Stairway to Heaven- song lyrics moving image

Poetry Moving Image

Week 3 Term 3

Speeches are next week. I nearly know mine off by heart. It's about fairy tales and how children don't believe them any more. I was really stuck for a topic.
We have four Chinese students and their teacher staying at our school. They're pretty interesting. They are also really good at maths. They are staying here to develop their English but I haven't heard them using it much, the girls at least. There's a boy in my class who knows a bit of Chinese so he sometimes acts like a translator for us.
In the past two lessons of music we made a commercial jingle on the iPads and composed some Blues music. For the commercial Kylie and I wrote about a ten line rap about Mr Whippy ice cream, but we only used two of those lines and the chorus because it was only allowed to be eight bars. The blues were interesting to hear and black slaves were interesting to hear about, inhuman though it is. We listened to Bille Holiday's Strange Fruits as well. When it came to writing a song, the only topic I could think of was the delicious meatballs I had the night before that I couldn't eat because there was about 100% too much chilli in it. So my song was the Meatball Blues. I should have worked with somebody. They might have had a better idea.
For French we are focusing on items of clothing. The names of the different clothes are relatively easy to remember; what's not is whether they are feminine or masculine. And that if you are going to say a colour it goes after the noun, for example, 'Je porte une jupe greis', I am wearing a skirt grey, rather than grey skirt.

Term 3 week 2

We have the inter house Haka Extravaganza tomorrow, in celebration of the 40th Maori week. Matua Pou wrote us a school haka that we've nearly learnt. It means we haven't had school singing for two weeks, but I don't really mind that.

It's the college expo today. It's when all the teachers of the different optional subjects from TA College come and have a stall thing where they show you what you do in that subject. It's really interesting. Last year I decided I was going to do graphics, outdoor ed, special effects, and metalwork, but then I found out I wasn't going to TA College. The other subjects that I can remember are agriculture, where you got to ride quad bikes or motorbikes or something in year ten, sewing and cooking which I think was joint, woodwork, drama, music, economics, and another four or five that I can't remember. It's been exactly a year since then, give or take a few days.

For Tech Arts we are in Music now. For our first lesson we had a look at some Spanish/Latin dancing and music. For the second we did some Irish jig music, which was the lesson I was looking forward to most because I'm Irish and I love the Irish music, but I missed that one because I shut my hand in the door and had to see the doctor. This last lesson we did some Maori stick games to a waiata called E Papa. I did those in primary school, and I loved doing them, and the song really is beautiful. The stick games were kind of hard though, having to throw and catch at the same time.

Week 1 term 3

Term three. Speeches. Cross country. Another term full of hard work.

We've just started on Algebra, and we've been doing things on rules and graphs.
Say the rule for the cost to hire a hall is C=7h+5. This means it's five dollars to actually hire it and seven for each hour. So to get rid of h, you would substitute it for the number of hours you were staying there. If you were staying for, say, four hours, the cost would be 7x4=28+5=33. So for four hours, C=$33.
If somebody makes little triangles out of matchsticks and adds them on in a line, so one triangle is three matchsticks, two is five, three is seven and so on, to find the number of matchsticks on the nth triangle, you would either find a rule or graph it. The rule for this particular pattern is M=2n+1, so if n was 13 you could go 13x2=26+1=27, so on the thirteenth triangle there would be twenty-seven matchsticks. If it was a graph, you would have n, 1, 2, 3 and so on, and going up would be M, the number of matchsticks, 5, 10, 15, 20, and so on. You would plot the first few points, one =three, two=five, and so on. You draw a line connecting all of them, and then you keep drawing a strait line, going through all the points, until you are equal with the nth  line along the bottom, so if it was 27, you'd cross 27 lines and whatever that point was equal to on the other line was the number of matchsticks needed for 27 triangles. I've personally found rules to be much more accurate, and also they take up about three squares in a maths book where a graph takes up about a hundred at least. I prefer rules.

