There is nothing better than being exactly on the word count...

Okay, so maybe I suck at this blog thing.

- Oh, I'm sorry?! Have you done year twelve before? (pauses) That's what I thought. It's not exactly a hobby people develop.

However! I don't give a toss. Well, maybe I do. Maybe the fact that I have no time to spare actually freaking sucks.

Maybe you wish you hadn't clicked on this page in the first place. I've done that before. Start reading, get bored, click that red button in the corner... Don't feel bad if you do. No shame.

Wow, get a load of this self promotion.

***

If you're a student, hopefully you can relate to my awesomely, gloriously thrilled mood: ***I just got my English essay down to 1000 words*** Delivering the feels right there. No kidding. There I was, scrolling through and looking for things to delete completely... and a little 1000 pops up at the bottom of my page. 'Word Count: 1000' has never looked so damn fine. DAY-UM.

Actually, I tell a lie. Trust me to get ahead of myself.

​Wait for it. Just wait​. Seriously, stop being impatient.

Jordan's worst word count dilemma ​ever? I was initially 2000 words over for a component of my research project. I wouldn't recommend it. On that note, I wouldn't recommend research project either.

(groans)

Do not even ask.

At least research project made one thing clear: I'm not about to spend my life conducting interviews, "action research" or writing reports for research studies I've fantastically accomplished. No, this does not mean I am any closer to making my decision about the uni course I will apply for. Now you're getting ahead of yourself.

Maybe I'll win the lottery. Yeah. Sounds like a plan.

Five minutes smiling and my face was already hurting...

I'll admit: formal is not for everyone. There are those that dress nicely, attend the evening, have a few laughs and pile the food high on their plates. They swing their feet to the beat of the music and strum their fingers on the tables, waiting for the speeches to just end. They smile, pretend to love everyone's outfit and maybe even snap a few selfies to promote their ability to be "social" on snapchat.

Well.

This was not me.

Definitely not.

I love everything that is spontaneous e.g. going out for lunch with my best friend on the last day of term, checking out the Law Courts with her out of pure curiosity and making a poor but surprisingly super fun unpublished YouTube channel that revealed that while she can place and name most members of my family (aunties and uncles included), I don't even know the name of her first cat.

BUT. Formal is planned. Boy, every single minute of that night is drafted, edited and then finalised. And did I enjoy myself? You can bet your bottom dollar I did! Did my feet absolutely kill? Absolutely. Did it draw away from my fun? Please.

• ​The food was crap - pity for the people that were only attending for that.
• The decorations of the room were average.
• Some fake tans were...very, very fake.
• Some girls looked like walking zombies.​ NOTE: 'smoky eyes' does not mean 'paint my eyelids black so I look like I refused to die before this unforgettable event'.
• Some dresses exposed so many body parts I had to ask myself if they'd forgotten to add the accompanying undergarment.
• Some dresses didn't show enough. And no, that is not me being perverted. Girls were literally swimming in their outfits.
• HIGH FIVE to the people that took of their heels to dance. You're my inspiration.
• Also, let's give the guy that wore a kilt a big applause.
• Taking photos was fun, but they might want to hire someone that can actually frame a photo next time.

Yes, I did attend the after party. Yes, it was loud. Yes, the lights wouldn't have been so good for someone with epilepsy.

YES, I HAD THE BEST TIME. For all those party virgins out there like me, here is my advice:

STAY. You don't have to drink to have a good time (when in doubt, imagine me with my water). You don't have to be embarrassed about how good/bad you're dancing - people are too drunk to remember. You can make new best friends for the night with people you've never talked to that will probably forget you exist the moment they wake up the next day (or, in my case, later that same day).

But the best piece of advice for the whole night? Get ready. This advice is pure gold. It wouldn't be dumb to expect it engraved into my tombstone:

Wear flats to after party.

Never play 'Would You Rather' including people from your friendship group...

Coming from someone who knows the struggles of being a music student, Sports Day is one of the biggest NON-EVENTS of the year - especially as a year twelve that should be focusing more on celebrating the fact that I DID NOT CRY DURING OR AFTER MY MATHS TEST.

