Disadvantages of being an adult

I was on the bus – am I ever not on the bus? – on Monday on my way to the drama exam and I realised something horrific.

Not being a student is going to suck.

It’s not just that we get free public transport and hence can just hop on any random bus and hope we arrive somewhere at some point in time.

It’s not just the cheaper cinema/theatre/transport tickets we can buy.

It’s not just being able to chuck on our uniform in the morning and not have to stress about what we’re wearing.

THERE WILL BE NO MORE CHECKING OUT HOT PRIVATE SCHOOL BOYS L

This is a big problem, I don’t think you quite understand. I swear private school uniforms actually increase the average male’s hotness level by AT LEAST 57 points. I don’t quite know what it is. But I was sitting on the bus with my head on the side checking out this particularly attractive guy (the uniform, as I said earlier, added 57 hotness points) and thinking, if I weren’t in school uniform this would be twice as weird. Hey, if I weren’t in school uniform this would probably be illegal.

So I’m making the most of my gorgeous uniform – “We get the fellows in brown and yellow” – and enjoying the view, so to speak, for as long as possible.

In other news, my HSC is 50% completed – I have done five out of ten units, and know people who have only done two out of twelve. Schadenfreude Clare escapes again. Belonging killed me. Drama was weird but okay. Modules were brilliant. J Now I can relax and try to remember that entire language I need to know by next Thursday ...

Love you like private school boys ... *teenage-girly-sigh*

x

:)

Tomorrow my HSC begins. As in, tomorrow. As in, not today, but tomorrow.

This is a very strange feeling.

Today my parents bought me a huge bouquet of flowers, the prettiest and girliest bouquet I have ever seen, and it has little good luck lady bugs stuck onto some of the leaves.

Not real lady bugs.

They also got me a card and Bruv signed it saying:

“Good luck in the HSC. Your doing well anyways.”

Which was a nice sentiment.

And because Bruv wasn’t there when they gave it to me Father signed it for him saying:

“Good luck I guess. Love Patrick.”

Bruv has this thing about always finishing off anything nice he says with “I guess” – “Thanks for driving me to school Clare, I guess,” – “Good luck in your French orals, I guess,” – “This pasta is nice, I guess,” ... it’s like he can’t feel emotions or he’ll explode or something. It’s pretty funny.

Sometimes I can’t blame him for not thanking me for driving him to school – did I tell you about the time that I ran over his foot? That was pretty awkward.

Anyway, so the HSC is tomorrow as in tomorrow as in not today tomorrow and I should probably go back to studying. But you know what? I’m super prepared. We’re ALL super prepared. This is a year’s worth of work and so soon we will never have to remember silly things like:

-           

Oh my gosh I have no idea what to write there ... :S This is not a good sign.

NO MATTER. SOME INSPIRATION FOR YOU ALL:

Love you like sixteen days until I’m finished forever ...

x

My HSC Inspiration

I HAVE AN IDEA FOR A CAKE.

I invented it myself.

I really did.

It is called the Six Band Cake.

It has six layers to represent each of the bands that I am going to get.

Also, each of the subjects I want to get band six in:

MODERN

FRENCH

DRAMA

ENGLISH ADVANCED

ENGLISH EXTENSION

ENGLISH EXTENSION TWO

The Modern layer will be chocolate to represent the mud in the trenches during WWI.

The French layer will be blueberry because blue is one of the colours of the French flag, did you know this?

The Drama layer will be rainbow because drama is craaaaaaazy.

The English Advanced layer will be a simple sponge because Advanced is boring.

English Extension will be raspberry because red is the colour of communism and people feared that after the bomb etc.

English Extension Two will be chocolate again because I like chocolate and English Extension Two is all about doing what you like. Just saying.

Each layer will be separated by whipped cream and a thin layer of toffee (so it crunches, not so your teeth break when you bite it) to represent the hard stuff during the HSC, like exams, and the soft, fluffy bits of the HSC, like the common room and, you know, not exams.

It will be topped by a mixed-berry-and-chocolate-cream goo not for any particular symbolic reason, but because goo is just really yummy okay goodness gracious.

WOULD YOU LIKE SOME BAND SIX CAKE? CALL ME AFTER THE HSC ;) WE CAN EAT IT TOGETHER IN THE BATH. << Cat in the Hat reference. No? At least, that’s how I remember it … maybe that’s coming from some other slightly weirder part of my subconscious (i.e. the weird bit that wasn’t inspired by Dr Seuss). Oh well.  J

Love you like my back-up plan: organiser of post-HSC kids' parties.

x

One Week To Go ...

