Tuesday, October 28, 2008

My Updated, Upbeat Life

My final year of high school started out of nowhere about three weeks ago. I am still adjusting my eyes to the bright light at the end of the tunnel, which is something like Medicine in UNSW. And the lesser bright light next to it spells out M-E-D-I-C-I-N-E-,-U-W-S. If I can’t get their fast and qualified enough for the brighter one, I wouldn’t mind taking the second way out. The problem is that I might not get their in time for that one either. Quoting Scarlett, “I will think about that later.”

Year twelve is nothing like year eleven. The work is much harder, comes in bigger loads and has to be done faster. The worst part is – all of it counts towards determining how realistic my dream of successfully reaching the end of the tunnel is. If I screw up once, it’ll be a big, fat, permanent black mark on my newly cleaned record. But – I will think about that later.

My new timetable is so inelastic to my demands, no matter how much tax I impose on these, they won’t budge. The bad things about it include:
My extremely ignorant and boring economics teacher.
My incredibly annoying maths teacher.
Morning classes – twice a week.
Monday afternoon maths classes, when the rest of the year 12s get to go home.

I am so disadvantaged that I really should be given the right to apply for extra points. And then there is the added problem of travelling so far away. And then... and... And etc. Yup I should be able to get a 99 by scraping past 80.
I wish.

Ohhh. The good news is – I am studying Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close as an Area of Study text! I was so, so happy to see it on the list I could’ve cried. Dear Oskar would be back to me and I would be back to dealing with fictitious characters’ depression and coming up with amazing ideas and theories and feeling quite smart for doing so. The bad news is – I threw out last year’s notes.

Maths isn’t that bad either – apart from Ms Trotter. She literally trots!
(I just looked up ‘trotter’ in Encarta Dictionary Tools.
trot·ter [tróttər]
(plural trot·ters)
food pig or sheep foot: the foot of an animal, especially that of a pig or sheep, when used as food
horseracing trotting person or animal: somebody who or something that trots, especially a horse that has been specially trained to trot in harness

I am trying to like her attention on me. I figured, the only way I have a chance of ever getting my way with her is if I sit at the front and nod and smile enthusiastically at everything she says for five minutes. It’s working. She feels loved and therefore does not mind if I don’t pay attention for the rest of the period. I can’t help it! She even makes extension 2 look boring!

Steven makes my week complete every Friday with extension 2 and I am guaranteeing it – this subject is probably the most interesting one I’m doing. In the past two years, I never thought I would associate ‘interesting’ with ‘maths’, but Steve simply and easily made this impossible concept possible to bear. I wish I could tell him how great a teacher he is. Even though I’ve only been his student for about a month, I can already feel the change within me. My competitive nature for solving problems is finally emerging again. The last time I felt this ‘fresh’ about maths would probably be year 6. I even dreamt about maths twice in the last three weeks!

(I’ve just read over that paragraph and I sound crazy. Enough about maths.)

In the midst of this chaotic year, I’ll be going to BD inshaallah – exactly 40 days later. I have a things-to-do-before-I-go-to-BD list somewhere, which includes many things like ‘lose 10 kilos’ and ‘get rid of accent’. I haven’t done any of them. I keep extending the last date for ‘lose 10 kilos’. Right now, I’m giving myself the excuse of HSC. Everyone gets fat during their final year, so I might as well stay this way. With that thought out of the way, I am increasingly getting excited everyday. BD changed me a lot last time I went, and I wonder if it’ll have a similar effect on me this time. I hope I change to be better, instead of coming back with a little bit of my innocence gone, again.

Here you go, dear Miss Emu, an update of my life. Now you have no excuse to not know that I will still be at school for one more year. :P

ps: I met an apu recently who hated maths in high school. Now, she is studying accounting and married to a mathematician. I love irony when its to do with other people’s lives.

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