Tag Archives: NaBloPoMo

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My Science Teacher Lost Me a Dollar.

This is a fun story, if you get past the bit where I lost a dollar.

 

Our science teacher is infamous for telling the worst Dad-jokes ever. Like, audible-groaning-eye-rolling-sigh-of-irritation Dad-jokes.

So, naturally, we decided to bet on it. 

There were six of us. We each put in a dollar.

We’d start the timer at a random time, so our teacher couldn’t rig it. When he told a Dad-joke, we’d stop the timer, and the person who guessed closest to that time would win.

We placed our bets. The smallest guess, 1 minute. The longest, 7.

At 12pm sharp, the time started. Two timers on two separate phones, to make sure it was fair. We were all very invested.

We stared at our teacher. We waited. 

And then: “Can you go to the bathroom? Well, there isn’t any time for a bath right now, the lesson’s almost over.”

We all screamed and laughed. The timers were stopped.

1 minute, 9 seconds.

The boy sitting in front of me, with the guess of 1 minute, took my dollar.

I haven’t forgiven my teacher. 

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Science Tests Suck

Hiya!!

So I’m in science right now, and I am exceptionally bored. We just finished doing our topic test on the human body, and although I now know much more about the rectum than I ever wanted to, there were still questions on the test that I had to guess at. For some reason, teachers like to ask us about things they never told us about in the first place.

So, in recognition of that, here is a new list.

Things Teachers Do That We Wish They Didn’t Do

1. Give us assignments. Late. 
I know assignments are basically your whole job. I get it, I do. But when you give us a week to study for a big exam, or 8 days to complete an assignment, we get a little tetchy.

We are like Boy Scouts. We are big fans of being prepared.

*my science teacher is telling me that the one I guessed at required lateral thinking. I got it wrong.*

2. Ask invasive questions.

Such as, ‘why are you taking your bag to the bathroom?’

I’ve gotten his question more than once. Sometimes, a teacher will realise and apologise. That’s totally cool, thanks for that.

BUT PLEASE DO NOT STARE AT ME WHILE THE CLASS STARES AT ME, ALL SILENT, WONDERING WHY I COULD POSSIBLY BE TAKING MY BAG TO THE BATHROOM.

I don’t want to go into graphic detail (and you might know how graphic I mean), but I will do it if you keep gawking at me.

3. Dad Jokes.
Please, Mr Science Teacher, if you are reading this, stop. It’s not funny. I’m still annoyed that you lost me a dollar.

That ‘lost a dollar because of Mr Science Teacher’ story tomorrow!

Xx Loony

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Thinking Dinosaur

I have a dinosaur.

 

His name is Trevor, but my dad calls him Steve. I haven’t a clue why.

 

He’s much like a support animal.

 

He’s my thinking dinosaur.

 

I managed to get through a nation-wide exam (NAPLAN, anyone?) with him on my desk.

 

I am a bit of a rebel sometimes. What with my illegal dinosaurs.

 

Funnily enough, he made the exam somewhat less awful.

 

Tiny plastic dinosaurs can do that, apparently.

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Respect That: Why Medication for Mental Health Isn’t Your Concern

It’s too much to ask you to be understanding of everyone and everything. I don’t know that it’s humanly possible – it is, at the very least, excruciatingly difficult.

But if you understand one thing today, let it be this: some people are sick, and need to take medication. And that is okay.

By sick, I mean suffering from mental illness.

And yes, I am aware that the word ‘sick’ may not be how you are used to hearing mental illness described. But that’s what it is – being sick, having an illness.

And if someone with a broken leg can take Nurofen, someone with anxiety can take Xanax.

It is not your job to judge them. It is not your job to have an opinion on whether taking medication is right for them. It might be keeping them alive. It might be getting them out of bed every morning. The only thing you need to know is that it is something they need, and that is okay.

Taking medication for mental health issues isn’t usually glamorous. My friend Zarlo Cooman described it to me once as, “feeling the same at someone’s funeral as you feel at their wedding.”

Which is awful. But it’s better than feeling like you want to be at your own funeral. I imagine that is not a great feeling.

Medication for mental illness isn’t a cop-out. It isn’t recreational drug use. It isn’t to get high or stoned. It’s there to make people feel like people.

You job is to understand that. Your job is to respect that.

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2015, poetry, Uncategorized

I Am But A Humble Cat

sometimes i worry about things
whether same-sex marriage will ever be legal
whether feminine hygiene products will ever be GST free
and i could make myself sick over it all
but i’ll probably take a nap instead
for i am but a humble cat

sometimes i have very vocal opinions
like “can we stop with the stereotypes because i genuinely don’t mind dogs”
and “if i can have my nipples on Instragram then all women should be allowed to”
but my yowls are mistaken for cries of hunger
and so my food gets replenished
and i usually do not complain
for i am but a humble cat

often i am made sad
by the kids down the street using the ‘S-L-U-T’ word to Lexa the stray
because Tom was with Garfield and Whiskers and Tillie last week
and no one is judging him
and i’m made sad by the woman next door who isn’t spoken to by any of her neighbours
because of the colour of her skin and the lilt in her voice
even though her cat assures me she is quite lovely

i see these sad things
and i wish i could do something
but besides that, i hope you can
because as much as i want to change the world
i cannot
for i am but a humble cat

and if you disagree with me
fine
but know that you will forever be more prejudiced
than I
a humble cat.

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