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

New and improved ways to procrastinate

I was studying, but now I’m making soap with Bruv. We’ve got some real delicacies brewing in the kitchen – green basil soap with mint leaves, brown chocolate soap with chocolate powder sprinkled on top, layered purple vanilla and chocolate soap, red rosemary soap and dark blue soap with oatmeal on the top.

It smells a bit. But it’s fun, and sticky, and now my hands are disarmingly clean.

When we restock our ingredients we’re going to make Chai and Honey soap, and then some using Fruitalicious tea from T2. (My brainchildren. I think I should go and start my own brand of soap. I could sell it at the markets each Saturday, what do you reckon?)

I made a bit of a documentary in order to immortalise Bruv and my sudden enthusiasm for soap-creating. It’s cool. Maybe I’ll show you it one day, along with Maudie doing awesome tricks. These tricks are awesome, trust me.

Uh. Um. I might go and write some notes for modern history, goodness me I need to. Love you like ... guessed it yet? SOAP. Soap soap soap soap. Also, Chloe’s new EP:

Thirty days has September

April, June and November

All the rest have 31 except ...

February aloooooone.

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

Bleaurgh Comme D'hab

Procrastinating from doing my French writing piece. It’s only 150-200 words. I just can’t think though. I’ll think I’ll do it in my free tomorrow morning I LOVE HIGH SCHOOL. (I have twelve frees a week mhmm take that.) Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight so:

It’s a real pity Stephanie Meyer didn’t have the same self-restraint.

That’s all I wanted to say really. Night-night sleep now please it’s good for you.

x