Yeah, the time has come for the first set of AS/A2 modular exams (and mid-terms I hear). I'm not looking forward to them, and I doubt you are either, but we've gotta get through them. One of the main crappy things about exams is the stress they cause, and that sucks. Revision is the next crappy thing, but unlike stress, that can't be avoided. Now, I have this great way of avoiding stress and staying in a good mood (which totally produces better results), and it's real simple, only has two points to follow, and you probably already do them to some extent anyway.
Eat as much junk food as your body wants over the exam time. Make sure you get enough liquids and good carbohydrates as well, but if your stomach is feeling a chocolate bar or a cake, shove two down there just to be sure. Give up fruit and veg too (unless you crave it) cos studies have shown that knowing you have to eat it pulls people's moods down, and we don't want that. Screw vitamins, bring on the sugar. This 'diet' will make you feel sluggish over a month, so keep it for two weeks max, and health experts will probably say it's rubbish, but it really makes you feel good.
Surround yourself with comedy. Nows the time to check out that sit-com you've been meaning to on youtube, or rent Mean Girls/American Pie. Or even re-read or first time read the humorous transcripts on my main blog, Five Past Tomorrow! There's loads on there now, and they've had great reviews. Anyway, the rule is: when you're not revising, be laughing. I watched the entire run of Dinner Ladies during my GCSEs, and it made the time good fun.
Hope that helps. Other bits that may help from my archives include:
Awesome exam day playlist - seriously helps you to get in the zone, motivated and energised, plus the music's not that bad either.
The Mother of all homemade energy drinks - easy to make, far cheaper than a red bull and gives way more of a kick. Great for giving revision energy, exam-doing energy, or after a long exam recovery energy. Tastes good too. If you get super-high and do crazy stuff, please tell me what happened!
A collection of funny/stupid things that took place in my GCSE maths exam - For comic relief, and to read the cause of 'face to mammary glands for 30 mins' in the middle of an exam. Good luck with it all! And even if you're not examming it soon, still check that stuff out, it's worth a click.
Sorry there's been no posting for a while. I think we all seriously underestimated the amount of work A-levels were gonna be plus the others just keep forgetting to post! Ah well, you've got me again. I'll try to be more regular in the new year!
Something most of us were looking forward too about sixth form (apart from having our own common rooms, but they're too small and silent anyway) was FINALLY GETTING TO CAST ASIDE THE CRAPPY UNIFORM AND WEAR OUR OWN CLOTHES! I don't normally use capitals, but as anyone who remembers my struggles with authority over the uniform code throughout my school life, a lack of uniform is something I'm passionate about. For those of you who don't know what our uniform consisted of, it was plain black trousers (or skirt), white collered shirt and a hideous black-ish school jumper. I hated that jumper with a mad and crazy passion, similar to how I feel about leopard print leggings and fur. Consequently, I barely wore it except to exams and assemblies, instead opting to wear my variety of black waistcoats over the shirt (and earning myself the imaginitive knickname 'Waistcoat' from Liam and Tysoe). *Nostalgic* My favourite waistcoat must've been confiscated at least 5 times.
But anyway, we get to wear our own clothes, be unique etc, but the irony is, most of us wear the same stuff as each other. Not carbon copies, but pretty close. T-shirts, hoodies, shirts, leggings, black jackets... and of course, the omnipresent jeans form our new uniform. And the worst part is, it's basically inescapable. If you were like 'screw t-shirts', how many other alternatives are there that aren't already out there? Plus we all have to shop for clothes, meaning the clothes we buy will most likely be modern ones, therefore bear a certain similarity. Bummer for all you hipsters.
Anyway, enough pessimism about the corporate world sucking our individuality like juice from an orange - I finally learnt to dress myself (vaguely) well! I can just about match colours now (apparently my belief that everything in my wardrobe went with everything else was wrong) and have learnt that checks don't go with checks. All valuable life skills. I've also realised that I've worn some form of boots every day except one to school so far. This includes my hiking boots, badass black boots and variety of converse. Mmm, maybe I have something going on about showing my ankles in public.
The older I get, and particularly recently, the more I realize that life isn't going to be how I imagined it (is that just a tad naive?). Not in a bad way, just not how I expected. Plus, I hate when people whine on their blogs about there lives if there's no real problem, and I have no actual problems, only work to avoid. Also, I don't want you lovely readers to be surrounded by negativity to be honest!