My school told the year twelves to dress up in our house colours. So, naturally, in the spirit of "senior year", I wore school PE shorts and my school jumper. I even wore my hair down, just to emphasise my lack of participation in all events. Does cheering on other people count? Doubt it.

Question To Self: Then why was my body so tired when I got home? (insert emoji with confused expression)

***

Now, listen up. Or should I say "read up"?. Feel free to leave after that cringeworthy wink-wink moment.

We've all had those absolutely, stupendously fantastic ideas where you decide to play a game to figure out if someone does have/has ever had a crush on you. You're a fool if you've convinced yourself that has never popped up in your mind. But, if you seriously have never considered the 'Would You Rather' or 'Truth or Dare' hacks, WELCOME to the 12-18 year old female human brain.

First of all, stop right there. Seriously, literally stop moving. No - YES, YOU!

These games never work and, even if they do, you might end up finding out something you really didn't want to (virtually high-fiving everyone that has ever developed fake feelings for someone after finding out that person liked them).

Second of all...

Actually...

I don't have a second point to make. 'First of all' was a bit pointless then, wasn't it?

Steps to represent how much I pretend to know how to live right...

If there was a book of instructions to life, I would have it on my bookshelf - bookmarked, doggy-eared, sticky notes sticking out at all angles and writing all down the margins (much like the work of art that is my English novel).

But there is no guide to living which, I guess, contributes to the fun bit where we, as individuals, have to figure it out for ourselves. I'm trying. I truly am.

So, what do I do in order to survive?

1. Don't stay in the same country. Duh.​
2. Always document holidays.
3. Never picked fresh fruit? I'm ashamed.
4. Put the phones down and pick the books up.
5. Never forget to save funny memes.
6. Limit myself to one piece of cake? Please.
7. Note to self: family will never let you down.
8. No filter is better than a filter turning brown eyes to blue.
9. Speak a second language (which should be a necessity).
10. Never try to draw or paint. I just can't.
11. Lighting candles can be romantic, but is totally unsafe.
12. Something I've learnt: ugly selfies are better than fake laughing for model shots.
13. Feel bad for taking breaks during study? Pfft, I don't care!
14. Bread is full of carbs? Sorry, what did you say? My hearing is a bit off today.
15. I'm never afraid to sing and dance when I'm home alone. (Talking to my dog is also acceptable)
16. Set goals. Make lists. Write a blog about setting goals and writing lists.
17. Walk, don't run. I see so much more.
18. Suck in my tummy (it's just like doing sit-ups).
19. Laugh, because it's an even better workout.
20. Wear sunglasses on my head to save a bad-hair day.
21. In a bad mood? Cuddles with dogs cure all.
22. Pencil over pen.
23. Have 50+ photos in my bedroom to promote happiness.
24. NEVER throw away old birthday cards.
25. Beach walk to start to the day (the best/only way).
26. Clean bed sheets regularly (keeps the nightmares away).
27. Stop bothering with nail polish.
28. Go camping - it's always better than a hotel.
29. Realise that people in books will always seem to have a better life than me.
30. Always drive with music on (and no, I don't care if people are staring at me at the traffic lights).
31. Never overlook my friends.

Choosing a degree is scarier than memorising my biology notes...

The future.

I've had enough of trying to decide what to do. Let's just get that time machine rolling so I can jump forward to ruin the surprise. (Let's also take a look at future technology so I can recreate it and beat the inventors to the chase. That may or may not be plagiarism. Such big, impressive dreams of mine.)

Back to this ugly topic.

***

"Find the derivative of the function and hence determine when the function is increasing and decreasing. State the coordinates of all stationary points."

(snorts) Will this maths question help me in anyway with taxes, shares or managing money in the future? Unlikely. Should have chosen Maths Applications. Shoulda, coulda, woulda!

