Sunday, 30 November 2014

Praying for things to look a little brighter...

I wish I could say, 'I've finished school!' But alas, as yet I can't. Friday was the cut off date to get the last credits put through to NZQA, at about lunch time Friday I sent in my final report on 1080 for Chemistry, and then, I was done! Yay! Or maybe not. I went out to work around four and missed a call from my teacher saying that I urgently needed to add one last thing or something or other.
     Got home about 6, attempted to ring him but got afterhours, emailed and told him he'd have to ring me instead. He'd also emailed me earlier, so I edited what I needed to, then emailed it back through. Then never really heard back. So I was feeling almost certainly ill by this stage.

 Mum had spoken to him on the phone when I was working, and she is pretty sure he said he would send out the certificate for it, but he just wanted to be sure I knew what I was actually meaning and in my rush I must've missed it - easily done. So this was a little reassuring. Mum and Dad had planned we'd go out to watch the new Hunger Games movie and I missed his next email at 7:30. Pretty much just said I also made an error in my other assessment, and he'd call me Monday and talk about grade statuses and what not. Oh, how I wished he could've just said, "Look, I've given you a pass, not a high grade but just an A. So long as you can email through where you can see you've made a silly little error, so I can be sure you are capable..." Yeah, right.
     It wouldn't have been so much of a problem if I had've gotten it done earlier in the week. But I couldn't get a hold of my teacher, which pretty much left me high and dry for a couple days. I actually had to call another teacher in the South Island, who then called him. It's extremely frustrating and scary - my life next year basically sits in the balance, while I wait to hear of the verdict. It's not a happy time. Also doesn't help when so many people are "so excited" about me going to Palmy next year, and they can't stop talking about it. It's like, flippen heck, why do all these people have to know about everything?!
My last exam was done about a week and a half ago, and I haven't even done the usual things I do to treat myself at the end of exams. Usually I'd go and get my hair done for summer, or go and buy the new music I've been waiting for. Gosh, the new Taylor Swift and One Direction (please don't judge lol) CD's have been out for well over a month, not to mention the 5SOS music I've been eager to get too, and I haven't even thought of it til now. My Kobo is still sitting lifeless beside my bed, quite abandoned. What have I been doing this past week and a half? So much. Almost thirty hours of milkings in a week - double what I'd normally do -, plus the hours and hours of computer time, staring at the screen typing and researching. Only to be left where I am now, a bucket full of worry.

But I'm feeling pretty gutted for my friend who was turned down for a medical course she applied for. I know the sickening feeling seeing an email from a scholarship provider, and the heart dropping moment when the word "sorry" comes into play. But being turned down on such an awesome three year course must be devastating...But everything can only go up from here, right??

I've lost the two little chicks I dubbed Domino and Chekaz last week. They'd been getting quite mobile and every night they were out I'd spend ages trying to catch them and lift them up the ramp into the chook house - it's about a metre off the ground. But this one night I went with Mum to go pick dad up from a job, I admit I just chucked food at them and the pigs and left to go, not thinking too much of it. The next morning I went out to there house...and it was so quiet. Usually the little things are tweeting their lungs out, but, nothing. I searched high and low, the three mothers/babysitters were more interested in food. I listened intently for little tweets, trying to find their way home again. Absolutely nothing was disturbed either, no feathers. The others weren't stressed. So all we can think is that the nasty ginger tom cat that's been hanging around decided he was hungry, and jumped the 1.8m fence to get them or a stoat was passing through. I'm thinking the latter, stoats are evil twisted things. So it's quite sad, they were nearly a month old too...

We had the Gumboot Ball last night, it wasn't absolutely awesome, but it was OK. It's not a ball - per se, just a bit of a party in a restaurant/pub/bar thing with a live band. About thirty people came, almost all wearing gumboots and dancing was classified as standing amongst a group of people just moving around with the music. It was nice to try and forget about a few things for a night, and I did my usual 'be polite and talk' when one of the guys my age came to talk to me. And when he suggested I join in with the dancing, I did my typical, oh I will on the next song. Which provided the brilliant escape route I like to make, and I didn't have to speak to him again for the rest of the night, a good choice really as later on he seemed quite drunk. My escape plan didn't last long though, as one of the girls made me join in.
     It was fun, but some songs just aren't the best, you know? It's a little awkward when you don't know the song!
     We left just after midnight and someone suggested to go to mcdonalds. Ok, but at least it'll be quiet. But nope, somebody else suggested to move on to another bar - hmm. So I used my ID for the first time to get into this place with the rest of them, but I wasn't very happy about being there. Especially as it was packed, like literally, there was no room for personal space - something I often need in high amounts. Thankfully after five minutes we left again for home, but not before a guard tapped me on the back and asked if I had been ID checked at the door. Gee, even being dressed up, I still look too young. Just as well though, I'm not intending on going back to a place like that again.
     But at least now I know what sort of Young Farmer things I want to be involved in, paintball, yes. Partying. NO.

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