Don't get me wrong, I never worked out one of those 'life paths' for myself - y'know, marriage, children, mortgage etc. I might get all those things, but I might not and I'm not too bothered about that right now. But by unexpected, I mean life is just so much more than I know. It's exciting to know there's so much out there, but, like all the customizable functions a mobile phone, I don't know what to do with it all. Through sixth form and thinking of the omnipresent Future, I've started to see how broad things are, but how narrow the life we have the time to live will probably be. We'll move in similar social circles, do the same sort of things, make the same decisions and mistakes and be the people we grew into. I don't think that life is boring by any account, we will usually choose who we associate with and what we do, therefore you'd hope we enjoy what we pick, but there's only so much we can do in a lifetime, even if we spend our time as a nomad.
Dudes, prove it wrong.
Listen to me; 16 years old and already resigned to the fact that 'life's too short'! It's a shame really, that it doesn't go on longer, as I would have quite liked several highly successful careers and degrees, let alone a few platinum albums and an Oscar in the same year I get a Nobel Prize! So yeah, my super-realistic life probably won't be led by one person, and I feel resent because of this. Not the bitter, caustic resent that causes people to smash people's wedding cakes and cut family members out of wills, but resent nevertheless. I blame the schools and I blame society. What they tell you as a kid is that you can be anything you want, and that you can do everything so long as you work for it. This is blatently untrue, as I'm sure you've worked out by now. Often, no matter how much you want something, you just won't get it cos for all number of reasons. But stuff it, you'll probably get something, and ultimately being alive is better than not, even if the afterlife rocks, because you only get one go at being you.
The best policy that I've seen so far is to go all Buddhist and try and be happy with what you have - try and enjoy crap things like washing up an work, accept life for what it is and damn well make your inner voice the best it can be, cos you've got to spend your lifetime listening to it!
You know the score. The Bad Day that keeps returning, like a cold sore or ant infestation, you can't shake it off, can't fight it, can't stop it. The thing that has to be faced, no matter what. Maybe the day before the Bad Day you forget what's on the horizon for you and naively enjoy yourself. Then, *facepalm moment* (Doh!), you remember and your happiness is instantly sucked into the black hole created by the day, and you tumble down the Vortex of Depression, much like Alice down the rabbit hole.
These are the stages of the Vortex of Depression:
Shock: You have just had the horrendous epiphany, so retreat into your cave, possibly with sugary supplies, and refuse to talk to anyone for a while. Your face will almost exactly mirror that of the 15 who finds out he's going to be a father, but then vaguely remembers not using a condom (dude, why not? They're free!).
Denial: You will disbelieve what the calender (curses, now everything has turned against you!) and common sense tells you, and deny that tomorrow is a day to be avoided. You will become very sad when you realize this is not the case.
Anger: After the knowledge of the next day has sunk in, you will turn ravid with rage. All things that irritate you will perish. Your family will suffer. Bubble wrap will be popped in a vicious and vindictive way. You will behave like Margret Thatcher crossed with a nasty occurrence of PMS. Here's a 'nifty' cartoon I drew for ya to illustrate the point.
Plotting: This stage often continues until the bad event of the day has been got over with. You will think up increasingly outlandish ways to avoid the day, usually involving some sort of physical impairment. They will start simply, such as inhale airwick to get a chesty cough rendering you ill for the next day, but quickly progress to the absurd, such as run over by a wheelie bin to step on a plant pot and fake-rupture your spleen. If you are in the middle of the unwanted event, then your instincts will tell you to abandon plotting and just run out of there! Ignore those impulses.
For me, my Bad Days that I try fruitlessly to escape whilst trying to resist that desire, are Mondays and Wednesday. This is because I have double chemistry and AT LEAST double physics (then latin) on those days. The subjects are alright by themselves, but 4-5 hours of them is mental and physical (because of having to sit on lab stools all day) torture. Can you believe I almost considered using my horrendous guitar-dropped-on-head injury to attempt to get out of school on Monday? I know, you feel soooo sorry for me, stuff the homeless and poor people that can't even afford food, let alone an education, my Bad Days really put things into perspective. And if they don't, my humongous workload certainly would!
