Numbers.

2 days till start.
7 days of exams.
14 exams.
21 hours.

Don’t panic, stay calm.

Bogan Asians are fucking scary.

But I haven’t been to San Francisco’s Chinatown, so maybe they’re just more gangsta over there.

It’s done.

O my asian parents, how I have failed you.

Nearly there.

I’m not going to lie, I’m actually not feeling nostalgic at all. I can’t wait till it’s all over. In fact I’m skipping all the farewell stuff. In my very warped reality, school’s been over ever since the end of trials and classes have been…well optional.
I feel kind of cheated that I don’t get my emotional farewell moment.But, you all must make sure Cindy attends the farewell stuff, because like wtf…Go! have fun! You were there for 6 freakin years, you’re never going to see that entire cohort again and I think unlike me, deep inside, you may actually care.

And please don’t do anything along the lines of a Commerce/IT degree, because I swear to god, the dry air in your little office cubicle will like suck out your soul. It’s like if Xi May gave up on the violin and like opened a sandwhich shop, so not meant to happen.

Btw has anyone watch Glee? ’tis awesome. wow I really am going to fail my IB.

I’m tired and this is sentimental and incoherent.

o shit.

I just realised that my exams don’t start on the 5th of November- they start on the 3rd.

…

Great now I have 3 days less than 2 months.  

Did I mention I finish my exams the earliest out of everyone?  That’s right, all my exams are packed into a week.

You know what IB?  You win. I’m just going to go jump off a building now, because you’ve made it very obvious that’s where you want me to head.

7s rule my life.

Shouldn’t be blogging. Because tomorrow I have an oral that’s worth 15% of my English grade. And moreover it’s probably one of the most hardcore of my assessments.

Unseen commentary

Prep Time: 20 minutes

Speech Time: 15 minutes

Then Question Time from a panel of 3 English teachers.

Although it’s not really unseen because I know it’s either going to be on Dylan Thomas or Dubliners. But Dylan Thomas’ pretty much on crack, so naturally I skipped last period to photocopy Dylan Thomas analysis stuff from Fisher. But then I get there and some random has checked out ALL the books on Dylan Thomas leaving biographies and Dylan Thomas poems in Italian. Actually who am I kidding they’re probably from my English cohort..(and considering I only know 1 person with 4 usyd library cards…)

But anyhoo I was seriously panicking because I need a 7 in English, and that simply isn’t possible if I don’t get Dylan Thomas’ bullshit.

And then I realised there are other unis besides usyd! So I went ALL THE WAY from usyd to Kensington  to use unsw’s library.

See you don’t even need to bother with Open Days when you’re ib.

unsw is much more like how I imagined a university to look like, when comparing to usyd. But that’s probably cause I’m basing it all off US unis with their massive campuses and modern buildings.

And unsw library is ALOT nicer than Fisher. But Fisher’s range and collection of books is so so much bigger.

And I have no idea why anyone would be interested, but there you go.

Trial marks overall went ok. It’s nice to know that Law isn’t completely impossible.

an

Formal Procrasination.

 

Ok now that Trials are over, I need to deal with Formal stuff- and quickly too. Because my Formal is next Tuesday.

Firstly I have to say guys Gelnmore rd Paddington totally beats trying to find a dress in the City.

Seriously all the Aus brands they stock at Myers, David Jones and The Strand have boutiques there and they have like the WHOLE collection with like no broken sizes. You don’t have to struggle with like the whole carrying 5 dresses into the fitting room thing…and it’s generally a calmer atmosphere. Actually Paddington is nice in generally with pretty terraces and really  pretty people.

Anyhoo I’m having issues. 2 dresses, one more expensive, the cliche.

Blossom Frock- Camillia and Marc $420

Blossom Frock- Camillia and Marc $420

I’ll be getting it in black which makes it look less casual, it’s halter, backless.  I should probably mention it looks longer and less deflated on me aswell.

 

 

Cherie Ruffle Dress- Manning Cartell-$599

The back only in vanilla

I really really the second dress. It looked so much better. But really $600? I told my Dad the dress would be about $500, but really I was only expecting to go from the mid 300s to early 400s. And I know if I ask, they’ll probably say yes, but I’ve been spending alot of cash these last 2 years on tutoring and such…

O and did I mention the others costs of this freaking formal?!

Formal Ticket- $130

Shoes: Under 200 around 150

Makeup:

When did makeup get so expensive?! It’s like $95 reedemable everywhere…I’ll probably get it done at  the Shu Uemura counter because it seems more pro and I guess I like the natural asian makeup better than the more dramatic Napolean or MAC.

Otherwise it’s Mecca…cause they actually have stuff which I might want.

And then it’s like another $30 if I want to get brows done, another $30 if I want to get jewellery…$40 for hair..but I need a hair cut anyway..

And a gel bra or whatever the fuck it is that you wear underneath those dresses.

And I realise that the extras are  unecessary, petty and even the price of the blossom frock is too high. I’d like to think I was above this, but apparently I’m not.  I realised I  just want to look nice at least once in high school. Especially after trials where I’ve been taking cocktails of redbull/strong coffee/ caffeine tablets and generally avoiding all reflective surfaces, because it just scares me.

