![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bliumchikYesterday was twelve solid hours of debating with Diana. Well the debating wasn't so solid, but I spent the entire day with Diana... O_O
Friday morning, after getting some writing comp leaflets from Ms Jukic, I showed up as per orders outside the English staffroom for inspection by Ms Rankin. You may remember that the English staffroom is officially Scary. Well, Ms Rankin is the embodiement of the English staffroom. She has potato sacks under her eyes, and more black stuff around them than Marilyn Manson down a coal mine. She's cranky and caffienated, and her hair is one solid block of dye in an uber-Amelie-but-chunkier style.
I was a last-minute replacement by Diana because Carmen Liu typically decided it was more important to study for her exams, the day before the debate. Ms Rankin took a look at Diana, Alice and me and said, "Okay, so I've got you, and you, and - why do I have you?!" She then glared at me suspiciously like I was a spy sent by the HSIE faculty to infiltrate their staffroom and steal her coffee.
Diana quickly explained that I was standing in for Carmen the Great and that several other people had followed her lead, which was why we also had those two year nines over there, oh and Melissa. Ms Rankin twitches.
"Melissa who? Where is she? And you! Do you have a permission note?"
"Melissa Kwak. She's... actually I don't know-"
"Um no but-"
"Well find out! I need a team! Are you all going to Eastside this evening?! And bring in a note on Monday!"
At this point Ronnie wanders past and casually mentions that Melissa had just arrived at school and was going to class. Ms Rankins Evil Stare(TM) intensified by a notch. Diana and I offered to go fetch her, and she snapped "No! One of you go!" as though we were going to run off and play computer games the minute we got around the corner, giggling madly.
Diana ran off and came back with Melissa, who looked confused and cowered in her cute nerd-glasses under the Rankin Glare, as she also had no note. We were all introduced to the Itsy Year Nines(R) and put into teams. Then we hung around outside the staffroom chatting and being glared at by the Kenway (who had a class) until Mr Ramson turned up.
Now, Mr Ramson (aka Sweden, aka Cheekbones) taught Alice and I for elective history last term, and he was also Alice's English teacher, so we know him. We sorted things out with Ms Ramkin, got our topic for the showcase and were severely exhorted to also come to the Eastside semi-final that night (which Carmen had also dropped out of) whereupon we headed over to the bus stop and went to Martin Place. At this point, I still wasn't entirely sure what was going on - I'd only been told it was a Showcase this morning. Now it turned out that a large stage had been set up for NSW Public schools to show off to the masses - I was really disappointed that all the other schools had awesome dance numbers and things and the best we could come up with was debating - not even a drama piece or anything!
We met an official type and were told that our speeches were not in fact six minutes as we had previously been informed, but actually six minutes IN TOTAL, which meant one and a half minutes each. This was somewhat argh and immediately prompted furious pen-scratching and revising. It wasn't so hard for Diana, who had three entire palm cards plainly marked BULLSHIT, but most of my points were actually relevant. We managed to cut down on our speeches and waited in the wings (read: the middle of Martin Place, leaning against some pillars near ANZ) rehearsing and watching the other numbers. Some incredibly adorable kiddies danced to a Cuddlepot and Snugglepie song, which had us all going omgsqueeawww. Then there was a year five or six class dancing to Yesterdays Hero, which was frankly disgusting - you do not want to see little girls in miniskirts with lipgloss. That was actually quite sus because we were performing in the lunchtime slot, so their audience was basically middle-aged businessmen. Just, ew. The sad thing was that their instructor/teacher was like a thrity-yearold version of them. She probably choreographed in her own image. You don't want to see anyone under fourteen or over thirty in a miniskirt, boots and bright pink lipstick, you seriously don't. Some of the kids danced really well too, it's a pity they weren't about five years older cos it would've been awesome.
Three girls and a guy about our age did a jazz ballet number which was pretty awesome. Although some of the moves prompted giggling from Melissa, and I said: "Mel, if you make ONE COMMENT about his ass, I SWEAR TO GOD..."
