Friday, November 6, 2009
Today is, or now was, the last day of school. Remembered that when we were all in year 1, shifting uncomfortably in our seats, wondering whether we would fit in into the environment or if the environment would fit us. I, personally, sat next to Regina, the failure of all failures. Ever since, I’ve grown to love miss tang. Our first few lessons were spent counting the number of "dokays" and "Okays" and "wells" in miss tang's sentences. Rather boring, but it gave us a mission.
A mission, and our first, in secondary school. (As recommended, or may i say, introduced to us by our school seniors)
The recess comes and we discuss the numbers we counted. Murmurs of "467" or "NO, it was 305" kept going round. Soon, lessons took a turn for the interesting and wonderful things. Which of course, we thought dull and mundane.
The next few recesses were spent talking about how volcanoes could change our lives.
Other than that, we had Mrs. Kang.
Yes, the Mrs Kang who retired today. The Mrs Kang who taught us "why study history". The Mrs Kang who took joy in torturing us to copy PowerPoint slides. The Mrs Kang who had students gleefully copying down notes in their fresh, new books. the Mrs Kang who told us about our idol, Mr Zhou.
Mr Han (easily) became our favourite teacher. From "stealing peeks" at his [IC], i mean computer, to listening to his stupid stories and updating ourselves on his new wallpaper or dhs mail display messages. we would spend days and days predicting his shirt colour which seemed to be either pink, purple, blue, dark blue, brown and black. He recently has added white to his collection.
So as first years, we were finally allowed to bend the earth-shattering, world-breaking and of course, our-primary-school-teacher-says rule: DO NOT PLAY WITH FIRE. I’m sure many of us took joy in clicking the lighters and lighting up the BBs even if the gas wasn't on. Because it could be said as our second mission in life.
Then we had Miss Chua who taught us animal farm and the freezing days in the lecture theatre listening and copying notes. Miss Chua who gave us the clips with the stickers. Which I unfortunately lost.
We had Chinese too. The subject I resolved myself to study and get good grades. Until LLS came and changed the motivation in my life. Just joking. So Chinese was really, really boring and times were spent drawing and writing furiously in our textbooks or muttering rubbish about lessons. Or even doing Math workbooks.
Speaking of math, Mrs Tay, or better known as Miss Teng at that time taught us math. The blue books were extremely special because it had the chapters written on the cover. And we weren’t going to READ it, we were going to WRITE on it. was close to typing destroy. First pages were filled with neat handwriting in standard ink colours. If it was messy, tons of correction tape would go over the ink and be re-written and re-written again. Looking at my orange book now, I feel I have interacted more with colours and become more creative.
I disliked 1D back then. Everyone huddled in their own groups with 2-3 people and copying Math answers. People mugging or reading a book in some corner. People listening to music on their phones or iPods. People, who like me, were stuck in a room apparently called 1D with so many unfamiliar faces.
So weeks came and after weeks are months. I trust you all know. We changed seating partners, had more squabbles, kicked the chair of the unfortunate soul sitting in front of you. Impatiently clicking or tapping your pen on the table waiting for them to pass the papers. Peeking over at your friend’s paper when stuck at a problem. Or just simply engaging in an uninteresting conversation with your seating partner. Trying casually to say, “Hi, what school were you from”. Before stupidly forgetting and asking it the next day. I have made progress from asking the same question thrice a day and have currently limited myself to asking only once a day.
By level camp, everyone had their own circle of friends and in that circle was another circle. See how we’ve been going around in circles? Level camp gave us more to talk about. Seeing more of people’s character, thinking, being forced into some fusion night. Cheering even when the bus stopped. 1D.
By the next year, we were transferred to another strange place called 2D which apparently was on the FIFTH storey. First few days, again, was spent complaining about the new rubbish school rule that the lifts were meant for teachers only. Utterly rubbish. I still stand by my view.
