Five days. Five days spent this half term with my heart pounding overtime, my blood pumping adrenaline, and my sanity edging closer and closer to a nervous breakdown. On my list of horribly stress-infused days, those five days come right after the nightmare that was Exam Week in June. Every morning when I woke up, I longed to stall for time and play on Professor Layton, but colleges and universities were calling, and so was my work-loving lobe.
I did three homeworks in one day on Saturday; on Monday, my sweat ducts were on panic mode as I fiddled exhaustively with pipe cleaners and tried to stick them into my sketchbook and close it without the pipe cleaners coming apart; Wednesday was background refinement and compositional formats; and Friday was mock up day, which I worked on late into the twilight hours, and it still wasn’t finished. Today was the fifth. Technically, I should be typing up the transcript(s) to my German Speaking Test, but I’ve figured that I have plenty of time to do that, and so I’m typing this post.
But I’m sane. I survived. On Monday, I thought I’d never be ready to start my final piece as soon as I get back to school, what with all the work I still had to do. But now I think I can. And it was thanks to an external source that I was able to keep my marbles safe. No, not Big Bang Theory (in fact, come to think of it, I’ve probably spent an entire week without seeing a single episode); music.
Half term truly was musical mayhem: a whole week of headbanging to Queen ’til I’m seriously discombobulated (I can’t do that now, unfortunately: I’ve just had a haircut); working into the late hours as the soothing synthesiser on Human League’s Together in Electric Dreams soothes my brain like a lullaby; and wondering when my Depeche Mode CD will ever turn up. I discovered more bands to feed my mega-80s-crave. I lay shattered in bed, Jean Michel Jarre’s Equinoxe washing over me like waves on a beach. And I thanked the world for the music, the songs that I’m singing. Thanks for all the joy they’re bringing. Who could live without it? I ask in all honesty, what would life be? Without a song or a dance, what are we? So I say thank you for the music, for giving it to me.
Hmm…Something tells me that those lyrics could work miracles in E Flat…
Live long and prosper! 😀
As soon as you get back to school after the summer holidays in primary school, they usually ask you to talk or write about what you did over the summer. Once you get to secondary school, it all changes. But they cut you some slack with the homework. I remember the first homeworks I got on my first day in Year 7: create a “Poster all about Me” for PHSE, and decorate the front cover of my French book with images related to France (I chose images of croissants, Asterix & Obelix, Mr Bean’s Holiday, the Eiffel Tower and croissants).
However, once you get to KS4, there’s no mercy for you when it comes to homework. The first two days back at school, I got four homeworks: write a paragraph on pocket money and learn vocabulary for German; find a way of recording time passing for Fine Art (how would YOU do this?); draw a scaled drawing where a school building is the opposite side of a right angle triangle, and from this work out its height; and bring in a newspaper article about fertility treatment for Philosophy & Ethics.
The stream of homeworks was continuous over the past three or so weeks, so much so that I didn’t get much chance to do many posts. I did get the occasional day of freedom without any homework or revision, where I could play blasts from the past on Spotify and start typing a new blog post, but they were rare.
I’ve also just come out of a Science ISA. (I’ll wait for you to stop singing. Done? Okay dokey, moving on.) Yes. We had a test lasting over three weeks, which counted towards my GCSEs…on my first term back to school. I’ve survived it, and I think I survived it well, but still: the teachers are a bunch of MEANIES. Especially since there are more tests to come: GCSE History coursework, a German speaking test..and a whole hoarde of exams in January that demands most unseasonly revision over the Christmas holidays.
But I must not face these upcoming hurdles with blubbering butterflies in my stomach; I must follow the philosophies of old and new: Don’t Panic; Keep Calm and Carry On; Embrace the chaos; and remember that even when it seems bad it’s always for the best.
Live long and prosper! 😀
At the beginning of the summer holiday, I found a box in my yard. A blue box. A big blue box with cream white windows and the words “POLICE BOX” written across the top. A man wearing a bow tie opened the door and grinned at me. He didn’t even need to ask. I stepped into the TARDIS and let the Doctor whisk me away.
For six weeks.