Then it was our turn. We walked onto the stage, shivering (MAINLY from cold, because did I mention it was FUCKING FREEZING?) and stood there like sheep. It started raining. We walked up to the mic one by one and said our piece, which was solemnly recieved by the remaining (considerably diminished) audience, and were sniggered at by some of the aforementioned Skanky Preteens. After we were done, to polite applause, show of hands considered the negative won, and then we filed off and politely stayed to watch another dance piece and a singer in stilletos who must've had trouble walking on the wet stage.
We convinced Mr Ramson that it was okay to eat there instead of going straight back to school, and went into the food court. Every single table was full. There was not a single table that was either empty or had any spare chairs whatsoever. We kind of stood around for a while, and eventually one freed up. Then some of us went off looking at food while the others hung around to clain the next available table, since only three could possibly fit on that one. Everything was eventually worked out to our satisfaction, and then we got on the bus back to school despite Alice's pleas for a Boost detour.
When we got back the office gave us conveniently open-ended notes stating that we had been at debating "All day". With this in mind, Diana and I saw absolutely no reason to sit through two periods of science, and went to play computer games instead. We wandered back to class fifteen minutes before the bell, and Ruxi stuck a sticker on my cheek for no readily apparant reason. After this was, of course, regular Friday debating coaching, in which Zoya impressed upon us that if the topic of the debate required us to be complete and utter fascists in order to maintain a hardline case, then so be it. For example, you cannot win on affirmative for That We Should Censor the Media if you concede that there is a problem with not letting people publish negative things nabout the war in Iraq. Freedom of the press is for the commies and the bloody democrats! (As the Merkins do say ;P)
Then the Rankin came in and informed us that we needed a team for Eastside this evening NOW OMG because it was the almighty SEMI FINALS OMG and she didn't care how we got a team, as long as one turned up. I'd been prepared to debate at Newington that evening, but apparantly that was next week (Thanks, Diana) so I agreed to go to Scots for Eastside if I didn't have to go next week. Samira and Diana both called their respective parents and then also agreed to go. So we checked out the route on 131500. It was fairly obvious that a 326 from Bondi Junction was the way to go, but actually getting to the Junction... hoo boy. Well D and S both live in Woopwoop so navigation was left up to me - I think you can see where this is headed. So we cross the road to where I *think* the bus stop is, and a bus immediately stops labelled To [insert smudge here] Via Randwick Jnct. So I was all like yess we can catch a 400 from Randwick. And we got on the bus, and spent about fifteen minutes bitching about people at school. When we got to my earlier conversation with Alice about Nicky, we ended up bitching about people bitching about other people who were bitching about them, which was extremely entrtaining. However, at this point I realised we were in the city. So we got off the bus, I had a look at the sign and realised it said "to *Circular Quay* via Randwick Jnct" and that it had ALREADY PASSED Randwick when we got on it. So, DUH! Argh.
Thankfully we soon caught a 380, which went to Bondi Junction DIRECT, LAST STOP. No chance for confusion there. On this trip we bitched about Samiras ridiculously xenophobic parents, who apparantly don't like anglo saxons, chinese people, black people, russian people, german people, jewish people, christian people, hindu people, poor people, gay people and people who know what alcohol is. She told us about how they decided not to like Nicky because she was on Boat camp, where people got drunk. Despite the fact that Samira told them about boat camp as a point to Nicky's favour that she DIDN'T drink. O_o I mean I know what stereotypical Indian parents are like but this is a bit much even for that. I suppose the most horrible thing Samira could do to them would be to bring a poor white christian girl home and ask for their blessing ^_^
At Bondi Junction we went palm-card shopping (unsuccessfully) and bought a bag of lollies, before getting on the 326, finally back on our internet-reccommended timetable. Except half an hour late. On *this* bus trip I told Masha stories. The general consensus was "Maggie, all your friends are on crack." In fact my Kids - Don't Try This at Home (Or in Punchbowl) were recieved with such wide-eyed OMGWTF that Diana forgot her blazer on the bus when we got off (having been told the correct stop by a woman who probably wanted to get rid of the people loudly talking about weed in the seat behind her). Then we realised Diana's mobile was in her blazer pocket. Well, crap. She wrote down the bus number, time, timetable, destination, first stop, last stop, date, time, and her horoscope for good measure, to ensure that the bus depot could get it back. By now it was after six, and dark. We crossed the road and entered through an impressive set of gates. We saw a really huge building which we assumed was Scotts, but no-one was there and the door was locked, although the light was o. After getting directions from four different people, we went around th back, then inside, then out into a courtyard, then down four sets of stairs, then up two, then across another courtyard, then back onto the street and through a completely different entrance. There we saw Zoya and collapsed thankfully. Then Ms Ordell of the Nuclear Holocaust Hair and the Sunglasses of Doom came up and told us that, SURPRISE! This isn't the semifinals after all, it's the finals!