What are you doing as of this moment?

Lying on a picnic blanket in the garden with a cup of tea, casually booing when the neighbours are cheering at the Rugby World Cup.

What should you be doing as of this moment?

Writing more essays ... I’ve done five today though and my hands are about to fall off.

The HSC is in a week. What is keeping you alive?

Too much tea, a jumper that smells like a fireplace, the beautiful spring air and my dog. I’m bouncing stats of the death tolls during the Troubles off her.

What are you doing tomorrow?

Going to the library with Tazmunia, hopefully, until 10pm. A lot of English study because I haven’t done anything for Paper One yet awkward.

What will you be doing in a week (and about eighteen hours)?

Sitting in the MPH with thirteen other girls, hopefully not laughing and chatting like we did during our reading time in trials, trying to remember something about The Threepenny Opera and Mother Courage.

What is getting on your nerves?

The fact that because I haven’t put a subject into the majority of these sentences, the computer has done that stupid green underlining thing saying YOUR GRAMMAR SUCKS. FIX IT GIRLIE! I’m ignoring it.

Anything else we ought to know?

SORRY that I haven’t written in a while. Perhaps after the HSC/during procrastination time I’ll finish the Camper’s Camper Guide to Camping and post it, it’s very informative and stuff that everyone should know. Especially the Best Group Ever as we’re going camping after the HSC and it’s good to know how to do it. My HSC starts Monday week which is a little bit scary and my eyes hurt from writing so many essays. Also, my pinky really hurts from playing the guitar (procrastination) because my steel strings pretty much sliced it in half. Or something less dramatic.

So that’s where I am at the moment. Not too scared about the HSC. There’s just a lot to know and I don’t feel as if it’s all getting squished into my head. I will feel a bajillion times better after Paper Two (the 19^th – ten days from now argh).

Until next time, mes amis, please enjoy this beautifully-written blurb on the box of tissues sitting on my desk.

Sorbent Velvet is luxuriously soft and strong. Our unique through-air dried tissue technology creates a luxuriously soft tissue that is gentle on your skin. Velvet Large tissues are even larger for the ultimate luxury tissue experience.

Oh dear.

Love you like the word luxuriant. Oh my goodness I love that word so much. Want to woo me (haha), pretty much just say the word luxuriant a lot. Actually don’t ... that’s sort of creepy.

OKAY BYEEEE.

x

In These Past Few Weeks ...

I have:

1.       Dressed up in my junior uniform and revisited my childhood by playing Foil Ball on the Lowers.

That's a foil ball -- basically a ball made of the foil from our lunches because we're not organised enough to bring a real ball. :) (Photo courtesy of Carol)

2.       Danced like an idiot in the dark in the boys’ hall and lost trivia pathetically.

3.      Gone to our champagne breakfast in Moore Park West along with the police and our deputies (both decided it was too tame to bother with and left pretty much straight away).

4.      Walked into our assembly with Rebecca Black playing, before dancing like an idiot to a dubstep version of our school song, singing an abridged version of “Under the Sea”, laughing at our skit called “Finding Mimmo”, watching Anne Dao take over school captaincy and telling everyone who has skipped classes that, “If you don’t come to school to study, come for your friends!” and crying pathetically whilst attempting to sing our medley of farewell songs.

5.      Danced like an idiot on Bronte Beach with my beautiful friends as the sun went down and smashed Lox and Tersa at beach volleyball. Latian and I, we are actually amazing at beach volleyball.

6.      Spent hours and hours making our graduation video with Alex and my fair Adie.

7.      Had a bajillion class parties ... except in our last double period of advanced where we actually were lectured at for an hour and twenty minutes.

8.      Cried pathetically in modern when we talked about what we would miss at school.

9.      Sprinted through unknown Eastern suburbs streets to make sure Laurin’s door was locked and felt like a superhero.

10.   Shared the most delicious desserts with my brilliant Superprefects on Crown Street.

11.    Got to school at 7am in my pyjamas to eat croissants, receive our gorgeous yearbooks, open the letters we wrote to ourselves in year seven (I teased myself for having the HSC, which backfired splendidly, thanks 12-year-old Clare) and finally show the graduation video TWICE to many tears (NOT MINE!! I didn’t cry at all on Wednesday!) And then quickly got changed into our muck-up costumes.