I’m leaving this summer holiday feeling like I’ve just travelled through time and space. I broke the laws of time by going through six weeks in a matter of what feels like just a single week. So that’s why I had the anecdote at the beginning. Sorry if I got your hopes up.
Today was spent finishing off my summer homework and preparing for tomorrow. I packed everything, since I didn’t know the timetable. At the end, I lifted up my school bag and thought, “Hello again, my old friend the ridiculously heavy bag.” I also spent it watching about ten episodes of the Big Bang Theory (Season 5) since I got it on my birthday. Watching the consequences of Amy’s date for Sheldon unfold really tickles my funny bone (Super Mario Bros. Theme Tune, strawberry milkshake, then the highlight: spaghetti with little hot dogs cut up in it — if you’re a Big Bang Theory fan, this should be your first meal at university (if you do go); if you’re a Doctor Who fan…fish fingers and custard)!
There are of course, the obvious worries about going back to school: this year promises to be chock-a-block with exams and controlled assessments and difficult stuff to learn; it’s going to be too close for comfort going back to school right after spending your summer chilling out and doing nothing; and if you haven’t seen some of your friends over the summer, you feel a tad strange about meeting them again (although this feeling disappears abruptly as soon as you do meet them).
But there are also the positives: you get to be with your favourite teachers again, be they jumpy and good-tempered, or insane yet intelligent with the mentality of a five-year-old; you get to meet the friends you’ve missed over the summer; and some people (like me) just like going to school because it keeps them busy and they feel totally unequipped without a rucksack over their shoulders.
But school will also mean less blogging, as I have done so much of over the summer that it’s perhaps bordering on obsession. But I enjoy it, so it doesn’t mean that I’m not going to blog any more. Far from it, I’m still going to blog as much as I can, as long as my homework and revision and other stuff are in control.
Live long and prosper, everyone! 😀
Today I decided to do some revision for German and Science. I was all prepared. I had my task sheet, I had my books, and I had my brain. In the background, Spotify played The Rah Band, and I was bobbing my head up and down, slightly disappointed that I can no longer flap my hair up and down, like they do in Wayne’s World, since today’s haircut that removed four months’ worth of hair.
But something seemed weird. My brain felt empty of nearly everything educational and useful. The German looked a little gobbledygooky, and the Biology stuff looked a little alien. I got some stuff wrong that I would never have got wrong if I was doing it after school. It was clear who was to blame. The one thing sitting in the background roaring with laughter at what it’s done to me over these heavenly six weeks: the summer holidays.
I don’t know whether it was because it was actually difficult, or whether I’ve just become stupider, but one of the (higher) reading tasks on Klar that we had to do as part of our summer work I really struggled on at first. It was as if the summer holidays was a bash on my German head that gave me amnesia. I’d forgotten so much. The same went to the Biology revision I had to do on Bitesize.
But then again, it’s not something to worry about. It happens. And it actually might be a task that’s as hard as concrete.
Over one and a half months this summer holiday has lasted, and now there’s only about ONE WEEK LEFT. It’s ridiculous — no, it’s LUDRICIOUS just how fast it’s gone by. All those precious weeks of wonderful weather; all those mornings of us teenagers lazing in our beds, “chillaxing”; all those days of just doing nothing; all those holidays we took away from the rat race. They’re vanishing fast. And it’s so, so sad. Now our brains have to change the gearstick to that dusty gear that is “SCHOOL”, joyfully neglected for over six weeks.
Summer took my memory and turned it into sand, which just ran through my fingers like a sieve. But the sand was part of a glorious beach, which will forever provide memories of peace and happiness.
From when I was four to when I was eight were some of the greatest years of my life, thanks to this extraordinary organisation.
In simple terms, Perform is Stagecoach’s competitor. They teach children about singing, dancing and acting through themed workshops that begin every September. During each course, you’re given a poster, where you add stickers every time you pass a specific dance, which then fills in the empty poster like a jigsaw piece (e.g. a rabbit in a hat is stuck on a poster of an empty magician’s lair).
Perform I first remember coming to my primary school, and I hated to see them leave. I cried when they did. I longed more than ever for them to come back. So a compromise was sorted: I started taking Perform lessons. And I was way up on Cloud 92!
