On Leaving, Learning and Looking Back.

Leaving
I have exactly one week until I leave school, officially. One week of compulsory schooling left. It's a slightly scary thought when I think about it. I'm nearly old enough to leave school. I'm only 15, I still feel young.

Then again, I'm halfway to thirty, which is only a third of ninety, by which time you're doing pretty well. I'm hoping to live to be one hundred, I wanna get a letter from the Queen. Actually, I'll be 100 in 85 years time, it would require something really quite special for the Queen to still be alive after all those years, it'll probably be someone who hasn't even been born yet that'll be on the throne by that time. Strange thought, the world after 100 years. You almost want to wonder if you'll have affected it in any way.

Maybe, helping just one person constitutes helping the world, I mean, everyone's a little bit of the world. So sponsor a child today!

Why am I going after medicine, I could so work in advertising!

Then again, by becoming a doctor I'd help a helluva lot more people than by convincing some to sponsor a child. Actually, it's Friday night, I'm not really in the mood for working it all out.

By this time next week I will be free. Oh, except for the slight problem in that my exams are loooming. I am so screwed, I don't know a thing. I did alright in my mocks without revising much, but I'm determined to do better in the real thing. I need to improve my art final pieces and get them up to A grade standard, cintinue improving my portraits sketchbook especially and stick my mask together. And paint my clay piece. Hmm, slightly problematic there...

I also need to try and improve my German. I got an A in the listening paper we did, I know my coursework was a high A, and I don't know about my speaking (and don't want to know either). I just need to learn key words like "empfehlen", which always seems to appear...What the hell does "empfehlen" mean?

Learning
Learning has pretty much ceased now, and it's just going over the same old stuff again and again, though most people call it 'revision'. We've been doing practice papers, practice questions, except in maths where we're manically trying to finish the entire additional maths course in the next few lessons, and if we don't we have to teach the rest of it to ourselves. Our current chapter title is: Calculus III - applications to kinematics, it's really really fun I can tell you.

Mum always said she liked Calculus. My mother's mind works in a very different way to mine. I always think of Mean Girls when I think of Calculus.

Damian: [reading Cady's class schedule] Health, Spanish... you're taking 12th Grade Calculus?
Cady: Yeah, I like math.
Damian: Eww. Why?
Cady: Because it's the same in every country.
Damian: That's beautiful.
[to Janis]
Damian: This girl is deep.

Har har.

Doing additional maths at the same time as normal maths GCSE with a really crap teacher is never exactly encouraged... Which is why I predict that less than half our class will get a C in it. We got some practice papers, and I could answer a grand total of, I think, 4 questions. I can answer the ones about differentiation and integration, and can do the stuff we;ve been doing recently but there's no way I'm gonna remember the formula's... AAAA

Looking Back
I found my Ragdoll, Polly. In the loft, I'm not sure exactly what sorf of cinfine it was as Gem and Mum were the ones that actually found her. Polly was my favourite toy as a three year old. Mum and Dad like to tell me about when I was three and we were going on holiday and I refused to put Polly through the x-ray device. Eventually, Mum convinced me to put her through, the officials probably thought I'd been brainwashed by some drug smuggler to not let go of the ragdoll under any circumstances.

Then, in a video, Polly is strapped into the back seat of our hire car. I think I was going through a clingy phase...