On a philanthropic note, Christmas is fast approaching and I have a few charity oriented ideas to help out those in need that me and my family are going to put into action, and it'd be great if you had a quick think about some cool stuff you could do for worse-off people around the Christmas holidays, cos y'know, although our lives may suck sometimes, chances are they really don't.
Now, firstly I have to apologise for the incredibly long build up to my initial post – no doubt you’ve all been waiting in suspense for this grand moment. But hey, I like to build up the tension, keep you on the edge of your seats. So....behold.
Now, as a student in the younger years sixth form seems like this type of paradise – the ultimate school year(s). You’re promised a never ending list of delights; your OWN clothes, free periods, a limited amount of lessons of your own choice PLUS you get to cut in the tuck queue.
But alas, September arrives and the realisation hits you. These misleading statements above are not all that they seem to be.
My own sixth form experience began on our two induction days, well awaited by us enthusiastic year 11 students, fresh out of the exam halls (GCSEs). Five minutes into the day, I’m hanging with a few members of the group outside, sitting on the bench which –back then- we had chosen as our own (due to being kicked out of the social ‘cause of language orals) each admiring everybody’s choice of 6form induction clothing, when –THUMP- hit by a flying ham sand which. Turning around I see a huddle of giggling year nines. I mean WHAT?! Well, obviously – this was a sign. My 6th form life was doomed from then on. Fate TRIED to tell me to get out, & get out fast, but I – the determined person I am – ignored fate. Not two minutes later Katie (member of the crew) is hit by a flying piece of orange peel – but as Ab so rightly said at the time, fruit skin is not animal carcass.
But for future eager 6 formers...just a few warnings.
1) Just because it’s less subject by NO MEANS does it mean less work. Hell no.
2) Wearing your own clothes is cool for the first few weeks of planed wardrobe preparation... but then you get to the 5 mins to catching the bus, ‘WHAT THE HELL AM I GOING TO WEAR?!’ stage.
3) Apparently they don’t expect you to sleep in sixth form.
4) Free periods=work periods.
5) That old folk’s tale about cutting in at tuck? (Okay, this is mainly for Woottoners, I admit) but LIE. Year 9s, 10s & 11s – all those 6th formers you see pushing in front of you & you just stand back & accept it, ‘cause they’re 6th formers and it is blatantly another one of their special privileges...well, no they are by no means doing this legitimately. Being a person who’s conscience is easily made guilty (& cutting the queue would plague me for weeks afterwards) so off to the end of the line I go.
But I’m being dramatic. ‘Part from those points stated above, the sixth is not a bad place to be. ‘Specially when you have one awesome group of friends, as I doJ (thought I’d go a bit soppy on you there guys, sorry).
(Dear readers, I'm really sorry I didn't get this post out to you all sooner as I said I would - my internet was murdered and we're still having problems with collating all of our writers. If you're at all interested in writing, the email address is on out contact page. I hope you like this post!)
Damn. I had forgotten how 7am felt. I think that alarms in the morning are just about the most empty sound I've ever heard - they're loud, insistent and strike impending doom in your sleep-clouded mind, but they also have absolutely no substance to them, nothing behind the noise, y'know? It's a cold, cold sound. Anyway, I digress. My alarm went off and I was dragged from my nice warm bed to face the term ahead of me.
In the interests of morale and optimism/realism, here's a great song to kick of the new school year/chapter of life with. Chances are, you've already heard it, but no harm in listening again.
I was a tad apprehensive about starting the school year - it's hard to get back into work after 10 weeks off (note to self: Ab, never take a gap year, it will be your undoing). I won't deny my enjoyment at finally getting to wear my own clothes to school, but I do feel like I've lost my cause by not having any uniform to rebel against. I know, I know, how awful my First World Problems are. Still, I wore a t-shirt on which I'd scrawled 'Barbie is so plastic' (well I think it's hilarious) over a blue shirt that my Mother says does wonders for my eyes, and a pair of hiking boots cos after dragging up to school and back and traipsing around all the buildings, I find my feet can get sore in flat shoes, Plus, the boots allow me to crush people's feet in the too-small corridors if they try and push me or others around. Punks have gotta learn.
