Being a year 11.

Its been a long time since I've written, and this will be very school orientated. Being a schoolgirl and all.

People often say that these are the best years of our lives, and while I would not leap to agreement, I can see how with hindsight that they would say this.

This will be last year of compulsory education, and I can honestly say that I can't wait for it to finish. Putting it all into perspective, all my life so far has been pretty much learning and working and building up to this year, and I want to get good results which I will work hard for, and then relax in a way I have never been able to. (Obviously I could when I was a baby or a toddler, but I didn't appreciate nor understand much then.)

As for enjoying school, I think I do. There are pile loads of homework and controlled assessment, and by Friday I do feel absolutely drained, but there is also a sense of contentment after completing a piece of homework or getting a good mark in controlled assessments that can't be achieved in any other way.

There are many things I feel are useless and necessary, and is quite bluntly, a waste of my time. As I am being positive today (after a good night's sleep), I will allow myself a little rant at Welsh again.

It is a dying language, and like all things, humankind, living beings, technology and geography all evolve. If nothing did, and nothing died and nothing new could ever be born or created, there would be no progress. There is a reason that Welsh is a dying language, and we should let it die. (Gosh, I sound mean.) But there is a minute amount of people left that speak the language, and why should we be forced to learn meaningless phrases and sentences in order to 'salvage' the language from the inevitable end, when we should be embracing the way the world is growing, and learn languages such as French, or Mandarin? 

I appreciate Business studies, and in fact I have learnt some basics I had not known, however I do fear our teacher is not the best teacher. Neither is our art teacher. But that's ok, they aren't important subject to me personally. I might have chosen music, if I went back to choose them again, but they are both equally bad in terms of teaching. I really do enjoy music though, but I guess music grades are plenty good enough to put on personal statements etc. Besides, I won't be going into Art, nor music.

Speaking of music...... I was on youtube last night, and my new obsession is 'ThePianoGuys'...... their version of Coldplay's Paradise in Swahili - 'Peponi' is absolutely beautiful and warming.

Peponi by the PianoGuys...

Back to my subjects...

History is awfully difficult, there is so much writing, and types of analysations, and learning about history I should know and care about, but don't really. But I don't regret taking it, I'm doing better than I expected I would. I was very tired preparing my essay on Jack the Ripper. One of my sentences was 'We will never know why Jack the Ripper murdered these prostitutes in such a brutal manner.' However, due to the lack of energy running through my system, I wrote:
We will never know why Jack the Ripper married these prostitutes in such a brutal manner.

French is good. It's very logical. It makes sense. I would have a slight advantage were I to go to France on holiday. Well, if I were to write everything I wanted to say on a slit of paper, then hand it to a French person, and hope they would write a simple reply back on the paper, then I would have an advantage.

We've been studying Of Mice and Men, and Heroes in English, and I genuinely cannot be more convinced that we read waaaaaaaaaay to much into every single word. How can the simple colour co-ordination of a single room in a single house represent the mood of every single person in that room.
For example, my room is beautiful light pea-green colour. However does this not mean the greenness reflect the tranquil heart I have, nor the calm mindset which the green portrays. I like the colour green. Ok?

The maths lesson consists of me sitting doing my own work. This is because I've completed my GCSE in maths. I'm now currently at the awkward stage where I'm not quite ready to take my A level maths, but not quite sure whether an extra qualification is worth it.

And I do like Science.
Hey, I captained the Chem team to a victory in the South Wales Chemical Olympiad. And I had to with-strain my silly smile, and try not to act too happy. I've called the emotion 'geeky contentment'.  

I feel like I should put a conclusion. This is what essay writing has done to me. In history, I spend too many minutes repeating all the points I have made in slightly different constructed sentences, to remind the readers (teacher/moderators) everything I just spent hours writing about. Aren't I being nice to them? They should just read through it again, but I'm nice.

I'm tired. I'm pretty sure I could write more about extra-curricular. Or maybe a conclusion to a passage never written.

Lots of things. Busy. Tired. Annoying teachers sometimes. Good teachers sometimes. Mostly annoying. Singing when I can't sing. Playing carols on flute which makes me so frustrated I want to punch a broccoli. Debating whether to do debating. Listening to storytellers instead of telling stories. Playing the xylophone, sounding impressive to the trees who listen, then failing and stumbling when the humans listen.

Oh, I went to London with the Gifted and Talented group in school... It was amazing. Will tell. Meanwhile: this is a snippet in photos.

Concluded.