***

In the senior study centre at school there is The Shelf. It is worse than all the homework scribbled throughout the pages of my ripped/folded/mistreated but actually awesome diary*. Stacked upon The Shelf are brochures and brochures of university information: the courses, the entry requirements, why you should go to one university over another...

*Tip One: Make lists! Not because they're overly important, but it's a killer feeling when you get to cross things off (especially multiple things simultaneously...especially maths...especially a career you now know you don't want to have)

If no one else is going to say it, I will: Stuff you, uni! Seriously, a bunch of formally structured paragraphs describing all the different courses (using posh words I will never understand) is not any more helpful with a bunch of students fake smiling on the cover, holding books related to subjects they probably don't even study.* Maybe that's a bit harsh... (guilty grin)

​Plus, the entry requirements (aka ATAR score) are extremely intimidating. Let's just cover those with a sticky note (with a hand-drawn smiley face).

But come on. Reading all these course descriptions is not going to tell me whether or not I will enjoy a degree. Gosh, who knows? I'll probably hate it!

*Tip Two: Study in the Library. Helps prevent gaze drifting towards The Shelf and resultant stomach ache.

My best friend's aiming for Veterinary Science - I could do that. Sure, I like animals. I have a dog.

Another one of my friends is going back home to Canada to study - not sure I could do all my studies in Canada. But would definitely investigate an exchange.

My mum studied music and then became a teacher - doubt I could put up with that many kids on a daily basis (really hoping that will change if I ever choose to have children).

I could study law. Yes! I can see myself standing up for others. Pity there are ZERO jobs.

Or I could always go into a trade. Plumbing would be a blast.

Maybe I'm overthinking it. Maybe I'm doubting myself too much. Maybe I'm being too negative. Probably. Not a complete surprise.

Tip Three: Be more positive.

Tip Four: Write better tips.

Tip Five: Avoid tips altogether.

Tip Six: Stop talking about the future. Get back to work and focus on The Now (if that's not the name of a movie yet, I call dibs).

My 2016 ID photo hasn't changed since last year's...

This is Year 12. The year when everything has to be perfect. The year when a Year 11 is shaped into an adult, ready to face the world. The year when all of a sudden, without any warning and barely any guidance, a 17/18 year old faces the question (approximately a million times):
What would you like to do after school?
Um, shut up? Go ask someone who knows.

​Fairly sure I'd rather curl up and struggle through the rest of my maths homework listening to sad love songs than deciding whether I want to be:

1. A doctor (who doesn't like making people feel better?)
2. A lawyer (I just want to wear expensive-looking clothes to work)
3. A scientist (I'd love a Noble Prize tucked up my sleeve)
4. An author (let's focus on something more realistic, yeah?)
5. An interior designer (my house will look like a magazine)
6. Or a personal trainer (not because I actually ​enjoy fitness, my friends just all go to the gym).

Which shines a spotlight on how much I truly hate thinking about the future, especially since I avoid it by doing maths. Perhaps I should write that again, let it sink in. I do maths to stop thinking about the year after 2016. Scary.

There's a certain beauty in being able to know exactly what you want. If that is you, PLEASE LEAVE. This is a formal warning. No, stay. Really. I'm just jealous. Tell me how you do it. People tell me it's smart to keep your options open, precisely why I chose English, Maths, Chemistry, Biology (and, last year, French) as my Year 12 subjects. But that concept died and fossilised under a rock fifty-thousand years ago.
I know one thing: I do not, or will ever, want to become an Engineer. Eughaaahugh.

Sorry, Engineers.

Sorry, not sorry. I just really don't like maths. It's Term 1, 2016 and it's taking me a half an hour to finish 6 questions (yes, I timed myself). Half an hour is a long time in total misery.

So I can cross maths off the list.

Chemistry. Everything is just so small, tiny little molecules that make up everything around us. Great! Just not for me.

Biology + English = LOVE

Biology + English (as a job) = poor scientist with killer narrative writing skills. See the issue? And now they want me to pick an occupation?!?! I've been in school for the past 12 years, people. Pfft, let's all just calm down a notch.