reward? A screaming parent, of course. I just sort of sat there. Feeling... a bit upset, and a bit empty. It’s getting to the point where I don’t really listen anymore, don’t care. It’s easier to tune out. Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?

So anyway, I was thinking. If I suddenly started to hit the books, really hard, what would my mother’s reaction be? If I studied for 12 hours a day, every day during the holidays, never talked to anyone, never went out or socialised, what would she say? Would she praise me? No doubt, for the first few days. But would she see the deleterious long-term effects, or would she be too caught up by the intoxicating prospect of seeing me attain “decent” marks for everything? The results of would be fascinating, and telling. Do I have the stamina to try it, I wonder?

Graduation assembly! Completely unrelated, I know. The musical performances rocked, as per usual, and speeches of outgoing captains were very entertaining. Oddly enough though, the one thing I remember with clarity has absolutely nothing to do with the farewell itself.

So somehow or other, Kenneth got his hands on an assembly programme. Didn’t quite hear the full story, but everyone got really really excited about it. Inordinately so! So much so that they were all demanding to see the programme and whatnot, and of course he said no. Obvious solution? Snatch it off him, pass it around, ignore his requests to have it returned.

I’m not too sure why I found it quite so distressing. It was a stupid assembly programme, had little significance to us. But the only reason people completely disregarded him was because... well, because he’s Kenneth. You know what the crucial difference between him and me is? He’s a loser, I’m a blind loser. Being a jerk to someone who has a disability is socially unacceptable. Go figure.

For perhaps the last half hour of walking during sport today, my head felt like it would explode. It was an interesting experience really, but not one I’d like to relive. Of course, it didn’t help that we only stopped to rest for about... 7 minutes or something, but I’ve decided that to save myself some grief, I should start exercising. This will probably consist of seriously considering using the treadmill for about a week without actually doing so, before the blasé relapse into my 6 hours a day of computerised catatonia. A token effort, no?

On a somewhat amusing note, English has, within the space of about 5 days, managed to become my least favourite subject. It’s amazing to realise just how much difference teachers make, the one thing that really gets me is when they’re just, just just just plain disrespectful? I’m probably displaying a rather inflated sense of self-worth in saying that, but the hierarchy within schools is really quite vexing. OK, so as students we might know less than them, seeing as they are supposed to be teaching us. But I think I’d be right in saying that we’re not stupid, and most of the time we don’t deserve to be treated like dirt. If they respect us, we respect them. Generally it’s that simple.

Amongst teachers, there are the Feudalists and the Progressives and the generic moderates, almost like politics actually. Funny that. I guess once you’ve met someone who’s at least 20 years older than you, has the power to make your life hell yet grants you the same level of respect as they would any adult, it’s hard to hold the Feudalists in any kind of regard. Moral of the last two paragraphs? Making peace with the Establishment is a load of crap.

P.S: the year 10 History curriculum is stupid.

So I was talking to a friend of mine the other day. About catharsis, no not the bowel-related catharsis. We were discussing the hardships faced by young, healthy, intelligent 16-year-olds, aka the doldrums of exams, social politics and adolescence in general. And I guess the concensus was that presenting one’s views to the world might just be a really good way of dealing with all that. Basically. XD

Those of us who take Economics have just completed our Preliminary HSC course in one subject. Quite apart from the fact that yesterday’s exam embodied the culmination of three terms’ worth of hard work, (something which I... personally never seem to appreciate when it comes to other subjects), it really makes you aware of the transience of things. In two years’ time... no I don’t think I’m quite ready to face all that yet.

Oh and did I mention that we started the year 12 Eco course today? Because of an anticipated shortage of lessons next term? Maaaan, life. One’s teenage years are supposed to be about singing and fighting and watching stupid YouTube videos (aka this afternoon), not completing endless assignments, tallying marks and studying for exams that have essentially no bearing on our lives whatsoever.

"Our gross national product does not allow for the health of our children, the quality of their education, or the joy of their play. It does not include the beauty of our poetry or the strength of our marriages, the intelligence of our public debate or the integrity of our public officials. It measures neither our wit nor our courage, neither our wisdom nor our learning, neither our compassion nor our devotion to our country; it measures everything, in short, except that which makes life worth while." - Robert F.Kennedy

(Lifted that from someone’s FB profile, isn’t it awesome though?)

Pointless blog post number 1.