Hokay so we met the Scots team we were versing. They claimed to have debated a tall Russian year ten girl with blonde hair last time, which is weird because there aren't any tall russian blondes in *our* debating class... I think maybe somebody's been watching too much pr0n... so anyway, we were given our topic (That Australia's First Priority Should Be Its Own Citizens) and went off to a classroom to prep. We got chased out for five minutes by a cleaner with a vaccuum cleaner, and were given two whiteboard markers that didn't work. They had (hard plastic) swivelly chairs on wheels, and about fifteen minutes into our prep time I noticed it wasn't moving. "Whoah... it's missing a wheel... hey there it is!" So I went and got the wheel and reattached it, and while I was down there, noticed that it was missing four more. O_O okay... that explains why it isn't moving, on TWO WHEELS. It does not, however, explain the smell. Diana started opening windows as soon as we got into the room, and Samira heartily agreed - even I got a few whiffs of bad eggs through my blocked nose. So Samira pulled out her perfume and we all dabbed some on our wrists, and thereafter did most of our prep with one hand held in front of our faces.
I (having been hyperactive all day, probably due to overdosing on debating) spent about ten minutes pacing and ranting about nationalism, which ended up being Diana's point, and when it came time to sit and write my own notes (in the last fifteen minutes) my mind went completely blank of absolutely everything except a stereotypical Kossack dance routine that goes "Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" which, needless to say, was not particularly useful in our debate. When we got called up we procrastinated by going to the bathroom, which was sooo much nicer than ours (although the doors stick) while I tried desperately to think of extra bullshit. We entered the room and sat down at our tables, and thus the debate began. I got up and talked, not even faster than my normal speech, and got through my entire speech in less than five minutes. Everyone else was pushing eight. Then I collapsed on my desk in despair, and spent the entire rest of the debate writing comments on plam cards and passing them to whoever on my team wasn't speaking at that moment. We basically had two separate debates going - one with the other team about Humanitarian Aid versus Australian Issues, and another between ourselves about the gender of the adjudicator.
No I swear, the hair was long and straight and shiny and red, the cheekbones were feminine, the build tall and lanky and the chest flat. However the turtleneck was easily bulky enough to cover either an adams apple or smallish breasts. We totally could not tell! Later, when the adjudicator got up to... er, well, adjudicate, the voice made it obvious that he was male (as did the fact that he introduced himself as Hayden) but I swear, that is the most bishie I have EVER seen outside of Mission Trance. I thought the webcomics just made those people up! Wow.
Anyway, the debate was awarded to the other team, but apparantly it was close, which can only mean that they sucked almost as much as us. We got 2nd Place medals :D evenm thoguh we didn't actually do anything to get to the finals, that was all Carmen et al - well thanks guys! We also got cheese on sticks.
Zoya gave me a lift home - I had to watch her mirrors for cars and the brakes didn't exactly, well, you know, *work* but, nobody died, and that was the day in a nutshell.
... ... ... let's do that again! :D
Friday morning, after getting some writing comp leaflets from Ms Jukic, I showed up as per orders outside the English staffroom for inspection by Ms Rankin. You may remember that the English staffroom is officially Scary. Well, Ms Rankin is the embodiement of the English staffroom. She has potato sacks under her eyes, and more black stuff around them than Marilyn Manson down a coal mine. She's cranky and caffienated, and her hair is one solid block of dye in an uber-Amelie-but-chunkier style.