So many memories come from those Perform lessons. Really vivid ones, even. The themes in the courses were Circus, Magician, Pirates, Round the World, Fairy Tales and The Wild West. On my wall, by the time I was 8, there were colourful, tattered posters of ringmasters, cauldrons, witches, unicorns, ghosts, cowboys, and a small blond boy called PF: the hero of the last three themes. They were magical courses. The dances were never boring. Their warm ups, I still remember, were set to Moving On Up by M People. We had to stomp REALLY REALLY LOUD, then really really quiet, THEN REALLY REALLY LOUD and then all over again until the instructors became exhausted. We sat round in a circle on cushions, big ones for the instructors, and a “special cushion” for the most well behaved, talented person (who was never me, I remember).
When we weren’t dancing to “Catch a Cat Nap”, “Don’t Be A Ghost in a Ghost Town” or “Ooh, The Gingerbread House”, we were doing little games, like “The Banana Game” or “The Toy Shop”, or giggling and squealing as the instructors go absolutely mental.
In the Banana Game, the instructor would ask you a question like, “Where do you live?” or “What’s your favourite food?” or “What do you use to clean your teeth?”, and you ALWAYS had to reply with “Banana,” no matter how embarrassing the consequences were.
“The Toy Shop” was always my favourite. In it, we had to pretend to be toys that only came to life when the “shopkeeper” (the instructor) left the room. The first time the shopkeeper comes and sees how all the toys have moved after she briefly left the room, she would give an (exaggerated) gasp, stagger over to each of us and wonder what the hell is going on. Then she decides that it would be an EXCELLENT IDEA to bring out her prized giant chocolate cake, leave it in the centre of the room, and exit the shop. When she comes back she finds us, some are hiding behind curtains cos we can’t stop giggling and we want to confuse the instructor further (that would be usually me, in fact); some are innocently standing at the sides with invisible chocolate round their mouths; and some are still crouching over the tray, caught in the act. It then all becomes too much for the shopkeeper, for she then faints dead away, and we all come scurrying over to her. Every time, we (or at least I) wish more than ever that we did it more than once a week.
In later years, a male instructor came along. He was an absolute riot. While we sang Wild West songs, the other instructors would complain that we’re not singing the songs loud enough, and tells us that we should BELLOW THE SONG AS LOUD AS WE CAN to the male instructor. Nobody decides to ignore them. They know what will happen. The music comes back on, and we yell the entire song at him. He starts clucking, prances out the fire exit and does a lap round the entire building. He then prances back in, still clucking like a demented chicken, squats over a cushion and lays an egg. Yes. You heard me. He lays an egg. One day the fire exit was closed. I asked an instructor why. She said, “To keep [the male instructor] under control.” I believed her.
I sometimes spoiled the activities. In the Fairy Tale course, we were told the story behind the course, and they constantly asked us what would happen next at each point, like one of those stories that asks you to take the hero’s decisions. And it always ended with the instructor saying after the final point, “We will have to find out…duh duh duuuuuh…NEXT–WEEK.” Sometimes, when it was really obvious, I would tell the instructor that we have to wait till next week. The instructors always never expected it, and they would hurriedly ask somebody else what they think will happen next. The other child guesses (wrongly), and then, surprise surprise, the instructor says we will have to wait a week. I hope I beamed every time. I was such an annoying child, but I loved it.
Perform gave me the time of my life. The instructors were always mega-friendly, even when they motivated us (they were wise of what children liked, for whenever they thought we weren’t singing hard enough, they’d sing to us a wrong version, like instead of “Learn to throw a boomerang and don’t forget to do the didgeridoo,” they’d instead sing, “Learn to throw a boomerang and don’t forget to do a poo!”), or when they mocked the fact that we were, apparently, singing without gusto.
Their lessons were full of imagination. The instructors sometimes formed a “special door” as we left the sessions (to pick up a Perform CD or tape if the course was over, and we’d just showed off the dances to our parents, the instructors surprising us by talking really formally to them), which was a bit of a turnstile, which only opened if we said the magic word of the day. The last thing I did at Perform was a Jungle Book play, full of singing and dancing and acting, during summer when I was seven. I was the Chief Monkey (who told Mowgli to “scratch yourself and find a juicy flea” and then “pass it round so that everyone can see”) and the wolf father who adopts Mowgli. Which was nice. Having to leave Perform was not nice, though, especially since it was going to have a underwater theme.