For reading we've been doing Reader's Theater; like a play but most of the acting is with your voice. It's pretty fun. My group has a script on William Tell, a person who lives in Switzerland who can shoot really straight with a bow and arrow and can sail a boat in a storm and keep it afloat. They're being taken over by Austria and he won't bow to the general's hat. I'm the narrator.
We also are doing some things on ballads; we have to find one that we like and write the meaning or something and then we have to write our own. I love writing rhyming poetry. It comes pretty easily. For example,
I'll tell you the tale of the magic book
The one that blinded you at one look
It was stolen by a sneaky crook
Blindfolded so he couldn't look
But he had been shot in the foot
So he fell and lost the magic book
Which was found by a famous cook
Who fell to his knees and shook
But the crook recovered and he took
The magical blinding book.
All made up, just on the spot. It's random and it's not very good but the point is, rhyming isn't always that hard.

Week 11 term 2

It's the last day of school before the holidays. On one hand, no work, no remembering to go to things, and no worrying about not getting stuff done on time. On the other, it's really lonely.
We had our Year 8 cafe this week, which went pretty well. We got our food cooked on time and everyone seemed to like it.
We've lately just been doing short maths exercises on probability, tree diagrams and such. They're pretty easy. Say you had two coins. When you toss the first coin you get either heads or tails, and same for the second coin.  First you would have two branches of either 'h' or 't', and from each of those you would have two more branches, one for the head that the second coin could end up on and one for the tail.
In the end, it should look something like this, except more like two triangles on the end:
 

            Outcome
     H    heads and heads
    /
  /
H --T   heads and tails
/
\
 T--H   tails and heads
    \
      \
        T  tails and tails

Week 10 Term 2

This term has gone by really fast! I haven't posted since production. That went really well by the way. It wasn't that nerve-racking because with all the lights in your faces you couldn't see the audience.
I have done a lot of maths since then. We've just finished area, perimeter and volume.
To find the volume of a cylinder/cylindrical shape you first find the area of the shape on the side,  so if it was a circle that would be the radius squared times pi, then you multiply that by the length. I've done lots of other problems too, like how to find the cost of this if there's all of this stuff to buy etc, but mostly it's just finding area, which is base times height, or if it's a right-angled triangle it's base times height divided by two, triangle is base times half the height, circle is pi times radius squared, and the trapezium is the average of the top and bottom times height. The volume of any 3D shape I've come across these past few weeks is area of end times length. I don't know how to find the area of a sphere though, and what about 4D shapes? Like tesseracts and the like. I wonder how to find the volume of those. Come to think of it, I've never heard of them having a volume before.
Speeches are next term. I think I have a good speech topic and I can write a good speech, mostly. I don't like saying it in front of people though.

Production

It's about halfway through term two and one of the big things coming up is Production; it's going to be big! Apparently heaps of people from primary schools in the area are coming to the matinee, and we are expecting big crowds. We've had the poster competition and now there are lots of posters around the school advertising tickets. And it's really coming together, too.
We haven't got it perfected yet, but it's working. We have really good singers, and I think it's going to be pretty exiting. I haven't been in a production for two years, and this one is much bigger. I had a bigger part last time though.

I think the plot is a bit too complex though; I saw the video for the previous one and I wasn't sure what was going on then. Maybe that was because I couldn't hear half the lines, but still. So I'm just wondering if the audience, especially the primary kids, will actually be able to follow why this is happening and they are talking about that etc etc. Maybe people will talk really loud and we won't have to worry, but still. It is a more complicated plot than any of the productions I've seen or been in, which is about 13.

But overall, I think it's going to all come together and it's going to be great, and I would like to encourage anyone in the area to come and see it.

Character description

Alone, she sat in the most secluded corner of the tiny cafe at the end of her street. Her curtain of wavy brown hair hid her face from the many passer-bys at the window, but she could see every one of them. A single tear dropped onto the curly handwriting, and rolled down the furled pages of her leather-coated notebook.