I was a last-minute replacement by Diana because Carmen Liu typically decided it was more important to study for her exams, the day before the debate. Ms Rankin took a look at Diana, Alice and me and said, "Okay, so I've got you, and you, and - why do I have you?!" She then glared at me suspiciously like I was a spy sent by the HSIE faculty to infiltrate their staffroom and steal her coffee.
Diana quickly explained that I was standing in for Carmen the Great and that several other people had followed her lead, which was why we also had those two year nines over there, oh and Melissa. Ms Rankin twitches.
"Melissa who? Where is she? And you! Do you have a permission note?"
"Melissa Kwak. She's... actually I don't know-"
"Um no but-"
"Well find out! I need a team! Are you all going to Eastside this evening?! And bring in a note on Monday!"
At this point Ronnie wanders past and casually mentions that Melissa had just arrived at school and was going to class. Ms Rankins Evil Stare(TM) intensified by a notch. Diana and I offered to go fetch her, and she snapped "No! One of you go!" as though we were going to run off and play computer games the minute we got around the corner, giggling madly.
Diana ran off and came back with Melissa, who looked confused and cowered in her cute nerd-glasses under the Rankin Glare, as she also had no note. We were all introduced to the Itsy Year Nines(R) and put into teams. Then we hung around outside the staffroom chatting and being glared at by the Kenway (who had a class) until Mr Ramson turned up.
Now, Mr Ramson (aka Sweden, aka Cheekbones) taught Alice and I for elective history last term, and he was also Alice's English teacher, so we know him. We sorted things out with Ms Ramkin, got our topic for the showcase and were severely exhorted to also come to the Eastside semi-final that night (which Carmen had also dropped out of) whereupon we headed over to the bus stop and went to Martin Place. At this point, I still wasn't entirely sure what was going on - I'd only been told it was a Showcase this morning. Now it turned out that a large stage had been set up for NSW Public schools to show off to the masses - I was really disappointed that all the other schools had awesome dance numbers and things and the best we could come up with was debating - not even a drama piece or anything!
We met an official type and were told that our speeches were not in fact six minutes as we had previously been informed, but actually six minutes IN TOTAL, which meant one and a half minutes each. This was somewhat argh and immediately prompted furious pen-scratching and revising. It wasn't so hard for Diana, who had three entire palm cards plainly marked BULLSHIT, but most of my points were actually relevant. We managed to cut down on our speeches and waited in the wings (read: the middle of Martin Place, leaning against some pillars near ANZ) rehearsing and watching the other numbers. Some incredibly adorable kiddies danced to a Cuddlepot and Snugglepie song, which had us all going omgsqueeawww. Then there was a year five or six class dancing to Yesterdays Hero, which was frankly disgusting - you do not want to see little girls in miniskirts with lipgloss. That was actually quite sus because we were performing in the lunchtime slot, so their audience was basically middle-aged businessmen. Just, ew. The sad thing was that their instructor/teacher was like a thrity-yearold version of them. She probably choreographed in her own image. You don't want to see anyone under fourteen or over thirty in a miniskirt, boots and bright pink lipstick, you seriously don't. Some of the kids danced really well too, it's a pity they weren't about five years older cos it would've been awesome.
Three girls and a guy about our age did a jazz ballet number which was pretty awesome. Although some of the moves prompted giggling from Melissa, and I said: "Mel, if you make ONE COMMENT about his ass, I SWEAR TO GOD..."
Then it was our turn. We walked onto the stage, shivering (MAINLY from cold, because did I mention it was FUCKING FREEZING?) and stood there like sheep. It started raining. We walked up to the mic one by one and said our piece, which was solemnly recieved by the remaining (considerably diminished) audience, and were sniggered at by some of the aforementioned Skanky Preteens. After we were done, to polite applause, show of hands considered the negative won, and then we filed off and politely stayed to watch another dance piece and a singer in stilletos who must've had trouble walking on the wet stage.
