On tests, studying, and last-ditch efforts

Why, there's a course in two cue cards.

I don't cut class and I do most assignments.

Essentially, this results in my catching up with my favourite TV series or reading a never-ending chain of novels during exam week. Unfortunately, these tend to be solitary activities, due to everyone else being holed up with an apocalypse-size stash of pretzels and chocolate. (I'm not even going to concern myself with the bellyache that amount of pure salt/sugar might induce.) Honestly, exam week tends to be the most carefree time of the year--few social commitments, minimal school time, and no ridiculous holiday hours at work.

Why cramming is a last-ditch effort

Twenty hours is a lot of time to prepare for a 3-hour test. There is no use in losing sleep or sacrificing real food. A trip to the grocery store should take you 30 minutes, max. You should only be cramming if you feel it necessary to reteach yourself the course from scratch. Seriously, this sort of intensive studying is cruel and unusual punishment, not to mention unnecessary.

Don't stare at your notes

Use keywords: not glossary-style definitions, just focus words which lead to greater ideas and smaller details. Think of each as a door, or as a can of condensed milk. Stack them neatly. If you're an auditory learner, record yourself saying those words in a foreign accent. If you're visual, rewrite the words and notice patterns. Kinesthetic? Prescribe actions to the words. Keep your mental work area spotless, and open those doors/cans when they are called upon.

It works, because we like to make connections. Shakespeare leads to Romeo and Juliet leads to tragedy leads to Tragedy of the Commons leads to Wikipedia leads to bibliography formatting leads to selective media leads to hegemony leads to propaganda leads to Richard Wagner leads to onion rings. Believe me, it's all there, in that East-Australian-Current-stream-of-consciousness. Just pull from the pool.

Don't underestimate yourself

You know the material. Sure, you probably haven't cracked it open in weeks, but you haven't forgotten everything. It'll come back. Don't skip other classes, just review in those classes. Review in your head. Bring reference notes, if you must. It's a challenge: do you know your shit without your notes open in front of you? Plus, you won't miss anything important in those other classes. Also, make use of unfinished homework. You might as well see if you can answer them. If not... well, now you know what to touch up on.

Take a break

I wouldn't suggest taking any more than a memo with several keywords on it to the testing room, if anything. The earlier you do the work, the less time you'll have to invest. It might take an hour to condense a course, but a few 10-minute review sessions beats hours of reading indecipherable scrawl powered only by caffeine. Watch a movie the night before or go for a run. What have I done so far? Spring cleaning, three episodes of Pretty Little Liars, two novels, new playlists, my Trinity college application, and a few too many CollegeHumour videos. It's really not that big a deal.

Hostage negotiation: teachers' union ups the ante

Conveniently enough for me, a week after the completion of my third NaNoWriMo challenge, and the day after I decide to reboot this log, I am presented with a most unavoidable topic. Unfortunately, it is far from "fresh"--actually, it's spoiled and repugnant, but someone has to pick it up and hold it at arms' length before tossing it another 30 feet away to be reassessed at a later time.

Earlier today, it was announced (with a glaring typo, Globe and Mail) that "Ontario’s high-school teachers are stepping up their job action, signalling that they won’t participate in sports clubs or extra-curricular activities". For those active in the student body, this was the decision they had dreaded. This was the decision that everyone had planned for, that no one had really expected.

Whatever happened to the no-touch policy?

I'll admit to using school authority to my own advantage in the past, but lately, I feel as though we students are being used as a leverage object. I protest to being simplified and typecast, not used. I can deal with being used, but I cannot deal with being expected to submit to an dissolution of the primary methods which allow teenagers to avoid being typecast.

Certainly I'm not the lone student who invests an equal amount, if not, more effort in extra curricular activities than class. (Equally so, it could be argued that I don't invest enough time in class.) Most students would side with the union in a heartbeat, due to the common dislike for our infamous ex-premier, but for now, I will refrain from vilifying either party.

Shamefully, the immature child in me who lacks understanding of this issue at large is subduing her giggles. I can't help but think of this as the perfect case study of a workers' rights battle for Gr. 12 Canadian Law classes, as if it weren't real, and as if it weren't happening right now. I'm still viewing it from an outside perspective, thinking, "those poor kids". Putting myself back in my own shoes, students must think this is an abomination.