That notebook was, in a way, her own personality. Everything she felt, every tidal wave of emotion, was recorded in that notebook, until to her it was no longer just a notebook. To her, it was an old friend, one that she could tell anything and everything to since childhood. One that witnessed every tear she had shed, her one rope to hold on to as she dangled over the pit of depression. She always had it in her pocket, because she craved the comfort of the worn, faded leather.

Every page she had filled was covered in long, cursive letters that spelled the woes of her life. There were many, transformed from tears to blue ink. Her friend had listened for years, to her rants and her worries. She was teased for the sadness prominent in her gray eyes. She was an open book, a book about desolation and melancholy. Everyone could see it. Sorrow surrounded this girl like an aura.

And so there she sat, her tiny thin legs tucked beneath her, her baggy clothes swamping her figure, her scraggly, unbrushed hair hiding her face, scribbling her soul into the little notebook. It was her passionate addiction. There was nothing she could do to stop writing.

“Your hot chocolate, Miss.”  She lifted her face and the waitress saw tears streaking down her face, blotting the ink of the words in her notebook, and felt the overwhelming sorrow that surrounded her. She sat the hot chocolate down, smiled at the girl, and turned away.

As the clock struck two, the girl lifted her pale face once again, and saw the waitress approaching her. She sat silently, listening to her invitation to do something at the park, and for once she nodded, smiled, and replied, “I’d like that.” For once, rejection hadn’t crossed her mind, and for once, her weakly beating heart craved company other than her notebook.

As she was meandering around the duck pond with her first real friend, her notebook slipped from between her long, thin fingers, and she didn’t notice it lying in a puddle. She didn’t notice  the muddy water erasing her depressing life story. The girl never found it again, and she was much happier for the rest of her life.

Several years later, the girl was unrecognisable. Her figure no longer showed every bone, her face was no longer pale. There were no bags under her twinkling eyes and her full, healthy, dark hair was spun into a lovely bun. Her long bridesmaid dress showed the healthy, radiant young woman she was now, and the picture of sorrow she used to be was left in a puddle in the park years ago. Her thoughts were glowing as she picked up the long train of her best friend’s wedding dress, and followed the waitress that had changed her life down the aisle.

By Amy

Week 5, Term 2

This week I've done some work on Pythagoras's Theorem.
Pythagoras's theorem says that if you drew a perfect square along each of the lines of a right-angled triangle, the area of the square on the hypotenuse of the triangle is equal to the sum of the areas of the other two triangles.
I know that it doesn't work if you draw semicircles instead of squares, but it does work if you draw iscoceles triangles with a right angle. Or any shape with two equal edges and a right angle. I'm not sure about ones that aren't right-angled.
I had to do an excersise where there was a perfect square inside an perfect circle, and each of the four corners was touching the circle. Each of the sides of the square were ten centimeters long.  The excersise was to find the area of the circle. I figured it was easy, all you had to do was find the diameter, which meant all you had to do was find the length of a straight line that diagonally from corner to corner of the square. So, what I learnt you needed to do, was to apply Pythagoras's theorem. This square was cut in half, so I had a right angled iscoceles triangle. Sides a and b were both ten centimeters long, so the square on those sides were 10 squared, so that was 100 cm + 100 cm = 200cm. Therefore, to find the diameter of the circle, you just had to find the square root of 200, which is  14.14213562 ( that's as far as my calculator goes).

Week 4 Term 2

Opinion: going paperless.

Over the last few years, I've noticed many changes going on in my and my peer's education. The biggest of these is technology.

It has got to the point where, nearly halfway into term two, my new English book has about three pages filled. From the whole year. That's it.

In our class, we have seven monitors, about five or six laptops, two iPads, and nearly a dozen Chromebooks. I think. A handful of us bring our own devices as well. If you were to walk into our classroom right now, you'd see every single person in the classroom typing on some form of a computer. 