I hope that Perform, and you also, lives long and prosper! 😀
P.S: The male “chicken” instructor actually starred in two Kinder Bueno ads years ago! I’ve searched all over YouTube for them, but it looks like they’ve been taken off, which is a shame. But I remember them, and they were as demented as the asdf movies!
It’s the most wonderful time of the year: the summer hols! Cue the advert where businessmen come streaming out of their offices and dive-bomb into a swimming pool. Cue six-and-a-half weeks of fun, holidays…and homework. Cue choruses of schoolchildren bellowing out Alice Cooper so that the whole country can hear:
SCHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL’S OUT! FOR…SUMMER!!
SCHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL’S OUT! FOR…EVER!!!!
It sure is, kids. It sure is!
When I’m not doing homework projects over the summer hols, I will try to post lots of stuff on here. Yes, I will try to include my own Big Bang Theory script featuring Leslie Winkle (I will also try to make it old-style, with no background events or stories taking place – just simple Big Bang Theory). Yes, I will try to post stories on the new page that I have created. Yes, I will (hopefully) continue to add weekly entries to my ‘Favourite Songs of the Week’ and ‘Big Bang Theory Quote of the Week’ posts. I’ve also got a couple of ideas for new posts, but I won’t reveal anything yet.
Have a long and prosperous summer, everyone! 😀
Itssa me! Tazir3! And I’mma back! Mamma mia!
Me and nearly everybody else in my school year have just had four days of exams: some vital, some determining how much of a GCSE we do, some just mocks. I did nine in four days, but some people had to do up to TWELVE. Over the course of the week, the servers for SAM Learning and BBC Bitesize and GCSEPod have been whirring frantically; brains have been bubbling and sweating, almost eroding their skulls; fingers and thumbs have turned red and swollen; the poor guy in many people’s memory bank has consistently went on strike; the Sports Hall has become a second home; and tempers have risen out of bodies until forcefields of fury and stress and pressure are formed. Basically, it was like being in hell, except it was led not just by Satan but by the God of the Underworld: Hades.
Time was never on our side over the week. It never allowed us to do all the revision we want AND give us free time as well. It set off panic switches within people when the invigilator shouted, “Right, you have ten minutes left” and they hadn’t even finished the exam paper yet. But sometimes it was kind. Sometimes it made exams drag on and on while you wrote out an essay on spoken language. Sometimes it let you take a little nap when you had just finished a paper in half the time given. Sometimes it would surprise you by revealing that your supposedly one-hour-long revision session had in fact lasted for quarter of an hour. But let us not forget that time is cool: time is what separates humans from Gallifreyians; time is the epic fourth dimension; and time is the only thing between cats and opposable thumbs!
But enough about this hellish week. Lets talk about something better: Big Bang Theory! Here is my favourite Big Bang Theory quote of the week (from Season 4), and THE ONE QUOTE I can not recite off by heart (even know I know every single exception to the question “What have the Romans Ever Done For Us?”):
Leonard: You’ll never guess what just happened to me in the hallway!
Sheldon: You went out in the hallway, stumbled into an inter-dimensional portal which brought you five thousand years into the future. There, you took advantage of the advanced technology to build a time machine. Now you’re back to bring us all with you to the year 7010 where we are transported to work at the Thinkatorium by telepathically controlled flying dolphins.
Sheldon: (crestfallen) Oh…
Howard: So, what happened?
Leonard: (still in a state of shock)Penny kissed me!
Sheldon: (confused) Well who would’ve guessed that?
That was for the 14th June. Now here’s a better one for the 21st (from Season 5) which I’m sure you will recognise!
