Journal created:
on 30 April 2004 (#3007895)
Updated:
on 21 September 2005
Name:
Children of the Chool
Membership:
Open
Posting Access:
All Members , Moderated
Think your Senior Chool adventures would be better than the last? Think again.
It’s 7:15am, a sunny morning where you could see your self running through fields of rosemary singing mountain songs with you unbelievably beautiful friends, when your parents aggressively wake you up. “Come on [insert name here]! Your running late!” They slam your bedroom door.
“Crap!” you think to yourself, “What day is it?” Monday. Isn’t that a school day? Oh no, my dear sweet friend – it’s much, much worse. It’s a Chool day. Disgruntled with the time that you have awoken (you spend the previous two days procrastinating on MSN and are dog tired) you look at your Diary. Crap again. You have a test. So, naturally, the subject/s of which you have your test for are blaring at you in their colour coded, computer printed, stuck on your diary and/or folder because you to lazy to re write your timetable which you are too stupid to decipher way, sitting snugging in their period one or two, day one week A or B timeslot. The day is off to great start.
After woofing down undoubtedly high carbohydrate breakfast, you run for your bus making it just in time, but not quick enough to allow you a seat. With you hair everywhere, teeth brushed to the point where you can just get away with it (a thirty second job) and a bus full of sniggering teenagers staring at you, their heads wobbling slightly to and through not only because of the course nature of the road but because they have obtained a seat and you haven’t (you thought they would have gotten over that by term three), you take out your study notes and/or unfinished homework. “Oh no!” comes a voice from behind. “I didn’t do that either!” says an astonishingly irritating classmate. “Can I copy your work so far?” And so away your study notes go as you allow others to ogle the irreverent, yet passing of as educational, goodness, knowing only too well that you may need their help one day and are not willing to risk it. It is their eyes passing over your notes and/or homework which allow them, and not you, to score 4 marks ahead of you, as you discover later in the week.
You arrive at school, study notes retrieved and running into the library in order to escape the horrors that shall be experienced in a mere forty five minutes. Two minutes later you are forced to leave due to one or more of the following:
a) The rest of your grade is in their, studying for the same test even thought they have probably been doing so since the assessment was announced.
b) A underage couple is making out on your desk, disallowing you to read the previous sentence you have added to your less than mediocre notes.
c) You are busting to visit a bathroom that has not yet been unlocked.
Defeated, you return to sit on the grass next to the table of which rightfully belongs to ‘your group’ but has been stolen by the same group of boys that think you and your best friend are lesbians. “OK” you think to yourself “one last shot”. You open your notes – “RYAN!” screams your friend . She attacks your jumper, embracing it whist still attach to you and asking it (or he) where it has been all your life. The boys on the table raise their eyebrows as the bell rings and you leave for homeroom.
Before you know it you are in the test. Crap yet again, as the bellbirds distract you form reclaiming any useful information. You resort to naming the crows raiding the yard. “There’s blacky, and bluely, and” – thoughts which enter your head as you bask in your own test induced insanity. “It’s all LJ’s fault!” –you cry, a little too loud for the test supervisors liking.
The bell rings - it’s over. You buy a packet of Oreos and look forward to classes which end up disappointing you anyway. You have a huge pile of work to do - not that you care. You’ll never be the best; you’ll never get that highest mark you so rightfully deserve. There is nothing left to do accept to experience another Chool day tomorrow. But not this time. You go home and kill yourself (but not before updating your LJ and checking your mail).
This community is for Chool members, past and present, to share their thoughts and collectively bask in the glory that is The Chool. Perhaps you belong to another Chool and would like to share your thoughts on what it’s like over there. You are indeed also welcome ^_^
It’s 7:15am, a sunny morning where you could see your self running through fields of rosemary singing mountain songs with you unbelievably beautiful friends, when your parents aggressively wake you up. “Come on [insert name here]! Your running late!” They slam your bedroom door.
