99

That's the countdown now. I know several people are upset with me for reminding them so frequently how many days are left but they will have to deal with it. =P Hi Nandita.

Tonight is Karina's 18th! It's a glow-in-the-dark party. She bought 300 glowsticks for $16.

We got excellence for our documentary! Tomorrow I'm going to BurgerFuel with Jennecca and Alex to celebrate. BurgerFuel kept us going in the early stages... we're repaying them with our patronage. I am really hungry right now actually and BurgerFuel would really hit the spot. Hm.

So yeah I think it's a fairly full weekend, might update on Sunday night. CIAO.

My Ruminations On Life, And What I'm Presently Doing

The countdown is at 102 days. I'll be super excited when it gets into double digits.

Last night I went to bed too late after having a big "discussion" with my parents, and then performing my nightly ritual (a quick/not-so-quick game of Plants vs Zombies on my iPod) which quickly became rather addictive as I passed a few new levels. I actually think I'm developing a bit of RSI in my right hand, because the tendons feel funny and sore. Maybe that's what we're destined for, as the texting/internetting generation! Oh dear! So many exciting new evolutionary issues we are yet to face. Another thing I can complain about is my sore back, which is largely to do with appalling posture, which is due to tiredness, which is due to lack of sleep, which is due to... Plants vs Zombies. That game will be the slow, painful crippling of me.

So I got out of bed very late, giving myself twenty minutes to get ready and go next door (my neighbour is a family friend, and she takes us to school on her way to work to relieve my dad) which was pushing it a little, especially as I was so zombified from my meagre five hours or something. Five hours may be an insomniac's dream, but to the average teenager, it's torture. I got myself some breakfast, which consisted of leftover berries from Linda's birthday brunch the day before, and some Greek yoghurt. So then I sort of chucked things in my bag and went next door, and waited for Luke, who always ends up arriving about ten minutes after me, when I suddenly remembered -- the berries had been soaked in sherry. So that was why I was feeling that funny sensation in my legs that I associate with alcohol. How scandalous, I thought. Sherry for breakfast.

I got to school feeling exhausted already, and found Eva, and we talked animatedly about something or other -- Jessi Slaughter, perhaps, and how her old best friend had got a nipple piercing -- and then we went to our respective form classes and listened to our teachers announce Maori Language Week with their appalling failing Maori pronunciation and their feeble promises of going into a draw to win a movie ticket if you are heard using Maori words throughout the week. I mean seriously, how unexciting. I have become dreadfully cynical over my years at high school. I find it amusing when people get enthusiastic about house points and assembly presentations. You know, cause I'm like, so indie.

So first period I had design, nothing much happened, and then I had French, same again -- oh except Nandita told me a wonderful thing, right Nando? Wink wink in your direction. And of course it was nice seeing Jennecca, and pretending to be totally engaged and interested in the lesson. Actually I lie, I was a little interested. The topic we're studying at the moment is racism and religion in France, mostly around the Muslim dress code and surrounding controversy. Brings up a lot of interesting issues about freedom, oppression, women's rights and respect for other cultures. A very complex issue, though.

Then it was interval, and I sat with Eva and poured out my little packet of scroggin and divided it into categories: raisins, cranberries, banana chips, dried apricot, peanuts, cashews, almonds and dark chocolate drops. There were about seven dark chocolate drops. It was the best day of my life.

We had English next, and it was interesting because Helen told me something crazy, and then we re-watched and analysed 'Rain' which is a brilliant little New Zealand film with themes of nymphet-ism and alcoholism and seventies-dancing-ism. I think film study is always my favourite part of the English curriculum. Yes. It even beats creative writing. Which isn't hard because NCEA manages to make creative writing lame and rather uncreative.

Then it was a long trek across the corridor to E12 where we have media studies. Rewiti did not share our marks for our documentaries with us -- instead he screened the films for the class and we all watched each other's work (ie. our lives for the past two months) and that was very cool. It was an immense feeling of pride watching our final product play on a biggish screen. Nice work Alex and Jennecca. We are great.

So then it was lunch time, the best part of the day, and thinking ahead, I texted Dad and asked him to pick me up as soon as possible after school. After a lifetime of getting home at around five it's such a luxury to be picked up at three thirty like the normal kids. I had painting last, and Helen and I just sat and planned my eighteenth birthday party. Which, by the way, my mum has been having ideas about for about three years, so... it's going to be classy. Only around two months to go!

Yep I just gave you a full overview of my day, excluding the part when I came home, watched Rosemary Shrager's School For Cooks with my mum, then had dinner and watched the Graham Norton Show with the family, then came here to talk about myself to an audience of three people. Hi guys.

Now finally I will share a performance/song with you that has been in my head since last week's episode of I'd Do Anything: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HLRk366dUnM

She's pretty gorgeous.

114 Days

until the last official day of school for seniors. 140 days until my last exam (it's always French) and the last time I will ever set foot in Mt Roskill Grammar as a student.

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.