My question is; is this a good thing? 

All year, pretty much all the writing and reading work I have done was on a computer. Last year wasn't as bad, and I did get a lot out of my English book, but since I have come to TAI, my handwriting has become much worse. I don't like this 'let's go paperless' approach from the teachers. I was really quite attached to my handwriting. I had spent ages getting into the habit of writing my 'f's, 'a's, 'y's, and 'g's in different styles, and even more time getting out of that habit. I still do my 'a's with a little curve over, like on the keyboard. 

My point being, my handwriting is unique. It's a huge part of my individuality. But when you type everything, it's exactly the same as everyone else's. Now, my writing is messy and basically the same as when I was in year 3. The only difference is I can spell. 

Sure, it's more efficient, faster and everything, but does it actually help our learning? 

I learnt to read out of the books they gave us in school, not off a screen, and I want the next generation to be the same. I learn to write by spelling my name in chalk on the patio, not by typing things out. And to this day, when my teacher sends me stories to read for our reading work, I find it harder to comprehend than when it was printed off and handed to us. I can't type my ideas on a screen either. I can really only properly brainstorm on paper. 

My peers and I are learning just when technology is changing the most. We were spelling 'cat' at the age future generations will be at a computer. Right now, we've adjusted to writing on a computer all the time, but we learnt to write before smartphones were invented. We had pencils and those workbooks that have half the page blank so you can draw a picture as well. We felt privileged to use an eraser, we were proud when we were allowed to write with a pen instead of a pencil. Future generations will have none of that. 

Right now, workbooks are laptops. Pens are keyboards. Copy and Paste has replaced cut out and stick in. Highlighters are B, I, and U. I, personally, think it was better the way it was. The teachers, apparently, do not agree with me. I think it's a shame we weren't learning handwriting the way our grandparents were. I would have loved to learn joint handwriting, to have used it every day. I used to love the joy of writing letters, of receiving them in the mail. Are emails really the same thing? 

I used to take pride in my handwriting. Computers have ruined that for me. It was a unique part of me. Typing is just letters on a screen, but the different ways I did my 'y's were something I found joy in, just by adding the extra loop. I used to have beautiful handwriting, but since I came to intermediate it's just a messy scrawl. 

Every time I read my old workbooks, I'm saddened by the fact that my handwriting was neater at age 9 than it is now. Every time I look through the work on my USB stick, it's just a memory of when only the 'good kids' got to publish their work by typing it out. Not only did writing used to bring joy, typing did too. Now, it's just something we take for granted. It used to be a privilege. Now, it's just a boring way of putting, not pen to paper, but fingers to keys. I just want to do as much writing as I used to want to type. 

Week 3 Term 2

This week, in science, we were hypothetically on a desert island, in desperate need of fresh water, having only salt water and a range of equipment.
We had a hot plate, two side arm flasks and a tube, and two bits of wood to put the flasks on when they were hot. And 100mls of salt water, that was coloured blue.
I knew that when we boiled the salt water, the condensation would be fresh water and the salt would be left in the bottom. I didn't understand how we were supposed to get the condensation to go into the tube and in the other flask though, because I thought it had to be at the top. We boiled it anyway and hoped for the best.
Turns out the condensation did go into the other tube, and it did gather at the bottom of the second flast. We were left with clear, fresh, hot water in one flask, and blue-coloured salt in the other one.

Last week we made slime. We mixed cold water and wood glue, which gave a white, completely liquid substance. Then we added boiling water mixed with Borax, and coloring, and it because really hard to stir, because the molecules were moving close together so it was becoming more solid.
All the gooey bits were wrapped around the stick, and all the liquid was still in the bottom of the container, but eventually, with lots more hot water, it all became slime. It didn't stick to the stick or the container, and afterwards we had a lot of fun having sculpting competitions.