It was also interesting to see what sorta stuff people in my year would choose to wear, even if I'm not exactly a big fashion follower! There was a lot of Super Dry stuff about, which I'm blaming on the new Super Dry store that opened recently in Milton Keynes (nearest city to us). Although it mostly looks nice and all, that gear really is a rip-off - you practically have to take out a mortgage to buy one t-shirt. Other things I have learnt this week about dress and myself:
I hate grey trackies with a mad and crazed passion. Seriously, they will never look good on anyone! And what's the deal with wearing them to school anyway guys?
Most of the girls in my year dress tarty.
I regard tarty as tight jeans, tops that I can see bras through and that show skin.
As that is hardly a modern outlook on dress, I am in the wrong century.
After we all assembled in our new sixth form common room (doesn't rock as much as I thought it would, but still, we've reached it's dizzying heights at last!), the timetables were all dished out and I have some really crap days going on. One day I have double chemistry and then triple physics, and on another I have double chem, trip physics and then latin! Heavy, but hopefully I'll survive it. At least I had philosophy (http://www.platoscavealumni.wordpress.com/ for philosophical essays and debates) on the first day which rocked as per norm. This year, me and Cathy (philosophy partner in crime for the past two years, D of E Queen) have been joined by Megan (best friend and premature old lady) which is ace, and the tables have been pushed together so I sit next to Abi (detective and physics loon) too, and we are gonna get some good debates/discussions going, plus eat lots of cakes and tea (our tradition). Something about the subject seems to attract great bakers (Cathy, Harry - shame we lost Liam). Only food tech could ever beat philosophy on the food stakes, I'm telling you!
So, The Rest of My Life is looking good (I hope yours is too!) - A-levels aren't half as much work so far as I thought they'd be, which bodes well for my grades and Oxford uni ambitions. Still, I have totally forgotten how to add up over the holidays which might be a slight hindrance...
Oh, and in other news, the hot new boy that some of my friends were predicting/hoping for has not materialised yet. Any chance he's been directed to your school? I promised them I'd find him!
You may or may not know, but getting into the sixth form at our respective schools involved more than just filling in a form and remembering to hand it in. We had to do all this long, boring (but ultimately life-enhancing right?) exams in most subjects while we were in year 10 and 11 called GCSEs (they used to be known as O-levels back in the day *dude, does anyone even know when 'back in the day' was?*). Well the good news is, everyone on the LITS team passed really well for every subject, and his means we are all definitely joining the sixth form for real. Thank God that all worked out, otherwise this blog would have been a slight sham.
...Or as I prefer to call it, just another school day.
Expectations of Sixth Form life had been quite high among us.. throughout the lowly years of 9, 10 and 11 we hear garbled rumours of the golden 'free' period, and the dodgy dealing in Ccinos cafeteria and the freedom of wearing what we want how we damn well please; only to find out that this supposed induction to ascend us to this godly status gave us none of these. Instead, we discovered the unlimited sadistic streak that all teachers bear as they unleashed pointless activities upon on us for three whole days.
When I say pointless, I mean the usual drill of..
Teacher: "Why are you doing this course?"
Student: "-pause- Becau-"
Teacher: "This is a difficult course I hope you realise! I want no time wasters. I expect this I expect that, we expect you to..."
And so on.
...
Then we had the inevitable 'getting to know each other' activities, which I enjoy a great deal more because it's an utter social etiquette carnage. haha. You are put into the position of sitting at a table with 3 other strangers and one person you recognise from your school but cannot for the life of you remember their name and then told to build a tower together, or solve this problem together, or in my German class case talk to each other in a foreign language you barely know and ask each other about their hobbies and past time activities. Honestly! Now through my many years of being forced into these situations and observing how people react when in this unthinkable social dilemma; I believe you can sort people into 3 categories..
1. The Mouth... the one who decides to bring everyone together and to bombard everyone with pointless small talk. Identifiable by talking quite fast, not always listening and usually is a girl.
2. The Ostrich... typically the one whether capable of speech or not will not under any circumstance want to or feel like they can contribute to the group and is quite fine being a mute. Usually a new person from a different school that nobody's ever heard of.
3. That-Guy-Drawing-A-Knob-On-Someones-Book.... pretty obvious but there's always a class clown who just can't be bothered with any kind of etiquette whatsoever and decides to do their own thing. Typically loud, more often then not a boy. Or a group of them if you're lucky ;)
Now I like to think that I'm a Mouth but to be honest I can be any of them. Whatever the subject though there are a few rules as to how to behave, like a mini survival guide you need to decide when it's appropriate to use them though. Otherwise you don't look like a mouth.. just a an idiot.