We convinced Mr Ramson that it was okay to eat there instead of going straight back to school, and went into the food court. Every single table was full. There was not a single table that was either empty or had any spare chairs whatsoever. We kind of stood around for a while, and eventually one freed up. Then some of us went off looking at food while the others hung around to clain the next available table, since only three could possibly fit on that one. Everything was eventually worked out to our satisfaction, and then we got on the bus back to school despite Alice's pleas for a Boost detour.
When we got back the office gave us conveniently open-ended notes stating that we had been at debating "All day". With this in mind, Diana and I saw absolutely no reason to sit through two periods of science, and went to play computer games instead. We wandered back to class fifteen minutes before the bell, and Ruxi stuck a sticker on my cheek for no readily apparant reason. After this was, of course, regular Friday debating coaching, in which Zoya impressed upon us that if the topic of the debate required us to be complete and utter fascists in order to maintain a hardline case, then so be it. For example, you cannot win on affirmative for That We Should Censor the Media if you concede that there is a problem with not letting people publish negative things nabout the war in Iraq. Freedom of the press is for the commies and the bloody democrats! (As the Merkins do say ;P)
Then the Rankin came in and informed us that we needed a team for Eastside this evening NOW OMG because it was the almighty SEMI FINALS OMG and she didn't care how we got a team, as long as one turned up. I'd been prepared to debate at Newington that evening, but apparantly that was next week (Thanks, Diana) so I agreed to go to Scots for Eastside if I didn't have to go next week. Samira and Diana both called their respective parents and then also agreed to go. So we checked out the route on 131500. It was fairly obvious that a 326 from Bondi Junction was the way to go, but actually getting to the Junction... hoo boy. Well D and S both live in Woopwoop so navigation was left up to me - I think you can see where this is headed. So we cross the road to where I *think* the bus stop is, and a bus immediately stops labelled To [insert smudge here] Via Randwick Jnct. So I was all like yess we can catch a 400 from Randwick. And we got on the bus, and spent about fifteen minutes bitching about people at school. When we got to my earlier conversation with Alice about Nicky, we ended up bitching about people bitching about other people who were bitching about them, which was extremely entrtaining. However, at this point I realised we were in the city. So we got off the bus, I had a look at the sign and realised it said "to *Circular Quay* via Randwick Jnct" and that it had ALREADY PASSED Randwick when we got on it. So, DUH! Argh.
Thankfully we soon caught a 380, which went to Bondi Junction DIRECT, LAST STOP. No chance for confusion there. On this trip we bitched about Samiras ridiculously xenophobic parents, who apparantly don't like anglo saxons, chinese people, black people, russian people, german people, jewish people, christian people, hindu people, poor people, gay people and people who know what alcohol is. She told us about how they decided not to like Nicky because she was on Boat camp, where people got drunk. Despite the fact that Samira told them about boat camp as a point to Nicky's favour that she DIDN'T drink. O_o I mean I know what stereotypical Indian parents are like but this is a bit much even for that. I suppose the most horrible thing Samira could do to them would be to bring a poor white christian girl home and ask for their blessing ^_^
At Bondi Junction we went palm-card shopping (unsuccessfully) and bought a bag of lollies, before getting on the 326, finally back on our internet-reccommended timetable. Except half an hour late. On *this* bus trip I told Masha stories. The general consensus was "Maggie, all your friends are on crack." In fact my Kids - Don't Try This at Home (Or in Punchbowl) were recieved with such wide-eyed OMGWTF that Diana forgot her blazer on the bus when we got off (having been told the correct stop by a woman who probably wanted to get rid of the people loudly talking about weed in the seat behind her). Then we realised Diana's mobile was in her blazer pocket. Well, crap. She wrote down the bus number, time, timetable, destination, first stop, last stop, date, time, and her horoscope for good measure, to ensure that the bus depot could get it back. By now it was after six, and dark. We crossed the road and entered through an impressive set of gates. We saw a really huge building which we assumed was Scotts, but no-one was there and the door was locked, although the light was o. After getting directions from four different people, we went around th back, then inside, then out into a courtyard, then down four sets of stairs, then up two, then across another courtyard, then back onto the street and through a completely different entrance. There we saw Zoya and collapsed thankfully. Then Ms Ordell of the Nuclear Holocaust Hair and the Sunglasses of Doom came up and told us that, SURPRISE! This isn't the semifinals after all, it's the finals!
