You know how sometimes you just can’t sit down and do something? I’ve been putting off writing my speech for months, but I just did it in under two hours. A rather brilliant speech too, from the top of my head… Most of the reference links were only there because they need to be. How much do I rock? :p

Now on to my philosophy paper… Oh god.

Exactly what the title says. :) Some nifty findings of the past few days.

Firstly, I’m always pulling my hair by accident. Either with my backback, bag, they get stuck in the zippers of cardigans and jackets or they just pull themselves when I sit. -.- I have found that a plait solves all that. -.- Yeah, yeah, I know… Better late than never.

Secondly, if I pull my fingers along my blue thermo-velour blanket with snowflakes in the dark, you can see sparks! Static electricity… Wiiiii! XD

My cousin said, about kicking me: “I have steel toed boots and yours are old! -.-“
My classmate about a teacher: “She reminds me of moss.”

A cruel passage of school life from this week. The teacher was talking about us going on to the Cold War subject and that it’s… (This is where a girl jumps in.) “Lame, annoying, ugly!” … The teacher in his usual manner: “Is that what you say when you look in the mirror in the morning?” Ouch.

And what’s with the whole “leather politics” in Orto? Why can you go upstairs with a leather jacket, but not with something else? -.- Seriously, I’m curious, what’s it about? And when did it become political? We got Mlada Slovenija bracelets. I think they sponsored the event… I mean… What? o.0 This is beyond me.
Also, the security guards were mean as usual, not good for people with a short fuse. Blonde anyone?
Morannon were great though! Congrads! Hihihi… I finally made it to their gig. :) Took a while. We didn’t see much of Aperion, as my cousin had a lot to do for school still… I feel a bit guilty for dragging Amaya along though, she’s sick now. :(

Also, I’d like spring much more if it weren’t for all the mud. It’s pretty though, I missed sunshine. The Kamniško-Savinjske Alpe (Alps) are beautiful in the morning, when the sun is rising. :) and in the evening, when it’s setting… Ah. *sigh*

There’s a Vlado Kreslin song that has been waking me up for a few months now. It’s titled “Z Goričkega v Piran” - From Goričko to Piran. I think I love it as much as I do because the lyrics are comforting. They remind me of the summer. It’s not the summer with the heat and discomfort that I miss, just the freedom. Heh… and train trips. I’m not sure why I like trains, probably ’cause of the romantic image that Blues and Country created. One of my favourite memories of this summer is a train trip to Piran that Biks and I took. She wrote about it on her blog (here and here), you should read it, if you speak Slovene. She’s got a great style of writing.

There’s a saying on my wall that tells me the only easy day was yesterday. I hate waking up with the awareness, that in a few hours I’ll be grumpy and in need for an aspirin… And that there’s nothing I can do about it.

I hate having a beautiful, elaborate poem explained to me in a way, that expects me to be either stupid or 5 years old. I hate it even more when the interpretation, that I have to listen to, is superficial or just pure bullshit nonsense. I hate having to sit through 45 minutes of random things, that have nothing to do with the subject.

I hate feeling threatened by vulgar comments and innuendos. I hate feeling having my privacy/personal space violated by sexually suggestive talk, that I am expected to put up with.

I hate being told I am incompetent, irresponsible, lazy, stupid, immature, inappropriate, unprepared, rude, disrespectful and ought to be in either the kindergarten or ZUIM (Centre for education and rehabilitation of physically handicapped youth) across the street, by a teacher who is usually late, rarely prepared, never does what she says she will, is always disrespectful and actually came to class totally wasted on an occasion.

I hate hypocrisy. I hate being preached about responsibility by someone who feels they are above it.

Teachers, or professors, as they prefer to be called, are odd creatures. Most aren’t very good at their job, or they wouldn’t be if they tried to do it. In the morning, when I wake up and look at the day’s timetable, my mental list goes something like: Boring, Drunk, Ouch, Philosophy, Ugh. Only classes with proper teachers get their proper names. The Ugh had a proper name until recently. I miss Biology, we had a wonderful teacher, I loved it, even though I sucked at it so bad it stopped being funny.