Whether sports teams and clubs were withdrawn at the start of the school year or not, it just "isn't fair". If they were withdrawn in September, job or college applicants have minimal merits under recent school involvement. If they were not withdrawn in September, students have lost three full months of invested time, effort, and planning. Athletes may have a substantially more difficult time impressing scouts or qualifying for scholarships, and music students in the Greater Toronto Area have already had their regional Musicfest competition cancelled.

But the union knows this action is at a risk. We're the sort of hostage with the short little knives, stowed away in our pockets next to the weed and attitude they failed to confiscate in our first eight years of school. If they are not already, teachers could very well find themselves taking the heat from both sides: the students and the politicians.

Space chair (BEFORE AND AFTER)

Summer's not over... yet

2:12 That unmistakable dialtone ups the ante on Mathieu Santos's solo-single, "I Can Hear The Trains Coming". Clever thing he is.

I’m a believer
I took a weight off his hands
It stood in reason
That it’s all starting again
I wasn't listening
Well, did you hear what he said?
I thought it was something
But you know I can't afford to be wrong
And I can’t stand up

In this whole "first week of school" fiasco, I've casually fallen out of sync with the indie-stry. I can hardly believe how easy it is. Having gotten a taste of life in the workforce, I cannot wait to be unrestricted by the constant, repetitive, tired school cycle that the lives of youth ages 6-17 are based upon.

Due to the concept of return, the likes of Depeche Mode, Fiona Apple, New Order and Nine Inch Nails have become prominent in my heavy rotation list. While (playing, writing, finding, and writing about) music has not been entirely abolished from my escapist mind, a couple other art forms have been insistent occupants.

• I visited this house yesterday,
• browsed some grunge-spiration,
• did some CD shopping, and
• found an incredibly cute Thanksgiving recipe that'll I may or may not attempt in a couple weeks.

Don't go reading that list in disbelief. I did some schoolwork, too- cutting out magazine letters for long past-due title pages? Fairly time-consuming work, and the Princess Margaret house had to do with an Interior Design assignment.

Come to think of it, the grunge-spiration was the only thing (besides watching a couple episodes of Pretty Little Liars- check out this article on CollegeFashion) that I did without incentive. The trip to HMV? Gift shopping. The smashing pumpkin bites? School band snack. My head is so in the game.

The missing fourth class is Math. I don't suppose anyone has any spare algebra magazines for me to butcher?

Amy Kuney releases "Gasoline" video

The first music video from beloved Tulsa, Oklahoma's gal, Amy Kuney, recorded in support of the mess BP made early last year in the Gulf of Mexico. The Deepwater Horizon spill is currently generating funds for early restoration projects, in case you environmentalists have been distracted by Japan's recent nuclear crisis.

It's been a long week, after returning to the suburbs Monday evening. Folk-sextet Cherryholmes were fantastic in Chicago, but it was Zola Jesus who rocked the trip. At the moment, I'm mourning a dear family member (and a 1994 beige Honda Accord, my only possession of equal age). Funnily enough, my online non-science science course for next year has been cancelled, allowing me to eliminate the entire subject area from my schedule future.

Update on SGD

Tulsa-project no. 2 to report is Stars Go Dim's upcoming sophomore disc, titled Between Here and Now. If you think I've been promoting an abnormal amount of these guys, I'll like to have you know that it's paid off. Compared to the original 200 fans they'd amounted at their conception over three years ago, their Facebook numbers have now surpassed 30,000. I feel like a certain pride's gone missing... oh yeah, they want you on their next album cover.

Whipping paint and guitars, not hair

The work in progress.

It's been a dull two days, watching my gorgeous Lunar Eclipse (Behr) get overtaken by some unoriginal Tulle White (CIL). I asked Daddy while he was painting: "Do you like this colour?"

His reply: "It's boring." You got that right.

Semester two commences tomorrow, during which I shall try to switch out of that godforsaken Accounting class. Turns out, I could actually take a spare this year due to my extracurricular credits. Current schedule: Musical Theatre, English, normal lunch (I'm undecided whether this is a benefit or con), History.