Week 1, Term 2

Holidays are over. School is back. So is life.

Last night was the Waikato Lit Quiz. It was a really fun night, and even though we didn't win we did do really well. My team came thirteenth or thereabouts and the other team from our school came twenty-first equal. There were some really difficult questions as well. 

We are in Science for Tech Arts now. Last lesson we were learning about atoms, molecules, and matter. And liquids, solids and gases. 

Each atom is made up of protons, neutrons and electrons. The protons and neutrons are clumped together and that's called the nucleus, and the electrons orbit around the nucleus in rings called shells. The first shell can fit two electrons, the second eight, the third eighteen, and so on. The number on the top left corner of the atom on the periodic table is the atomic number, which is how many electrons and protons that atom has.

The atoms make up the molecules, which make up everything in the world.
We also did liquids, solids and gases. Apparently, glass is not a solid but a liquid.

Once Upon A Crime

I already posted the link for the video we made at ONTV studios, but here it is directly. Enjoy!

Camp Wellington

We just came back from our class camp in Wellington. It was probably one of the most interesting camps I've ever been to, but I think it would have been better if we went abseiling and skydiving and rock climbing. Either way, everything else was pretty awesome.

We got to school on Sunday and boarded the bus at about nine o'clock, but because Wellington is like eight hours drive away, and we had stops in Tamaranui, Taihape and Bulls, it was around five or six when we arrived at Top Ten Holiday Parks. They had a Jumping Pillow, which was like a ginormous inflatable pillow. We played a kind of elimination game, where you try to push people off. It was fun, but you got really, really sandy. The rooms were very small, but the beds were really bouncy and comfortable. 

On Monday, after being woken up at ten to seven when it was still dark, we had to make our lunches and we departed for Zealandia, which was a wildlife reserve thingy on a mountain with pest-proof walls in. (In other words, my brother would not be able to get in.) We got to stroke some Tuatara and we explored a lot of the mountain and learnt about lots of wildlife, especially endangered birds and insects. Then we only had an hour to explore Te Papa Museum, which was by far not long enough. I got lost quite a lot, because I have a tendency to run over to whatever looks interesting, separating myself from my group, or else I run off in a complete different direction, and when I look for them I go the wrong way, or I stay in one place for ages reading something and my group wanders off without me. What can I say? It was really interesting. Especially the Air NZ exhibitions. They had one where you put on a kind of goggles-mask-thing where you could see a simulated illusion where you were on a plane, then on a beach, and in a forest, and in some other places. and you could look around, it was kind of like there was a whole invisible room around you that you could only see through the goggles. Then we went to the National Library, where we learnt about the World Wars. It was informative and interesting, but I stand by what I said before; it was a depressing subject to learn about. Especially when I read one of the letters an eight-year-old had written to one of the Army Generals. He had joint writing, but it was really messy and hardly decipherable. He wanted to be in the Army to fight alongside his father. There was a reply, saying they were glad to see such enthusiasm to fight for their country, but they couldn't accept him because he was too young. Then we went to a water park, H2O Xtreme, which had three hydro slides and a wave pool.

On Tuesday, we went to Carter Observatory, where we spent a long time learning about the planets in our Solar System and which ones would be habitable. We then had time to explore, but not nearly enough. Then we went into a cinema with a domed ceiling and watched some really cool movies, the first  about a competition to send a robot to the moon, the second about the constellations you could see at night. We then had lunch at the Botanical Gardens and too the cable car down to Lambton Quay, and walked to Parliament from there. When we got there, we had a chance to listen to Barbara Kruiger, the MP for our area. We then watched the meeting in the House, with all the MPs yelling at each other. Unfortunately the Prime Minister was not present. Next, we went to Capital E studios, where we made a film with news, weather and interviews for the citizens of Far Away Land, a fictional place based on fairy tales. I was the director, which was fun except when everyone was yelling through the headsets. If you want to see the video we made, you can find it at this link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lY3kvWHlYgY