Then we had new teachers like Miss Chan who furiously tries to go through TKAM and MOV, making use of every bit of time, entering the class with “This year’s going to be a hectic year so we better hurry!”, facing her ignorant little students who roll their eyes when she gives a flustered look, appointing a (LOUSY!) rep and receiving laughter if she does something wrong. Then we started to pay attention to her lessons and enjoyed debate and “engaging” lessons. Mid-term. Burried in 2 books which determine our future. Burried in books which we never thought we would read 5 times. Burried in books we hated and couldn’t wait to burn up or tear when EOYs are done.
Miss Ho who would get interrupted by Mrs Kang. Miss Ho who taught us political cartoons. Miss Ho who is a friend of Shuling.
ACC was a waste of my time. Personally I hated lixin loads and she was the tagboard hit in the class blog. First test, 10/30. Even with words from people saying “ACC doesn’t matter. It’s not counted”, I didn’t feel very encouraged. My first test with a HIGH score. I meant HIGH D. YEA, D for Daria. Subjected to stupid lessons and taking joy in losing my book, talking to people during her lessons and attending tea lessons in some BSP room. Watching Zishan stupidly pour the water from the cup onto the cloth, drawing on my paper, listening to the fighting going on behind me, eating harribo which is currently banned. And having a test. I decided, on the day before my second exam that I would browse through because I wanted at least a B. Awesome. I feel extremely happy I got 6th in class. Never thought that would happen, but I can get lucky once in a while, yes? But if you want the figurine PLEASE come ask me. I’ll pass it to you ASAP. I can never appreciate such things.
And then EOYs came. Viwawa sessions were stopped, but people logged on once in a while to facebook and feeding the stupid characters in RC.
So let’s try turning rubbish into words.
It doesn’t matter if you fail, for the most important thing is you have tried.
To
It doesn’t matter if we part, for the most important thing is our memories.
Still sound rubbish-y?
Yea, I think so too.
So, we’ll do it the way we would have said it if we were in year 1.
“Going now? Okay, see you next year.”
<3
x7:44 PM.
>Friday, November 6, 2009
Today is, or now was, the last day of school. Remembered that when we were all in year 1, shifting uncomfortably in our seats, wondering whether we would fit in into the environment or if the environment would fit us. I, personally, sat next to Regina, the failure of all failures. Ever since, I’ve grown to love miss tang. Our first few lessons were spent counting the number of "dokays" and "Okays" and "wells" in miss tang's sentences. Rather boring, but it gave us a mission.
A mission, and our first, in secondary school. (As recommended, or may i say, introduced to us by our school seniors)
The recess comes and we discuss the numbers we counted. Murmurs of "467" or "NO, it was 305" kept going round. Soon, lessons took a turn for the interesting and wonderful things. Which of course, we thought dull and mundane.
The next few recesses were spent talking about how volcanoes could change our lives.
Other than that, we had Mrs. Kang.
Yes, the Mrs Kang who retired today. The Mrs Kang who taught us "why study history". The Mrs Kang who took joy in torturing us to copy PowerPoint slides. The Mrs Kang who had students gleefully copying down notes in their fresh, new books. the Mrs Kang who told us about our idol, Mr Zhou.
Mr Han (easily) became our favourite teacher. From "stealing peeks" at his [IC], i mean computer, to listening to his stupid stories and updating ourselves on his new wallpaper or dhs mail display messages. we would spend days and days predicting his shirt colour which seemed to be either pink, purple, blue, dark blue, brown and black. He recently has added white to his collection.
So as first years, we were finally allowed to bend the earth-shattering, world-breaking and of course, our-primary-school-teacher-says rule: DO NOT PLAY WITH FIRE. I’m sure many of us took joy in clicking the lighters and lighting up the BBs even if the gas wasn't on. Because it could be said as our second mission in life.
Then we had Miss Chua who taught us animal farm and the freezing days in the lecture theatre listening and copying notes. Miss Chua who gave us the clips with the stickers. Which I unfortunately lost.