Lox is the Grinch, Tara is the Reindog, Carol is the Christmas Tree and I am Cindy Lou Who from the Grinch Who Stole Christmas. Lox did the hair, it has a styrofoam cup underneath. Isn't it COOOOOOOL? (photo courtesy of Tara)

12.    Swum in JUB’s infinity pool in rainbow long-johns and pyjama top, before drip-drying in her apartment over-looking the Opera House.

13.   Been evacuated from JUB’s apartment due to an electrical fire, then walked around the Opera House for fifteen minutes at sunset while we waited to be let back inside, then rescued the stir-fry we had been in the middle of cooking and realised the udon was perfectly cooked. J

14.   Found Macheath from Threepenny Opera attractive with my beautiful drama class ... ability to sing and tap-dance really does excuse all criminal behaviour.

15.   Cried pathetically at Chakkers’ and Laurin’s beautiful graduation speech, felt incredibly embarrassed that our principal mentioned my year ten music performance in her speech, laughed at how cute the year seven and year eleven farewell speeches were.

16.   Graduated from school.

17.   Made a huge circle on the Lowers holding hands with the entire grade, sung the school song and sprinted into the centre of the circle for a ginormous and slightly painful 169-person group hug.

18.   Dressed up in a pretty dress, proposed a toast to our teachers that no one heard, took a million photos, signed a million yearbooks.

The beautiful Tazmunia (photo courtesy of Tara)

19.   Had D&Ms on the bus.

20.  Revisited the chocolate shop (which represents our brilliant junior years) and giggled ridiculously from sugar-shots and a chocolate overload.

21.    Made a Chocolate and Raspberry Guts Delight Cake and shivered over it at Maroubra Beach for Tararara’s 18^th party.

22.   Had it confirmed that my no-alcohol-(AT LEAST)-until-21 policy is a good idea J

So as you may be able to see, it is a bit of an anticlimax that I have found myself at home after all that with barely anything to do but study. On Friday night I even had a dream that I was at the Advanced Paper One exam and had not studied for it at all, and was trying to think up a good concept for a belonging story before I went in ... my idea was to tell the story of a conchie during WWI. I think I might try writing that, after all, it is what my subconscious has told me.

However, if there is one thing I know for sure it’s that my last weeks of school were simply AMAZING. Here is a whole lot of love and thanks to all the people that I spent them with.

Love you like brilliant times with lovely people.

x

If you had a like button, I would click it ;)

What do you reckon? Pick-up line of our generation? I think I’m just going to run around poking people every time they do something awesome and say, “I wasn’t actually poking you, I was pressing your like button.” Actually awkward, that’s an awful thing to do. I retract that statement.

Spent today at Jeds Under the Bed (JUB)’s amazing Opera House-side apartment with her and Lox after our Advanced exam, thank God 2u English is over and done with (just two more units to go yay!) We ate salted caramel macarons from the Lindt Café, then chocolate and fruit nuggets and rip-off Grainwaves at JUB’s apartment and finished it all off with a ten minute visit to her GYM AND POOL, IN HER BUILDING. We were living the life.

Also, JUB has these awesome binoculars and one-way glass, so we also spied on tourists chilling on the Opera House stairs and a bunch of middle-aged office workers playing rugby in the park.

In other news, I have a bone to pick with society in general. Today on the bus I saw this advertisement:

...

The message is clearly that Australian values suggest physical beauty as of the utmost importance, as well as that a woman can’t be beautiful unless she is slender, tanned and wearing a bikini. Nice one, ad company. Do you want me to point out that this is the 21^st century or can you read a calendar by yourself? No? FUCK OFF BACK TO THE 1950s CHAUVINISTIC BASTARDS! This ad is actually sickening.

Oh and the final instalment of the story will appear on your screens tomorrow? Mayhaps. I am just too tired right now, and hence am going to bed.

Love you like playing spies from JUB’s amazing apartment. Gluck maths girls for your exam tomorrow!

x

(And yes, I am fully aware that the title of this post really had nothing to do with anything much in it. And no, I don't care in the slightest.)

Number 17 (Part Three)

Part One
Part Two
Part Four

III

The third most surprising thing that happened to me was that I couldn’t. Number 17 kept hanging around me like a bad smell. I began to think he was stalking me. He literally appeared like magic at the back of my English classroom, answering a question on existentialism. He referred to a basketball. A basketball, he had said poetically, is just a basketball. It’s what we do with it, that makes it a basketball.