Hokay so we met the Scots team we were versing. They claimed to have debated a tall Russian year ten girl with blonde hair last time, which is weird because there aren't any tall russian blondes in *our* debating class... I think maybe somebody's been watching too much pr0n... so anyway, we were given our topic (That Australia's First Priority Should Be Its Own Citizens) and went off to a classroom to prep. We got chased out for five minutes by a cleaner with a vaccuum cleaner, and were given two whiteboard markers that didn't work. They had (hard plastic) swivelly chairs on wheels, and about fifteen minutes into our prep time I noticed it wasn't moving. "Whoah... it's missing a wheel... hey there it is!" So I went and got the wheel and reattached it, and while I was down there, noticed that it was missing four more. O_O okay... that explains why it isn't moving, on TWO WHEELS. It does not, however, explain the smell. Diana started opening windows as soon as we got into the room, and Samira heartily agreed - even I got a few whiffs of bad eggs through my blocked nose. So Samira pulled out her perfume and we all dabbed some on our wrists, and thereafter did most of our prep with one hand held in front of our faces.
I (having been hyperactive all day, probably due to overdosing on debating) spent about ten minutes pacing and ranting about nationalism, which ended up being Diana's point, and when it came time to sit and write my own notes (in the last fifteen minutes) my mind went completely blank of absolutely everything except a stereotypical Kossack dance routine that goes "Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" which, needless to say, was not particularly useful in our debate. When we got called up we procrastinated by going to the bathroom, which was sooo much nicer than ours (although the doors stick) while I tried desperately to think of extra bullshit. We entered the room and sat down at our tables, and thus the debate began. I got up and talked, not even faster than my normal speech, and got through my entire speech in less than five minutes. Everyone else was pushing eight. Then I collapsed on my desk in despair, and spent the entire rest of the debate writing comments on plam cards and passing them to whoever on my team wasn't speaking at that moment. We basically had two separate debates going - one with the other team about Humanitarian Aid versus Australian Issues, and another between ourselves about the gender of the adjudicator.
No I swear, the hair was long and straight and shiny and red, the cheekbones were feminine, the build tall and lanky and the chest flat. However the turtleneck was easily bulky enough to cover either an adams apple or smallish breasts. We totally could not tell! Later, when the adjudicator got up to... er, well, adjudicate, the voice made it obvious that he was male (as did the fact that he introduced himself as Hayden) but I swear, that is the most bishie I have EVER seen outside of Mission Trance. I thought the webcomics just made those people up! Wow.
Anyway, the debate was awarded to the other team, but apparantly it was close, which can only mean that they sucked almost as much as us. We got 2nd Place medals :D evenm thoguh we didn't actually do anything to get to the finals, that was all Carmen et al - well thanks guys! We also got cheese on sticks.
Zoya gave me a lift home - I had to watch her mirrors for cars and the brakes didn't exactly, well, you know, *work* but, nobody died, and that was the day in a nutshell.
... ... ... let's do that again! :D
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-05-21 06:42 pm (UTC)*drools*
no subject
Date: 2005-05-21 07:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-21 07:51 pm (UTC)Ask her if he's gay for me.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-21 07:57 pm (UTC)And as to the toher thing... >_< surely it'd be the other way round?
no subject
Date: 2005-05-23 06:02 am (UTC)...question...
Why are the following listed as interests?:
blood
drugs
bondage
fetish
hentai
school girl fetishes
sex
...your grade is even more screwed up than I originally thought...
no subject
Date: 2005-05-23 03:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-23 06:54 pm (UTC)Oh god. That serves me right for never looking at the interests page :P
Hehehe. Hehehehehehe.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-24 04:25 am (UTC)XD.
I'm guessing some pissy yr 10?
no subject
Date: 2005-05-24 03:58 pm (UTC)