The most important rule I think is whenever there's an awkward silence try and sort it as soon as poss.. there's nothing worse then waiting and waiting then two of you speak at once. So as soon as there's a pause go "Sooo- yeah.." and immediately point out an unusual feature of one of the newbies or one of your classmates .
THIS WILL ALWAYS WORK.
For example we had this new guy who joined my tutor group and of course we went through the, "What's your name, Where you from, What subjects are you taking?.." then when all standard conversation starters had been exhausted and we just ended up sighing and looking hopelessly at the ceiling I suddenly said.. "Soooo-yeah, you have an afro. What's that like?" And amazingly that lead us into a whole new realm of conversation on afros, combs, hair care, shampoo and why it's so hard to look good in the wind.
Sooo- yeah guys that actually works.
We know what's expected of us, I don't need to be told a zillion times. I actually got a pack of papers from school this summer informing us of the regulations we had to sign to. Basically we were signing to say: We'll be good.. honestly we promise! But now armed with the knowledge of how to talk to strangers, an array of convincing homework lateness excuses, and the inherited privilege of sitting where we like on the bus I am so feeling ready and looking forward to starting Sixth Form. My biggest problem now is finishing that cruel cruel chemistry homework before August's end and having to expand my wardrobe, or suffer the inappropriate dress code consequences. Ahhh I think I'm going to enjoy this year coming. :)
NB. That's if I'm allowed in! Results are given out tomorrow so fingers crossed.
So, our first ever day in sixth form was finally upon us all, and saddly, it did not live up to my expectations! I think this was for two reasons:
I had just had an entire week away from any school, and to have to get up at the butt crack of dawn just to drag my carcuss 2 miles before the sun had even risen (practically) was rather a shock to the system.
I actually had to do some work at school. I was not expecting that.
I was hoping for lots of really great new people to join the year group, and that did not happen in my opinion. However, I am notoriously picky when it comes to first impressions, so maybe in a couple of months one may be judged worthy, and then will be subjected (unconciously) to rigourous personality and apptitude as a friend tests by me. If they succeed however, then they will gain my unwavering loyalty.
Thankfully the second day was better, mostly because I had fewer lessons, my new red Chucks were worn in after the first days trecking about the school, and classrooms discovered air-con. Instead of giving a long rambling re-cap though, I am simply going to award some of the best and worst moments of the entire experience.
Award for Rudest but Predictable Person
Ms Weiner, for cackling very openly at our latin teacher's huge sweat patches. Granted it wasn't the nicest thing in the world to look at, but give the guy a break - it was damn hot and antiperspirant deoderant barely works anyway.
Latin, but luckily for me, I kind of expected that anyway, so wasn't dissapointed. Not saying that latin itself isn't an interesting subject, but just the lesson is.
Award for the Stupidest Thing Said
Some not-so-bright girl with 'Oh my God, that is such a coincidence, Jesus being born on Christmas day and all!'
Award for the Most Pointless Activity They Made Us Do
Look up ISBN numbers for books about people in the past - I don't mind a history lesson, but I thought stupid activities where you can't even pick the group you work with stopped in the sixth form. Apparently not.
Award for the Scariest Speech
Has to go to Miss Kelly, my ace philosophy teacher with her opening speech filled with horror stories of making us write 1000s of essays, and us having to work for an extra 5 hours after school every damn day! The optimist in me doesn't believe her. (Next year you can keep up with the essays at http://www.platoscavealumni.blogspot.com/)
Award for the Best Gender Mix-up
My psychology teacher - she assumed I was I was a guy and said that everyone in the class conformed to gender norms. Ummm, no!
Award for the Most 'Out There' Piece of Clothing
Cathy wearing her school shoes - no-one else could possibly pull that move off, but she made it cool.
(Note: This is not an official post documenting any sort of life in the sixth, we are simply offering the position of writer to sixthformers (or equivilent) anywhere in the world)
We're always happy for another face to join the team, so if you're in your last two years of school and think you could do some good on this site, please contact lifeinthesixth@live.co.uk and we'll get back to you with some questions.
If you've left school but want to share a school experience, then email it to the above address and if we like it, we'll post it on here.