On Wednesday, the first place we went was the Wellington Zoo. It was a pretty generic zoo, all the animals you would expect. Except there was a penguin with only one flipper, so  it kept swimming in circles. And there was a vet there operating on another penguin that we could watch. Then we went snorkeling.
 For many people, (me excluded) snorkeling at Island Bay was the highlight of our camp in Wellington. We were split into two groups, and our group spent the first half digging around on the beach or playing Naughts and Crosses in the sand. (I remain reigning champion of that game. I know some people would disagree. Their opinions will mean nothing when I rule the world!) Anyway, we spent maybe half an hour trying to get into the wet suits. Then the flippers, masks and snorkels, and those stupid hoods. We had to stay close to our buddies and adults, but it was really hard, because I could barely keep myself from swimming further and further away to explore. There were huge pink  paua shells, snake starfish (I thought it was an octopus the first time I saw one) huge gray fish, smaller other coloured ones, and lots of other things that I can't remember. After that, we went to a marine life exhibit. There were plenty of interesting things there, like a half born shark and lots of other fish and stuff, and an octopus which they fed, but I couldn't stay away from this long shallow tray thing filled with water and shells and rocks, and kina and starfish and hermit crabs and snake starfish and wandering anemones and mini sea cucumbers, which you could pick up and touch and hold! (The wandering anemones were so soft you couldn't feel them in the water, and when you picked them up they felt like wind on your hand, except slimy and wet.) At one point I had seven starfish on my hand at once. And the snake starfish were my favourite, if you put them upside down they turned themselves over.

On Thursday, we went to the Holocaust Center. It was depressing, with an aura of death and tragedy and guilt,  but I really enjoyed it. There was someone who came and talked about their own memories of being a Jew in Germany during the Holocaust, how they had to wear stars on their coats and were kicked out of school and weren't allowed to play in playgrounds. They then showed us how one school had decided to collect buttons, and each one represented a child that was killed in the Holocaust. They had collected 1, 500, 000 buttons, one and a half million. We were allowed to look through them, and I noticed how nearly every button was slightly different. I think the buttons were connected to the personality of the children. There was one that loved little kids, one that adored butterflies, one that was used to living in grandeur. One that loved drawing, one that was depressed, one that looked to the stars. There were triplets, all girls. There were happy ones and sad ones, and plain ones, and those with so many small details it stopped you seeing the bigger picture. After the buttons, we read some of the books, and watched a movie about a fictional boy that was a Jew in the Holocaust. His voice was happy when he was describing how life had been, and you could feel the growing sadness in his voice as he described how his rights were gradually stripped away from him. Then he was sent away to a concentration camp with his parents and sister, where they separated the boys and the girls. In the end, he and his father lived through it, but his sister and mother were gassed to death.  It was really sad, but I do understand why they teach us this now.
On a happier note, our next destination was Wellington Museum of City and Sea, where we learnt about the Wahine Disaster. Okay, scratch that. Not much happier. But apparently, a few decades ago, you could get a Big Mac from McDonald's for forty cence. And a burger, drink and fries for ninety.
After that, we went to Capital E studios, where my group made three Android apps using MIT App Maker. We each had an Android phone to test it on. The first one was simple, it was just a kitten that when you touched it it meowed (very annoying, too). The second one was a drawing app, you could draw in different colors and shake the phone to clear. The third was a magic 8 ball, when you tapped a picture of one, or shook the phone, it made a 'cha-ching' sound, and said out loud a random response like 'yes', 'no', or 'maybe' and such. The answer also came up, written, on the bottom of the screen.

On Friday, we were up at quarter to six to get on the bus. That was the end of our camp, so thank you to all the parents who came and helped, and Mrs Crowe and Gail for taking us. We had a great time.

Portrait poems

You might have seen some of these on the room three blog. I've deleted my surname and address so some of the endings aren't very good any more.

