I have come to the conclusion, as we pass the fateful point that is mid-week, that this is, in fact, one of 'those' weeks. You know the ones. Nothing interesting happens. You're in the direct middle of the term. No good experiences from the other week to jabber about, no holidays to look forward to. Assessments are being given out, people are settling down, and you feel a need for more. I dunno. Either way, apologies for the poor quality of titles lately.
After Ryan and I rushed to school, psych, where I got a C (that means average!) on a throwaway assessment on Multiple Sclerosis. This was partly due to my inability to find graphs about symptoms, and the fact that I lost the instruction sheet. Meh. Then we started mental illness early, after a bit more graph stuff, since we all suck at it.
Maths. I'm making progress. Both ways. I think I'll need a cheatsheet for the test though.
Then everyone (more than half of our year, at least), left for Pakenham, to lead a holy crusade against the savages from Beacon Hills, or something. I enjoyed my biscuits.
Next up was science, which was more chemical equation balancing. I got through it pretty quickly, helped Sally, and mused over Dexter wih Annie. She gave it away, and the answer disappointed me.
Then english. English on a GIS day is different, because since it is a small class, and there are no popularites, we tend to go nuts a bit. The long lunch. What was left of us sat around the table, til Ryan started a juice war with Isobelle, which escalated into her holding onto his hair like a vice, and all the sexual innuendo in the world couldn't help Ryan. He was eventually saved when Mrs Greenwood called him a girl, and made Isobelle let him go. Then Denny and Julian came to the rescue, with paper planes. One was a big A2 blue one. We chucked them around the quadrangle, then from the balcony. The teachers didn't mind, and it was pretty spectacular when they worked. Until, of course, Mrs Carteledge stopped us abruptly, with no good reason.
Aiden, George, and I trooped onto the buses to running training. With Beau and Loki, we discovered a track that seemed to go on for ages, and we all had goes at leading. Aiden and I went way too fast at the start, which pissed everyone else off by the end. It wasn't too bad a run though. Mrs Dyke said I should get running shorts, but then said she had spare pairs. She then mentioned everyone needed to get the new sports uniform by next year. Bastards. We're only there for two years. Mia Ross said she remembered Fraser ("He was a bit of a freak"), and we all agreed to go to Seaspray next week to get some experience in the sand, and hot chips afterwards. I don't like Seaspray.
After school, walked to the Centre with Jason, and we mused on work, since he was handing out resumes. Then I visited the Bis, where they told me to get a tax file number handed in, then they'll pay me next Wednesday. Bugger.
Back home, enjoyed a coffee and checked the news. Worryingly, Watchmen is under strife because of a greedy 20th Century Fox, and the Russia/Georgia conflict has faded, to be replaced with a talent show judge being threatened by a reject's family. Good news from the girl's soccer (two?), bad news from the guy's, and I ripped Jimmy Page and Robert Plant Unledded (NO JOHN PAUL JONES FOR YOU!), and Elephant, and nabbed some tracks from both. 12 minutes of Kashmir, yes please. Then I watched the new Pure Pwnage episode, and the parody of Zero Punctuation is excellent, since is so like a real episode, apart from the accent. Funny how they're attacking Nintendo as well. Plus 'nids in DOW2 (yay?) and Chicago GD pics, finally. Not very good ones, but still pics.
Tomorrow, doubles day, as Lulu put it. Chapel (lol), english, history, psych. Meh. Then band, while Wise Beard Man goes to the parent teacher interviews and gets reports from Mr Cowling about how much I suck at maths, and don't do enough work, and spend too much time talking and distracting others, and that I'm the Antichrist, a filthy communist, a filthy fascist, and am hiding child pornography, weapons of mass destruction and a couple of Tibetans in my shed. Or something.Crossposted.