Exams will be a total wreck, but it'll be more enjoyable than first semester. On this note, I'll leave you with this insane video of guitarist Andy James recording a guest solo for UK band, Anterior. Their second release (to follow up 2007's brilliance in This Age of Silence) is expected to drop this year.


I know I'm excited. (Anterior on Metal Blade)

This is what happened on Tuesday

Yesterday was registration, so being the crazy (not yet) lady that I am, I biked.

Apparently there was a little miscommunication between me and my parents, because when my body finally decided to wake up, it was 8:30am. After hopping in and out of the shower and grabbing breakfast, I enter the garage to find my bike behind our van. Thanks for uncharacteristically driving the sedan and not thinking to move my bike for me, Daddy. I end up doing some vertical flip with my bike to avoid scratching the car and was down the street, sans cell phone or watch. The most relaxed stretch of the trip. Total elapsed time: 1h 30m.

By the time I got to school (what's that?), there was a line a good ways down the hall. I couldn't expect much of that; I mean, it was maybe 70 students long. Unfortunately, I underestimated- which by my estimations then was completely impossible- I ended up waiting a two frustrating hours (who needs school, anyways?) before actually going through the registration process. Total elapsed time: 3h 30min.

I'd told Mommy that I'd drop by Oakville Place afterward and figured that if I'd already biked over an hour to get where I was, I might as well spend some time out in East Oakville anyway. The hike over the QE was horrendous in the noontime sun. I hadn't been to that mall for a while, and when I got there, I knew why. I think I spent a good hour or two trying to find something I really liked, then giving up cause I'm cheap and don't like my "graphic tees" saying "AERO" on them- I mean, really, those are branded tees, not graphic tees. Total elapsed time: 2h.

Why are there never clocks in the mall?

Completely lost and disappointed, I decided to do what I do best: explore. Unwilling to pedal back to the sunburned street, I took a road into a residential area in the general direction of home. I hate when roads and sidewalks end without warning. At least I found a nice little foot path under the highway. A 10 minute stroll next to a silent construction site and a lot of "FLASH YOUR TITTIES" graffiti, I found myself next to a cemetery and roaring traffic. Total elapsed time: 30min.

I still hadn't had lunch yet; my Timmies' muffin from Oakville Place left untouched, save for a bite. It was kinda, sorta squished, and I found a bench on Kerr Street to refuel. (I've been told that Kerr Street is Oakville's "ghetto", but I think the town could do better.) I obeyed the "no skateboarding/rollerblading/bicycling" signs- unlike in the morning- and walked my bike down a couple of blocks; I hadn't actually been in the area before. Total elapsed time: 1h.

The time was off my mind until I got to the library. To my alarm, it was 5PM. Shit, Mommy's probably calling everyone I know. I did get myself some reading- albeit in the form of girly/fantasy novels, and "Alexander". Yippee; Colin Farrell, Angelina Jolie, and Jared Leto. Total elapsed time: 30min.

(from left to right: Jared Leto, Val Kilmer, Angelina Jolie, Oliver Stone, Rosario Dawson, Colin Farrell)

With a couple pounds of material in my bag (which was a drawstring Adidas number), I couldn't quite sit on my bike without the bottom of the bag skimming the tire. Resisting the bite of the string wearing into my shoulders, I stood the rest of the way home. My parents: "You could've called! I called the only number I could find. And how'd you ride your bike? There's no air in the tires!" I realized there wasn't enough air about 15 minutes after departure, but didn't want to turn back. Secondly, that number? A classmate whom I'd done a project with but barely knew. His mom then called a bunch of other people, asking if they'd seen me at school. Total elapsed time: 30min.

As for my first semester schedule, I have: a spare period; Math; Science; Fashion; Civics and Careers; but no lunch.

That evening, I read an entire novel, put Hollerado's Record in a Bag on continuous repeat, and ate a quarter of a watermelon. Apart from the sore butt, inability to contact anyone, and the torture marks inflicted upon me by my bag, it was a pretty good day. In a town where nothing happens, you gotta make your own events.

Mommy told me I was never biking that far again.