I Am

I am an intelligent bookworm in a changing world.

I wonder whether life is just a path to somewhere else.

I hear emotions,

I see thoughts.

I want a world where everything is trees and plants.

I am an intelligent bookworm in a changing world.

I pretend to be alone, the last person in the world.

I feel the end approaching, ever closer.

I touch the fluffy white clouds and ride on the wind.

I worry that the human population will die of Global Warming,

or else too much pollution.

I cry when trees are cut down.

I am an intelligent bookworm in a changing world.

I understand that not everything always works out.

I say nothing is impossible.

I dream of a lonely world where I have the power of flight,

where I’m alone and there’s nothing but trees, meadows,

and warm sunshine.

I try to capture my dreams in my writing.

I hope that one day, I will move to Mars and eat Earth Bars.

I am an intelligent bookworm in a changing world.

I am Amy,

Daughter of two, sister of three,

Who needs solitude, trees, rain

Who loves thunderstorms, chocolate, adrenaline thrills

Who sees growth, grey skies, stars

Who hates flies, loud noises, too much heat

Who dreams of flying, succeeding, escaping into space

Who has found poems of depression

Resident of a place I don’t want to be

Amy

Bookworm, bright, brave and bold

Sister of Daniel, Noah and Cassia

Lover of trees, books, and thunder

Who feels at peace when alone,

Happy whilst climbing,

Annoyed when having to put up with idiots,

Who needs mental challenges, serenity and novels

Who gives comfort, kindness and advice

Who fears reality, humiliation and failure

Who would like to see world peace, cures for idiocy,

and a serum to make you live in your dreams

Amy

Daring, intelligent, indecisive, humorous

Firstborn, daughter of Melanie and Joshua

Likes books, thunderclaps, and pine woods

Feels out of place, like I don’t always belong where I am

Afraid of failure and humiliation

Would like to see people writing with quills and ink again

I am Amy,

Daughter of two, sister of three,

Who needs solitude, trees, rain

Who loves thunderstorms, chocolate, adrenaline thrills

Who sees growth, grey skies, stars

Who hates flies, loud noises, too much heat

Who dreams of flying, succeeding, escaping into space

Who has found poems of depression

Resident of a place I don’t want to be

Opinions on World Wars

This week we have been doing writing on events during the World Wars, either Gallipoli or the Holocaust. I find both depressing subjects. I mean, I get why we remember them. But for the independant group, we do our own research. The websites on Gallipoli I found were gruesome, detailed accounts of many things that people did wrong. Many people died. It was, to be frank, not an enjoyable writing task.

Gallipoli started when the two fronts the Allies were fighting on didn't seem to be going anywhere. The idea was to create a new front that the Ottomans couldn't cope with, so the Germans would send reinforcements, weakening their lines on the main fronts. Then they intended to overpower the Germans and win the war early. I think this was a very ambitious plan, and it failed dramatically. Why would you do that when there was a less than 50 % chance it would work? If I personally was on the War Council I wouldn't stand for that. It sounds like it would work but it could just as easily backfire. It could also just as easily go horribly wrong and result in thousands of deaths, which it did.

The Holocaust is also a depressing subject to research. Hitler was a bad guy. Hitler killed many innocent people because they weren't pure. Hitler set up prison camps for Jews. If it was up to me I would choose to remember the people who died, not why they died or who killed them. Scratch that, if I had the power I would go back in time and prevent Hitler's parents from meeting.

World War Three, however, will be fine enough to remember. I mean, every country that has them will send nuclear bombs, everybody dies, and the whole world will be wiped out in half an hour. (It takes about half an hour for the nuclear bombs/missiles to fly around the world, land and blow everything up.) At least, that's how I think WW3 will go.
When you put it like that it sounds far-fetched. I'm pretty sure it's  not.