“Crap!” you think to yourself, “What day is it?” Monday. Isn’t that a school day? Oh no, my dear sweet friend – it’s much, much worse. It’s a Chool day. Disgruntled with the time that you have awoken (you spend the previous two days procrastinating on MSN and are dog tired) you look at your Diary. Crap again. You have a test. So, naturally, the subject/s of which you have your test for are blaring at you in their colour coded, computer printed, stuck on your diary and/or folder because you to lazy to re write your timetable which you are too stupid to decipher way, sitting snugging in their period one or two, day one week A or B timeslot. The day is off to great start.
After woofing down undoubtedly high carbohydrate breakfast, you run for your bus making it just in time, but not quick enough to allow you a seat. With you hair everywhere, teeth brushed to the point where you can just get away with it (a thirty second job) and a bus full of sniggering teenagers staring at you, their heads wobbling slightly to and through not only because of the course nature of the road but because they have obtained a seat and you haven’t (you thought they would have gotten over that by term three), you take out your study notes and/or unfinished homework. “Oh no!” comes a voice from behind. “I didn’t do that either!” says an astonishingly irritating classmate. “Can I copy your work so far?” And so away your study notes go as you allow others to ogle the irreverent, yet passing of as educational, goodness, knowing only too well that you may need their help one day and are not willing to risk it. It is their eyes passing over your notes and/or homework which allow them, and not you, to score 4 marks ahead of you, as you discover later in the week.
You arrive at school, study notes retrieved and running into the library in order to escape the horrors that shall be experienced in a mere forty five minutes. Two minutes later you are forced to leave due to one or more of the following:
a) The rest of your grade is in their, studying for the same test even thought they have probably been doing so since the assessment was announced.
b) A underage couple is making out on your desk, disallowing you to read the previous sentence you have added to your less than mediocre notes.
c) You are busting to visit a bathroom that has not yet been unlocked.
Defeated, you return to sit on the grass next to the table of which rightfully belongs to ‘your group’ but has been stolen by the same group of boys that think you and your best friend are lesbians. “OK” you think to yourself “one last shot”. You open your notes – “RYAN!” screams your friend . She attacks your jumper, embracing it whist still attach to you and asking it (or he) where it has been all your life. The boys on the table raise their eyebrows as the bell rings and you leave for homeroom.
Before you know it you are in the test. Crap yet again, as the bellbirds distract you form reclaiming any useful information. You resort to naming the crows raiding the yard. “There’s blacky, and bluely, and” – thoughts which enter your head as you bask in your own test induced insanity. “It’s all LJ’s fault!” –you cry, a little too loud for the test supervisors liking.
The bell rings - it’s over. You buy a packet of Oreos and look forward to classes which end up disappointing you anyway. You have a huge pile of work to do - not that you care. You’ll never be the best; you’ll never get that highest mark you so rightfully deserve. There is nothing left to do accept to experience another Chool day tomorrow. But not this time. You go home and kill yourself (but not before updating your LJ and checking your mail).
This community is for Chool members, past and present, to share their thoughts and collectively bask in the glory that is The Chool. Perhaps you belong to another Chool and would like to share your thoughts on what it’s like over there. You are indeed also welcome ^_^
"the magic", antioch, ar, assignments, atticus, baby chools, bathroom pictures, bathrooms, bells, biology, blonde hatred, bubble tea, candles, chewing gum fines, communal gathering, corruption, cynical bitches, cynicism, daria, detention, drought, eating fish flakes, failing, far, feminism, fiji magic, french, general maths, gerberas, guitar, h.s.i.e, having text, inity, italian, jesus, kebab, kilts, krispy kreme, lab guy, lard, lard on a stick, liturgical dancing, liturgical goodness, lj moments, magic, mass, mewcorn, monkey magic, music, musicals, needles, oreos, palm trees, pigeons, pointless worksheets, potsie, preisty, procrastinating, rebecca, revolting showers, rnb, sailor moon, sar, sb's, schoolfriends.com, sewing for the economy, sloth and nerd, society and culture, stations of the cross, steak and bone, stories, stupid boys, sure…”steak”, textuality, the bosnian, the easter show, the library, the messiah, the ski, the smashing pumpkins, the world, theme songs, thinness, tonality, travelling overseas, unity, vapd, western sydney, westfields, wheelie bins