Either way, History, a class with a proper name, was fun a few days ago. That doesn’t happen often nowadays, because we’ve already done all my favourite topics. Vikings, Middle ages and Renaissance. Now we’re on to the 2nd industrial revolution and WWI. The only things I really enjoy in the WWs are the theory of Nazism and Wagner. It sounds cold to say you enjoy something about the WWs, doesn’t it? I also like the word Birkenau, it has a beautiful sound. Some words just do.

To return back on topic. The history teacher was asking a classmate in front of the blackboard. He wanted to know if the classmate recalls any inventors and their fields of expertise/inventions from the 2nd industrial revolution. Silence. In the end, the teacher gave up and exclaimed: “Professor Baltazar.” My classmate replied: “Chemistry!”

Hihi… :)

And for those, who don’t know who Professor Baltazaar is, a helpful link: [x]

Actually I think he was more of a physicist. I’ll need to find a Baltazar videotape somewhere, I’m feeling nostalgic.

Let’s face it, we live in a beeping world. Beeps dictate our life.

Beep, beep! - Oh! An SMS!
Beep, beep! - Whiiii! Somebody called!
Beep, beep! - Oh no, 5 more minutes… *snooze button*
Beep, beep! - Not School again!
Beep, beep! - It’s green, you moron, drive!
Beep, beep! - End of class, yay!
Beep, beep! - Better get to class now.
Beep, beep! - Whiii, I can cross the street!
Beep, beep! - Yeah, yeah, I’m waiting for that green light.
Beep, beep! - Oh, the muffins are done.
Beep, beep! - New e-mail.
Beep, beep! - New IM.
Beep, beep! - Updates…
Beep, beep! - Error!
Beep, beep! - Someone’s at the door!
Beep, beep! - Can somebody answer the phone?!
Beep, beep! - Mom’s phone.
Beep, beep! - Sis’s phone.
Beep, beep! - Dad’s phone.
Beep, beep! - Cousin’s phone.
Beep, beep! - Not my phone.
Beep, beep! - I can get food from the microwave now.
Beep, beep! - I ought to fasten my seatbelt.
Beep, beep! - I should close the fridge.
Beep, beep! - Ooops, I forgot something again…

Yeah… I noticed that I forget most things that don’t beep at me. Kinda scary… How many mechanical noises have we learned to recognise? The opening tunes to Aisha are our end-of-class’s school bell, the song randomly came up on the radio one day and I got a strong urge to get up and pack my books, despite sitting at home on the sofa. Brain-washed? Indeed.

There are several milestones in a year. Your birthday, per instance, or New Year’s Eve, the last day of school, or the day your world came to an end. We tend to make life-altering decisions on those days, give ourselves a fresh leaf of paper to start scribbling on… Eventually, destroying the whole thing and starting anew with the next closest milestone.

The closest milestone, from today is tomorrow. Well, today rather, seeing as it is past midnight. The first day of school, I feel as if I am 7 again and going to 1st grade, having that inexplicable feeling that everybody is bigger than me. My first days in the previous 4 years on the school have been accompanied by a peculiar lack of feeling, the details of where I was to be contained for the better part of my year being too insignificant to bother.

I am different this year, not in any outwardly way, but my perception has changed. Better put would be, that there are now two perceptions. One is a frog’s point of view and the other one belongs to a bird.

Either way, I honour the coming milestone with a new decision.
This year, I’ll be different.

For any cynic who reads this, wait till I prove I won’t be. Shoo.

It’s a weird feeling, not having to do anything. It’s been 3 years since I’ve had a proper holiday. I have yet to pass a year in High School without a make-up test. In my first year, it was Biology. Silly, I know, I didn’t study during the year. In my first second year, it was Geography and Maths. Geography, like Biology, wasn’t a problem to fix, but Maths… Uf, Maths. It’s actually quite an interesting subject, the only problem is that I suck at it.

But I passed yesterday, for a change. :p And on to my 4th year of High School, I go. Thanks to one of my friends, who taught me everything that I didn’t forget, or mix up, when it actually needed to be used. There’s a girl with a lot of patience. :)