Amy: (disgusted) Jewellery?! Sheldon, you are the most shallow, self-centered person I know! Do you really think another transparently manipulative- ohh, it’s a tiara! (her posture becomes wobbly at the sight of her dream piece of jewellery). A tiara! I have a tiara! (staggering over to Penny, holding out the tiara) Put it on me! Put it on me! Put it on me! Put in on me! Put it on me! (Amy beams as Penny places it over her hair. She looks amazing.)
Penny: (amazed) You look beautiful!
Amy: (interrupting she’s so ecstatic) Of course I’m beautiful! I’m a princess! I have my tiara! (she gives Sheldon a massive kiss and hugs him tightly)
Sheldon: (awkwardly hugging Amy back) You’re right. The tiara was too much.
Also, FYI, here are three songs that you should NOT have stuck in your brain’s jukebox during an exam (my NOT Favourite Songs of the Week, if you like):
- Mah Na Mah Na – The Muppets
- Always Look on the Bright Side of Life – Monty Python (The Life of Brian)
- Macarena – Los Del Rio
What songs do YOU think should NOT be stuck in your head in an exam (or you DID have stuck in your head during an exam)?
But anyway, I’m back, along with my ludricrously long posts! I shall continue to blog until something as big as last week arrives.
Live long and prosper! 😀
That’s what I had today. Without warning…kind of. I had forgotten it was on today. Luckily I had breakfast. Rumbling stomach (YES I know it’s actually your intestines that rumble) + Tetanus jab = VERY BAD
On the school site, a friend asked out of curiosity when the injection took place. I’d forgotten, but since it wasn’t mentioned in the Link (the School newsletter) last term, I figured it was next week. I was wrong. It was the first thing they mentioned when I reached the wooden bench: You do know we have our jabs today?
My heart pounded. That was expected.
I remembered the golden rules: Stay calm, don’t flinch, look straight ahead and DON’T FAINT (it will put you in a coma…apparently).
Halfway through the first lesson, half the year was taken out to the hall. I signed in, took my form, and sat on a bench in the main hall. My jumper was up, just as the nurse had requested when we were informed about the injection last term.
I was worried.
Of course I was worried.
Even the most optimistic of people get worried a bit sometimes…don’t they?
I was at the end of the bench in a matter of minutes.
A kind lady with glasses and a beaming smile called me over. She didn’t even look like she was thinking, “Groan. ANOTHER Year 10 child. I hate interacting with them. I was NEVER a child!” She seemed the complete opposite. She got to know me quite quickly. She was extremely friendly, listened to everything I said, and was very comforting. She even joked that I should look brave, because my friends were watching. They in fact were, so I gave a “brave” thumbs up.
A cotton bud was placed on my upper arm, presumably with alcohol for sterilisation.
Then I felt a pinching prick.
All the while the nurse kept talking.
I thought the prick was from the alcohol.
But it wasn’t.
It was the jab.
It was over in two seconds.
“Oh. Wow. Great!”
She wished me luck in becoming an author (in her words, she told me she looked forward to me becoming the new J.K.Rowling). I said thanks and left.
My arm didn’t feel at all cramped.
Until the fourth lesson.
Then my arm felt like it was being pinched by a giant jagged claw.
Why did it take so long to hurt?
It’s a mystery that will never be solved.
After spending three years only having about six short “major” exams a year and doing lots of fun stuff, suddenly being bombarded with stress, exams and revision really whacks you in the face.
I’m starting my GCSEs at the moment, and I am not enjoying it. History is fun (I’m getting good grades in it), Art is also quite enjoyable, and German is also good. But the important subjects (i.e. English, Maths and Science) are where most of the stress comes from.
Lets take English as an example. Whilst our teacher is emphatic and hilarious, the exam board is NEITHER of the two. Sitting in the classroom doing the Reading test, my hands became so sweaty that smudgy ink marks appeared all the way down the right column. Every time I looked at the clock, my estimations were always wrong. It’s as if in English exams, the god who controls time decided to let his not-so-intelligent apprentice take the wheel.
Now I’ve got a Science exam soon, so I’m not in a very Christmassy mood. I want to revise, but a mixture of purposefully late nights and distractions everywhere does not add up to easy revision. I guess I’ll just have to persevere…
So there we go. My first post is all about exams. But I promise you, my next post will (hopefully) be a bit better.