But anyhoo, DRESS NEED TO MAKE DECISION BEFORE TOMORROW.

Paranoid?

So yesterday after finishing my English Paper 2 Exam, I was at Wynyard Station at around 4 ready to go home. Then this creepy guy (you know middle age, balding, doesn’t blink, leans slightly too close, wears leather jackets- that sort of creepy) approaches me and asks me if I have $4. So I was like “Sorry, I don’t” and went to my platform.

But then today after finishing my morning exam, he approached me again for $4 at Wynyard station. I was lining up at a sushi place, so obviously I had money. And in my moment of omg who the fuck is this guy, this is how it went down.

Him: Do you have $4
Me: Umm yeap let me check…Sorry I only have $10…do you have change?
Him: Do I have change? Why don’t you get change.
Me: Ok, I guess I can.

And then he just stands there staring at me while I queue up and buy food.

See the thing is I’m at Wynyard Station for like 5 minutes max, and I was there at two different times; 4pm yesterday and 11:30am today, and both times he manages to randomly approach me.

And don’t these people normally target different people, so it seems like they just accidentally forgot to bring money? And there was plenty of people at that Sushi place, all of them obviously had money.

I know that sounds like nothing, now that I’m typing it. But I think it was just the way he acted, like he didn’t seem crazy, just like  strange and off. And he just appeared out of nowhere both times, like I only saw him once I turned around, because I heard someone talking to me. I don’t know. Am I just paranoid? Was it just a coincidence?

It’s never about the fish, fool.

Fish  (IB May/09 HL Eng Poem)

 The sea came in with her and her curved snout
and her tin coloured barnacles
and long threaded rose moles
patterned on her body.

The sea brought her and her curved snout
and her rose moles and her eyes still translucent
as if half aware and half unaware
of the state of her body.

The sea came in with her and her scimitar snout
and her translucent eyes
greying into stone.

The sea brought her in,
wrapped in seaweed
and slapped her on the sand,
all five feet of her
with the armour of her scales
and the filigree of her rose moles.

The tide kept coming in
but couldn’t disturb her
or her resting place –
she was  heavy.

The sea fell back but even
as the thin-edged foam line receded,
it went to her once more with a supreme effort,
rummaged among her barnacles
and left.      

 

© 2002, Keki Daruwalla

 

O what could the subject possibly be? I don’t know a beached fish? obviously I’m fucking deluded, because obviously you’re not given 2 hrs to talk about a fucking fish dying. After a quick search from internet apparently…

“i definetely detected signs of anti-colonialistic sentiments and a call for anti-imperialism. Naturally assuming that the poet was of African origin, i thought the message was one along the lines of African anti-colonialism.
The message was particularly evident in the fifth stanza:
The tide kept coming in
but couldn’t disturb her
or her resting place –
she was heavy.
Also i thought of Africa largely because of the symbol of the scimitar in the third stanza, possibly an allusion to the Ottoman/Mamluk Egyptians seeing as the scimitar was a weapon of Southwestern Asian origin and traditionally entrenched in their national histories.”

“I wrote about how the main theme of the poem is the relationship between the fish and the sea, and how the fish is a female entity and the sea is attributed masculine elements of power and physical strengths, so this possibly reflects the gender schema of the society in which the poet lives.”

 

Really?! post-colonialism and gender inequality?!…

eugh. obviously i’m losing my touch.

And I think this little exchange in question time pretty much conveys how well I did in my TOK presentation…

H: Do you think it’s a woman’s right to have children?

Huh. That’s a good question. Farout I can’t say it’s a right otherwise it contradicts my whole speech. But then what is it if it’s not right? Ok this silence is going on for too long. Fuck. fuck fuck say something. Wait what did they say about the common room? It’s not a right it’s a-

Me: No, I don’t believe it’s a right, I think it’s a privilege.

OMFG take that back, take that fucking back..you don’t even want children, why the fuck would see it’s a privilege to have children? when did you become the freaking spokesperson for lets pop out as many children as possible? shit. shit shit. How the fuck do you take back an answer…

*Entire audience who just so happens to be male looks at me weirdly*

H: . . .You think it’s a privilege.

Me: . . .yes.

 Ah. That’s me undoing decades of feminist work with one TOK presentation. I hope everyone is doing well, and best of luck for upcoming trials.

The reason we don’t have dinner parties.

Dinner conversation from a few nights ago…I swear to god I did not make this shit up…

*Dad reading article on Michael Jackson* Dad: Ah! MJ is in the news again!

Me: MJ? Really you call him MJ…

Dad: We have MJ shirts you know, shipment coming next week. You want one?

Me: What?

 Dad: Shirts with Michael Jackson’s face *Extends Arms* this big.

 Me: Isn’t that too soon and kind of terrible?

 Dad: No, going to be very popular. Last month, we did shirt with fat black woman smoking a cigar…very popular had to reorder!

Me to sister: This is why I never mention N** when people ask…

Dad: What?! Your mother’s company sold shirts last week with woman holding up her rude finger!

Mum: Disgusting, I tell you.

Me: Do you think M***P*** would sell shirts with Michael Jackson’s face on it?

Mum: Probably not, they’re British you know…

Me: . . .

 Dad: MJ from black to white! Hahahahaha