Our English teacher nodded appreciatively because English teachers like bullshit like that. Especially italicised bullshit. I simply groaned and retreated under my desk. Caroline said I was having some existential problems of my own. My teacher suggested writing poetry, and if that failed, to pop by the school counsellors’.

What really, really annoyed me was that by Thursday I still hadn’t worked out what Number 17’s name was. He was in my English class, I had spoken to him at the zip heater, hell, I had even watched his basketball game and I had no idea what he was called. I began to come up with potential names in my head. Gabriel, I projected, or maybe Quillon, Rutherford, Kensington, Winthrop? The possibilities danced in my mind like sugar-plum fairies, quickly gathering speed until they formed a little whirlwind of debris. WIN-QUILL-RUTH-SING-EL-FORD-TON-THROP-LON-BRI-KEN, over and over again. And if Number 17’s name did end up being Winquillruthsingelfordtonthroplonbriken, it would probably explain his quick understanding of the concept of existentialism. 

***

Trials have started! One down, five to go. And then Extension Two due. And then French HSC orals. And then Drama HSC performance. AND THEN COMPLETION. (And then the actual HSC ... :D)

My excellent procrastination recently has been making my year 12 graduation video. It's a secret, so I can't say anything else. But so far (I hope) it's really cute, nostalgic, funny ... not to get your hopes up or blow my own trumpet but I'm pretty proud of it. SO FAR! Eesh I hope everyone likes it.

Life after trials is going to be amazing. I'll be able to work on the graduation video for seven hours on a weekend (like I did this weekend, yes, the weekend before my trials) without feeling guilty. I'll be able to go formal dress shopping YAY. I'll be able to make my costume for muck-up day and all the other days we have during our second last week of school. Plus, after trials, JETS ARE GO! That's pretty exciting.

One day, after my grade sees it of course and they let me upload it, you guys can have a look. Maybe.

Until then, wish me luck for the rest of my trials. I hope you're enjoying story time.

Love you like the (very) near future,

x

More than a Sore

At this very moment Bruv is sitting in the study with a permanent marker and a bit of cardboard, doing a PD assignment on genital herpes – his tagline is “MORE THAN A SORE”, which I think is pretty good. When I escaped from my essays to get a glass of water and saw his homework, a wave of nostalgia hit me. Ah, PD ... those bludgey periods every week in P1 and P2 (both of which smell like feet), doing role plays about drugs and modules on ‘risky behaviour’. I still remember in year six when we got a different teacher to talk to us about STIs, and she came in with a whole bunch of equipment and sheets and proudly announced, “I’m just going to give you all some STIs ... I MEAN SHEETS ON STIs! SHEETS!"

Later on we blew up a condom and left it on our teacher’s desk as a surprise. That was the type of 11-year-olds we were at Wilkins Primary. We had the best time, too.

Anyway so then I was sitting in front of my Stalinism as totalitarianism essay with my rainbow lollies and tissues littering my desk (I’m a little ill, thanks immune system) and I thought, I could go for a PD assignment right now. I’d actually give anything to look up statistics on the internet, maybe Google image some pictures of cannabis, then Word Art a heading – font size 100 – to stick down on a sheet of cardboard (coloured to go with the theme).

Unfortunately I don’t have the time. I do, however, have the time to write to you, apparently! Isn’t that lovely? I will now proceed to go back to work; I am just a little screwed for my trial examinations. J

Although I can’t help but wonder why they thought it necessary to teach 11-year-olds the whole condom-on-the-banana thing.

Love you like “homework”.

x

The Last First Day of Term ... EVER

The Class of 2011 has had exactly fifty first days of term in our schooling career, and this, my friends, is the last one. EVER.

Just take a moment to soak in the incredible wave of emotions that comes with that statement. A very strong sense of nostalgia, a bunch of stress and guilt concerning our trials in three weeks, and this massive excitement that I just can’t get over. WE’RE SO ALMOST NEARLY DONE, GUYS.

Now all those emotions are out of the way, or at least chilling politely at the back of your mind, let’s move on to some other things.

1.       Yes. I am the worst Harry Potter fan ever. I have not yet written a blog on my feelings on the film. Don’t worry, I will, I promise. And until then, just keep yourself going on the thought that I really, really loved it, and thought it was a very fitting send-off to our most beloved book series. (Not that it will ever end, mind you.)

