Champing At The Bit

Roll on Friday, when I will be deadline and exam-free.

I figure that, of late, I have not been performing my duty and updating you, followers & readers, on the happenings of year 13. So basically, here we are, week something-rather of term two. It is one of what I deem to be the Three Great Bottlenecks which occur during the school year. The entire first term is basically quite breezy -- sure, they put a little bit of pressure on ya, just to keep you focused -- and the occasional internal assessment manages to provoke a little bit of customary school-related stress here and there -- but overall it's a walk in the park. Then you go on holiday for a couple of weeks, and forget to do any of that planned "preparatory work" that you decided would put you in a comfy position in time for exams. All is well and good when you return, except a slight nagging sense of impending doom. This nagging sensation grows and, by week six or... is it seven... exams are suddenly upon you. And by upon you, I mean straddling you, slamming your forehead into a computer screen (filled with various websites which are all quite unrelated to any of your subjects) and screaming "DEADLINES!"

Because, if you're a bleeding fool like me, this is also the time when all the art subjects decide to have major assignments due. As I am taking both painting AND design, I have 20 credits' worth of work due on Wednesday & Thursday... that's a third of the (minimum) amount of credits I have to get this year. Plus these stupid mock exams. And the thing is, I can't even cast them off as insignificant, because they may end up counting towards something.

So after I've handed in all my assignment work and done my three exams, (media, English, French) consisting of a total of five essays, we will enter Lull Number Two, a deceptive window between Bottleneck One and Bottleneck Two. For us media students, it will be filled with an ongoing, consistently vague panic over trying to finish our documentaries. In art, we will no doubt begin our end-of-year portfolios at a dangerously leisurely pace, misjudging the length of time until the final, massive deadline at the end of term three. For some reason, even though this is my third year of doing art, I know it will be the same... It always, always is.

I thought that I would dread the end of high-school but I don't feel that way anymore. I am ready to leave. That doesn't mean I won't feel nostalgic and cry heaps throughout that last week of term four! But it does mean that I'm "over it" in a sense, and I guess I am looking forward to some changes. Some.

My life plan has gone through a trial period of a few months' thinking and thus I have reached a conclusion (I think) which entails going Auckland University next year and doing a conjoint degree in arts and fine arts. I will do the first semester and then travel for the second. I think I have already mentioned this in several places throughout this blog, but you know. Changes come.

Women Of The World

You should know that my brother Luke is a very desirable, considerate, multi-talented young man to have around. The acid test is in the boy's reaction to a situation such as when, for example, a girl has cramps that could knock a moose over, (nature's way of saying "You think this is bad, wait till you give birth"), and returns home from her friend's sister's wedding early because she thinks she might hurl on their immaculately decorated tables. Okay, so that's not just an example. Now Luke's reaction was not to retreat, attempting to rid himself of the nightmarish, mysterious visions that most poor males must conjure when faced with the idea of a girl's monthly "cycle" -- but instead, he offered me a bacon sandwich, a hot water bottle, and a milo. Which I gratefully accepted of course, getting straight into bed. How wonderful is that? And he's only fourteen. Imagine how much more sensitive and thoughtful and kind he will yet become. So if you're looking for a man, remember your standards, ladies. Don't settle for anything less.

Back Online

So I took a week off the Internet, for experimental purposes. I had hoped it would make me more productive -- in fact I spent ages re-organising iTunes: ascribing album art to songs and artists that didn't have any, deleting repeat songs and sorting out playlists. I organised all my saved files, found some writing scraps and reminded myself that not all of my old poetry was bad. (To qualify as "old", a piece of writing needs only to have been written two weeks ago.) I didn't, however, make much headway into my work.

Exactly two weeks from today, I have exams. These are just "practice" exams, or mid-years, but unfortunately I also have four massive art assignments (worth 20 credits in total) due at the same time. Today I am feeling not-so-bad about that, as I did three backgrounds for paintings today. But don't let that fool you... there's a lot more to do.

Not to mention our documentary, which we are now filming. Apparently we have to finish filming before exams (two weeks!) which is very likely not going to happen... After school we will be going into the city centre to interview passers-by on social networking and how our lives are becoming increasingly "virtual". Hopefully we get a lot of useful stuff, and the weather/technology doesn't crap out on us.

Alright, so if I was able to exercise the will to avoid the Internet for seven days, surely I can will myself to write those practice essays, go on a painting frenzy, make some awesome design work, and I don't know, be generally amazing. Surely.

Patron Saint Of Motivation, Please Help Me

All the things I have to do by tomorrow are very urgent.

So Today, I Succumbed

to the temptation that has been calling me for a few weeks now. Eva and I went to the cinema (with lots of LAHLEES) and we watched Dear John. Now before you judge me, I'll have you know that my taste in films is really good! It is! I'm into arty film-festival films, I like espionage thrillers, I like films with subtitles! So allow me this, this one romantic drama tear-jerker. By the same guy who wrote The Notebook... (which I also loved.)

And I'm not about to hide the fact that I cried. I cried so hard! (And Eva.) And if you scoff at that or smugly nurse feelings of condescension, then I encourage you to go and watch it. And if you're the type who doesn't cry at movies then clearly you have no soul, and I can't help you with that.