Excuse me for the dormant state of my blog. I've been very caught up with other things (namely, Heroes all freaking weekend it's so damn awesome ohmygod help me), and haven't really found the time to stop and blog.


We had our HPV vaccinations last Thursday. If you know me well, by now you'd be wondering - how the hell did I pull through and why the hell would I put myself through it if the vaccinations were not compulsory. Mum said the vaccinations were free, so I might as well take it. I was brave about it though, very unlike me! I even jumped the queue because my friends were arguing over who should go first. When I got there, on the chair next to the lady who was going to put a needle in me, I was surprisingly at ease. I suppose it was because I didn't want people to look and listen at me curse and squirm around. I had to look brave. Because brave is cool. It didn't hurt anyway. Not until the woman actually injected the contents of the syringe into my arm. And for the rest of the day, my arm was numb.

We have the worst Maths substitute for Mr Jones, who is badly injured, we've been told. The sub's name is Mr Politis. Jude and I were so curious to know of where he is originally from, so I took the liberty to Google his name :x From my "research", I'd found many websites of Turkish origin. So I figured, he's either Turkish or Egyptian (as he told us a "funny" story about him being in Egypt and something about the number 7 and 8 looking so very similar). Anyway, he's horrible. I actually miss Mr Jones. Our Maths class has got to be the most insecure one in Year 12. If there's a slight change in method or style, the class freaks out and starts becoming super agitated with the teacher. We're so used to Mr Jones and his simple ways and slow, hobbling around the class, his menopausal mood and typed out notes, that anyone else far more complex and different to that is just too far out of the ordinary for our brains to comprehend. I do, however, feel very fortunate for having had Maths tutoring back home during the Easter holidays. I've covered well past Logarithmic functions to survive the week without Mr Jones. Let's just hope he comes back soon. I've had enough of Mr Politis' irrelevant, scribbly ways and his stupid natural log graphs that take up a whole fuckin' whiteboard. I mean, it's not like we're unaware that the graph will NOT touch the y-axis because it's an asymptote. Stupid ass.

I have two assessment tasks next week! English, which I have decided to fail because I have lost all hope in the subject; and Modern History, which I think I could do all right in (I might fail at the rate I'm working at right now!). Next week, I also have an In-House Concert performance on the guitar, which I totally saw coming from my guitar teacher the moment I sat down for my class last week. So I'm going to have to pick up on a whole bag of confidence in a week to show off my improvisation skills. I still honestly think I sound lower than a noob. Melissa keeps saying I don't, but I think she's lying to make me feel better.

All I've been thinking about this week is Billy Blue. I'm so excited about it. It's something new, and exciting. I compare it with my daily school life everytime I think about it. Oh, how I would love to learn how to draw and use computer programs to do it too! The fact that it's new, and so totally different, just makes me want to drop out of school and get straight into it. That's when I bring myself back into reality. I've come all this way, and dropping out of school is something I even consider. All the money spent on education, and wasted - gosh, what would my parents think of that? Especially my father. Why, he'd disown me and never speak to me again.

Maybe I'm just tired of school. It's coming to the point where I just don't care if I fail this or that. It's more like, oh dear look at that D, I guess I'll just do better next time rather than OMGNOOOOOO LEAVE ME BE I'M GOING TO CRY IN A LITTLE CORNER. I mean, this final year does not dictate my future, why should I spend so much emotion and time and energy on feeling depressed about a bad score? There's so much more to life than the final year. And to me, I just can't wait to get out there and explore all those other possibilities.


The weather in Sydney sure doesn't have AUTUMN written all over it. It's more like SPRING. What the hell is going on with the weather?

Better get back to my notes on Wuthering Heights.

Cheers.

PS. Athletics carnival this Thursday. I'm doing my part for my house by throwing a shotput in the morning. Go Bronte House, yayz.

PPS. Mum's birthday is this Saturday 12/5. Goddamnit I wish I was there to celebrate with her.

PPPS. FINISHED MOCKINGBIRD LIKE A WEEK AGO OMGLIEKTEHBESTBOOKEVER. Atticus Finch is my hero.

& turned on the lights; 21:26