2.       These next few weeks (probably until week seven next term, so a month and a half or so) are going to be pretty much incredibly stressful, work-filled and scary, judging by how much work I managed to finish during the holidays (not enough). A quick example of this is:

a.      French trial oral this Wednesday.

b.      Hamlet assessment (15%) this Thursday.

c.       Extension English assessment (10%) on Monday.

d.      Drama Group Performance trial Monday night.

e.      Drama Individual Performance trial Tuesday week.

f.        Trials week four and five.

g.      French HSC oral assessment the weekend after trials.

h.      Drama HSC performances the week after trials.

i.        Extension Two major work due the week after trials.

Not a quick example, but nonetheless. That’s my term for you J But after that fun will prevail in the form of binball matches, muck-up day, muck-up assembly, tunic day, our graduation lunch and breakfast, the farewell assembly, the talent quest, and I’m hoping I can pass it with the Superprefects to have a Super Happy Fun Day for the whole school at the end of term. MAYBE. J I will explain all these things later ... aka after the trials. So the point of all that was to say that I probably won’t be updating this quite as often, or quite as detailed, as I have been. Or I will be, and thus failing my HSC. Thanks guys!

3.      Um and then I have a quick Clare-is-an-idiot story to tell you about today. ENJOY (it will not be in the numbered section).

Finished a long hard day of studying at State Library with the gang. Bought a really yummy chai latte from Lindt Café, and still am loving how much of a douche it makes me sound to say that. (Least it wasn’t soy LOL!) Um ... excuse that. I know there’s a delete button! It’s too far away from my pinky on this keyboard though, and I can’t be bothered to move it all the way up there to press it.

Anyway the gang left to catch their spiffy trains from Martin Place and I decided to walk to Town Hall to catch my bus, because I could and I had to drink my chai before I got on the bus. So I get to Town Hall and there’s the pedestrian footpath in front of you know, Woolies and SES and all those shops etc, and every now and then along it are the stairs that go down to the station. So I’m walking along, feeling very grown up with my take away cup of chai and computer and so on and so forth, and I hear a bus coming behind me so I turn around to see what number it is.

The 436! Of course it’s the 436. So I start hurrying to get on it ... unfortunately I forget to turn around and look where I’m going before I do the hurrying, and I fall headfirst down the stairs to Town Hall Station.

OH NO CLARE NOT YOUR BEAUTIFUL FACE! PLEASE TELL US THAT WE ARE SPARED FROM ITS DESTRUCTION DUE TO YOUR GENERAL STUPIDITY.

Well, you are! Because who did I fall on top of but a rather shocked-looking, rather attractive Young Sexy Lawyer Man.

Not the one Chloe saw outside of the Lindt Café. And actually, probably not that attractive, and maybe not even a lawyer (he was just wearing a suit ... but A SUIT NONETHELESS, MAN), but in the end I don’t even care what his profession was because I didn’t kill myself/break my arm and not be able to write in my trial HSC.

I didn’t even mind the large group of people laughing at me, or the kind/embarrassing ones helping me and said Young Sexy Lawyer Man up off the stairs.

Love me for my stupidness like I love you as much as the fact that SCHOOL’S ALMOST OUT ... FOREVER!!! (Unfortunately there are no such things as SuperItalics L)

x

Happiness in General and Poetic Thoughts #5

I’m happy – despite no longer coming first in modern L -- and it’s because I have very nearly finished my extension two draft (it needs editing, but I’ve only got a few more words to write write and then I’m GOOD), and I’ve helped Jermione finish the year 12 Chronicle report and it’s lovely, I think, and I had chocolate ice cream for dessert with bits of raspberry liquorice cut up in it. I came up with that idea myself. (I had to spend a long time thinking of how to spell liquorice and dessert. Both are difficult words to spell. I used to be so good at spelling too. It’s a real shame.)

Trials are scary – we got our timetable and I have Modern (three hours) and Drama (90 mins) on the same day – although I know people with six hours of exams on one day so I really can’t complain. Plus no one really cares about drama theory ... I think :S so that’s nice.

Also, it’s almost holidays – sorry, I meant “holidays” because these holidays are going to be pretty full of work. You should see the timetable I drew up though, it’s so pretty and organise-y. Purple for fun, blue for school-related excursions, green for study, pink for homework, and yellow for other. It’s sort of beautiful. And when I can’t decide whether something is fun or a school-related excursion (such as Kate and Chloe and me having a GP day sometime) I’m going to do a multi-coloured swirl.

