The Provincial Exam Cup

Who cares about soccer when you can read the latest update on Student vs. Summer Heat!? :)

So. Brief recap:

Math: Heat victorious
Biology: Student victorious

The next exams were: French and Physics on the same day, and History right after.

I didn't really study reasonably for any of these exams, mainly because I kind of knew I stank at the language of love and the language of hairy-backed physicists (Thank God). No excuses for not studying enough for History, but hey! you aren't here to hear about that.

French came first, in the cafeteria. Unfortunately, I was so nervous when I was writing my essay that I shook the white-out bottle while the cap was unscrewed and ended up splattering it all over my exam and the lunch table. In a frantic attempt to remove the white-out, I smeared it around, only resulting in nearly eliminating the printed title of the page at the top. (I ended up writing "(Sorry, white-out accident!)" near the splotch after I tried to salvage it with my pen. Then a disgruntled teacher came up to me and started loudly trying to wipe the table clean with draft paper. Another teacher came to see if it was dried. They made it look like I threw up all over the table or something in front of every other student. AWFUL.

Physics went off without a hitch, if "without a hitch" could be denoted as "not being aware to the fact that I was allowed to bring a graphing calculator and being the only student sitting the exam with only a scientific which happened to be low on batteries". But I managed. No comment.

History was fine. I only GOT A NOSEBLEED DURING IT, obviously caused by the stupid heat.

So final score?

June heat: Math, French, History
Me: Biology, Physics

Oh well. I'm done. I COULDN'T CARE LESS!!!





Actually, I could, because I lied and I'm super nervous. PLEASE LET ME NOT HAVE FAILED THE IMPORTANT ONES!

It's the heat, I swear.

So June. Hot, sweaty, examination June. We meet again. I must say, you've gotten stronger as the years pass and I find my own devices against you weakening.

Last Friday my math provincial was held. Worth 40% of the final mark that would either guarantee or smash my hopes of entrance into university, this was something I could not afford to screw up. So I crammed.

And crammed. Until 3 in the morning.

And I walked out of the exam the next day...eh, relatively happy. I thought I had won this round. But no. You and your sweltering sinful ways found a new sneaky, low way to stab me in my sweating back as I walked home, unaware of your schemes.

I studied the rest of the weekend for my biology examination. Last night, I studied until 3:45 AM, and tossed and turned until freaking birds started chirping outside my window at 4:30. Nevertheless, I trudged to school the next day, only to receive some bad news from a classmate. Apparently, at the end of the math provincial, I had left my multiple choice bubble sheet in the wrong booklet, and if it were not for the efforts of the kind albeit now angry teachers that flipped through 300+ examinations to look for it, I would have lost a large portion of my test and failed.

Angrily, writing tools in hand, I sat down and sulked until the start of the examination. (Actually, right before the exam commenced I was talking to a friend happily, but let's pretend for this entry's sake that I was mad.) And then...I saw it. Or rather, did not see it.

MY ERASER WAS MISSING.

With 67 multiple choice questions to fill in, I knew you were laughing your stupid 38 degrees celcius ass off. I couldn't afford to lose, as this was another examination that I wanted- no, needed, to use. So with the help of my trusty pencil eraser, which had been used previously in class until it was merely a sad little stub, I painstakingly reviewed and erased (and left little dirty streaks on the sheet) my way through the exam, all the while being encircled by teachers (like sharks around a diver, or vultures around a panicking student - oh wait, that is what they are) whom, no doubt, must have been wondering why I was scouring the floor with my eyes constantly during the whole examination.

Well. I MADE IT through, and I put my multiple choice sheet in the right place this time. You lose this round.

You have 3 more chances, so do your best, June. Do your best.






Actually, I was just kidding. Leave me the hell alone!

Exposé ( Not Really) #1: Cleaning Out Your Closet

Let me be honest with you. I haven't done spring cleaning in a while. In fact, I think I may only recall one particular time that I ever did something vaguely similar to spring cleaning, and that was when I spent my spring break manually downsizing the cherry tree in my backyard with a handsaw in some sort of spontaneous George Washington-inspired burst of idiocy. Not really the traditional type of cleaning, but oh well.

So what saves me from the pathetic death of the cliché pile of junk falling on top of me whenever I open a closet in my house? I'll tell you what. It's the superhuman power of overcoming the miser in all of us that only comes with many hours of inner fighting. I come to my conclusion: Spring cleaning? Don't waste your break! Summer cleaning is the way to go.

Why summer? Aren't we all busy in some way? Well. Let me explain with a simple flowchart. (If you're pretty much unoccupied during the summer months, move on.)

The flowchart pretty much has you cornered. Besides, you're going to have to do it sooner or later. Do you really want to have to deal with the consequences? Choose from the following:

1) You're going to feel disgusted with yourself about the squalor that you're wallowing in, or
2) You're going to feel compelled to clean because your house is starting to smell funky, or
3) Your date is going to visit your swingin' pad and never give you that call back.

I've found that boredom is just one of the side effects that many suffer from as the hot, lazy summer days drag on. Why not better your living space as well as finally get rid of that stinkin' pile of underwear on your bedroom floor?

Besides, you cannot fathom how much crap you have lying around that could not possibly be more at home than in a garbage can- but I'm not a heartless monster either. Every year I ache inside when I begin my painful filter of what to keep and what to toss out, but who am I kidding? My house is for living in, not for storing useless stuff in. With the many hours that summer will inevitably provide you, you too can find it within yourself to let go of this tattered sweater or that old computer keyboard (The one you spilt Dr. Pepper all over). Because - let's face it!- when the hell are you ever going to use those things again anyway?

Of course, you can always hold a garage sale instead of just donating or throwing the items away. However, you should be prepared for a few things, among which include possibly being a victim of a robbery, being stared at mercilessly by passerby and sobbing uncontrollably at your miniscule earnings after the countless hours of sweat, blood and heaving heavy things around that were put in. But hey! - look on the bright side. You can probably still buy a Slurpee with the money.

Whatever you decide to do with your dust-gathering junk, you'll have a clean house and nothing's better than that. (Actually, a lot of things are better, but for the purpose of this exposé let's just go with what I said earlier.) So remember these words when you're re-enacting the life of a unkempt compost mound on your hot sofa in front of the idiot box one day: Clean up.

So what the hell?

Graduating.

That means freedom, but also responsibility. So go drink your faces off, guys, but when you get into that car accident you'd better foot your own goddamn insurance bill. Don't you dare look at your parents and pull that puppy face. It might have worked when you were like, 2. Not going to work now.

So here's to us, grads 06. ;) With great power graduation comes great responsibility weird feelings. Let your inner nagging mother shine out.