We had Chinese too. The subject I resolved myself to study and get good grades. Until LLS came and changed the motivation in my life. Just joking. So Chinese was really, really boring and times were spent drawing and writing furiously in our textbooks or muttering rubbish about lessons. Or even doing Math workbooks.
Speaking of math, Mrs Tay, or better known as Miss Teng at that time taught us math. The blue books were extremely special because it had the chapters written on the cover. And we weren’t going to READ it, we were going to WRITE on it. was close to typing destroy. First pages were filled with neat handwriting in standard ink colours. If it was messy, tons of correction tape would go over the ink and be re-written and re-written again. Looking at my orange book now, I feel I have interacted more with colours and become more creative.
I disliked 1D back then. Everyone huddled in their own groups with 2-3 people and copying Math answers. People mugging or reading a book in some corner. People listening to music on their phones or iPods. People, who like me, were stuck in a room apparently called 1D with so many unfamiliar faces.
So weeks came and after weeks are months. I trust you all know. We changed seating partners, had more squabbles, kicked the chair of the unfortunate soul sitting in front of you. Impatiently clicking or tapping your pen on the table waiting for them to pass the papers. Peeking over at your friend’s paper when stuck at a problem. Or just simply engaging in an uninteresting conversation with your seating partner. Trying casually to say, “Hi, what school were you from”. Before stupidly forgetting and asking it the next day. I have made progress from asking the same question thrice a day and have currently limited myself to asking only once a day.
By level camp, everyone had their own circle of friends and in that circle was another circle. See how we’ve been going around in circles? Level camp gave us more to talk about. Seeing more of people’s character, thinking, being forced into some fusion night. Cheering even when the bus stopped. 1D.
By the next year, we were transferred to another strange place called 2D which apparently was on the FIFTH storey. First few days, again, was spent complaining about the new rubbish school rule that the lifts were meant for teachers only. Utterly rubbish. I still stand by my view.
Then we had new teachers like Miss Chan who furiously tries to go through TKAM and MOV, making use of every bit of time, entering the class with “This year’s going to be a hectic year so we better hurry!”, facing her ignorant little students who roll their eyes when she gives a flustered look, appointing a (LOUSY!) rep and receiving laughter if she does something wrong. Then we started to pay attention to her lessons and enjoyed debate and “engaging” lessons. Mid-term. Burried in 2 books which determine our future. Burried in books which we never thought we would read 5 times. Burried in books we hated and couldn’t wait to burn up or tear when EOYs are done.
Miss Ho who would get interrupted by Mrs Kang. Miss Ho who taught us political cartoons. Miss Ho who is a friend of Shuling.
ACC was a waste of my time. Personally I hated lixin loads and she was the tagboard hit in the class blog. First test, 10/30. Even with words from people saying “ACC doesn’t matter. It’s not counted”, I didn’t feel very encouraged. My first test with a HIGH score. I meant HIGH D. YEA, D for Daria. Subjected to stupid lessons and taking joy in losing my book, talking to people during her lessons and attending tea lessons in some BSP room. Watching Zishan stupidly pour the water from the cup onto the cloth, drawing on my paper, listening to the fighting going on behind me, eating harribo which is currently banned. And having a test. I decided, on the day before my second exam that I would browse through because I wanted at least a B. Awesome. I feel extremely happy I got 6th in class. Never thought that would happen, but I can get lucky once in a while, yes? But if you want the figurine PLEASE come ask me. I’ll pass it to you ASAP. I can never appreciate such things.
And then EOYs came. Viwawa sessions were stopped, but people logged on once in a while to facebook and feeding the stupid characters in RC.
So let’s try turning rubbish into words.
It doesn’t matter if you fail, for the most important thing is you have tried.
To
It doesn’t matter if we part, for the most important thing is our memories.
Still sound rubbish-y?
Yea, I think so too.
So, we’ll do it the way we would have said it if we were in year 1.
“Going now? Okay, see you next year.”
<3
//7:44 PM