So, a poem for you because I’m happy, and because I’ve officially titled this post “Happiness in general and Poetic Thoughts #5”:

Wishful Thinking

I wish I were my dog, her name is Maude.

She sleeps all day.

Sometimes she goes for walks.

Sometimes she eats.

But mainly she sleeps.

I would be Maude and I would sleep all day and eat sometimes and walk sometimes and I would get really really fat.

But I wouldn’t mind.

Because I would be a dog.

(I don't believe you are, as of yet, acquainted with Maudie. This is she, in younger, cuter days. Just kidding, she's still adorable of course.)

*Likes to think she's funny*

Thursday morning we had our Extension English exam in which you get a stimulus (usually a picture) and have to write a creative story based on that. Milling around the entrance to the exam hall, we reminded each other not to take the stimulus literally. Our new catchphrase for English creative exams?

METAPHORS BE WITH YOU.

Love you like really bad puns and pop culture references.

x

Exams and Auditions and Ferries and Manuscripts and PACKAGES

First exam today – English Advanced. Those rascally teachers, making out the question to be something impossible. Not that hard, just saying. Still, my thesis was rubbish. Fitzgerald is hopeless and EBB is hopeful? I’m going to bury my head in a hole. LIKE AN EMU. Um anyway.

I’m going to audition for a part in a film. That’s some news. Actually not really, seeing as I haven’t actually done it yet. But I’m going to, so wish me luck, or something. J

Went on a ferry to my friend Bec’s apartment the other day. Wish I could catch a ferry to my house. Ferries are actually the most amazing thing, half an hour on the deck, wind whipped hair red cheeks waving and blowing kisses to other ferry-catchers. Arrived at her pretty amazing apartment. Watched Dance Academy and ate popcorn and drank cordial because we’re still five at heart. It’s the best way to be.

Oh and whilst procrastinating I was thinking why I started blogging, and I remembered that about this time last year I was writing a manuscript ... remember that? Ah the good ol’ days. Then I hid it from my page because I was so embarrassed by its terribleness and you know what, for a first attempt, it wasn’t too bad, you know? So once this HSC thing is all over, I’m going to finish it. Yeah. Even if I did lose my USB with a bajillion scenes on it. And even though I don't particularly want to write some of the scenes. I SHALL, and I shall feel superhuman for finishing something for once.

So excited, I got a package in the mail today, isn’t it so exciting when you get a package? It’s The Poetics of Space (the classic look at how we experience intimate places) by Gaston Bachelard, I’m so pumped to read it YAY. So I’m going to do that now.

Love you as much as if you were stuffed into a yellow envelope, addressed and stamped and sealed and put in my letter box.

x

I didn't use copy OR paste.

Exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams emamx exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams emaxs exams exams exams exams maxes exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams emazs smaxe exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exams exasm exams exams exmas exams ecmas exams emxas exams exmas exams exams exams exams exams emaxs exams exams exams exams exmas exams exams exams emxa emxsea exams eexamsms exasmes exams es mexases exams esmcxas examsx aexamse xmaexs eexams examse scxeamsfhamx examsgjiakgaxms exams efk exams fiaemx eeffjolafjnm,axm,eeafgijkm,aexafuckmsemxasmexamsemxamsemxamsemnakgmaemxamsgbjsmaeccbagmaaexamsbgujamr agmniakmsexamsEXAM S,

Funny thing is, I’m not nervous in the least. Nor stressed. Nor prepared. I’m just a drama queen.

SO: good luck to everyone, I hope your exams go spiffingly, I hope you remember to BREATHE REMEMBER TO BREATHE and don’t take caffeine tablets, kids, you’ll die as soon as you turn into a camel. (I’m being ironic. Trust me. It’s cool?)

And other than that, make sure you sleep well tonight, eat your Weet-bix, and in the end, put it in perspective. Firstly, I know you all and you’re all going to be fine. You’re the smartest people I know in the entire world and you DO know your stuff, no matter how much study you have done. Remember, the last few weeks in class have been all about our teachers getting us ready for these exams, so whether or not you have specifically studied, you’ve done at least four or five hours of exam prep IN CLASS. IT’LL BE OKAY.

So yes. I’m not going to wish you 100%. I’m going to wish you that brilliant fuzzy feeling of achievement.

We’re going to be awesome.

Love you as much as Danielle’s belonging creative.

(P.S. This song is brilliant, and I post it IRONICALLY. J)