Week 6; happenings around school

MUFTI DAY!!!!!!!  That was today. It's almost over now :'(  and the theme was Wheel's Day. I got a Chrunchie Bar as a spot prize and everyone said I was really good on my ripstick.

Also, there are heaps of people in the school laying down concrete for a new path, and they're painting a S.H.I.N.E mural on the brick wall. Some random guys also took down the rugby posts so they can tear up the field and plant new grass. In term two and three we're gonna have to go onto Sherwyn Park, where there is no shade. Hopefully the field will be much better after that though.

Camp Wellington in two weeks!!! We are going to ONTV studios, or is TVNZ? One of them, anyway. Also, we're going snorkeling, to a water park, about three museums, and plenty of other fun stuff.
Oh, and skydiving from Mars.

Makuhari students are coming in from Japan and some people are having billets. We are on camp halfway through their stay, though. And, due to camp, we miss the school disco. Hmph.

I didn't

I watched you fall
I watched as you sank to the bottom
I stood by
With pitiful eyes
As you searched my face
For the reassurance
That I would save you.
I know now
I should have dived
Head first
Into the tornado
Of worries and troubles
Surrounding you.
I should have rescued you
From yourself.
Instead I stood on the sidelines
With the jeering crowd
I stood alongside those
Waiting
For your end, your last epic fail
I was your one, dim light
At the end of the tunnel
The one that kept backing away
At the speed you were going forward.
You were gasping for breath
I could have let you have it
But I didn't.
You were struggling on your knees
Waiting for the strength
You were sure I would give you
But I didn't.
You needed support
Something to cling to
I was supposed to be your rock
But I wasn't.
Along with the whole, jubilant world
I watched you going crazy
I should have saved you.
I didn't.

--------------------------------------------------------------

I looked to you for the support
You have always given to me
Without fail.
I looked up to you
On your high pedestal
Far above the gloomy abyss
I was at the bottom of.
We were always there for each other,
We were equals.
Since when did that change?
Was it when society accepted you
As the amazing, brilliant person you are
And shoved my down
To the bottom of the friend chain.
Suddenly
Now you'd risen above my limits,
You were too good for me.
I told you that.
I watched you run away from me,
Yearning for you to turn around
And embrace me.
But I told you to run.
I told you to turn away from me.
After all,
Such an amazing person
Had no reason
To stand by a nobody like me.
I didn't want you to leave my side
But I told myself you deserved better
Now, here I am.
I'm gasping for breath
I'm drowning
But you're only metres away
Still breathing
I know
The look of hope on my face
Will make no difference.
You have deserted me
Just as I forced myself
To turn my back on you.
Look where it's got me.

Week five term 1

We haven't really done that much learning this week. It's mostly been testing, and I already knew that I was a mental genius. I seriously didn't need tests results to tell me that.

Student lead conferences coming up. They're always really awkward but still, they don't last more than fifteen minutes at the most. There isn't really much to say about me. Maths; I'm really good at it. Writing, I'm really good at it. Reading, I'm really good at it. Yeah, that's pretty much it.

Maths is still integers. Turns out division is exactly the same as multiplication. Simple.

First Student Assembly today. The Zirka Circus is performing but don't tell the rest of the school; it's supposed to be a surprise. Well, I know nobody at TAI will read this before this afternoon so no harm saying it.

Hopefully we will have more work next week.

Week 4 term 1

So far this week has been a busy one. Swimming sports on Monday and again on Friday, I have my Head Student interview with the principal tomorrow (I have to make it go absolutely perfectly, no pressure) HEAPS of PAT tests (but I'm not complaining about that) and first Student Council meeting.

Maths has, like last week, focused on integers (for me, at least) and multiplication is pretty simple. I found a table in one of that maths books which is really all I need to know. - ×- = + and +×+=+, -×+=- and +×-=-. Easy really, but I have a feeling division is slightly more complicated.

I really should publish more writing. Hopefully there is Extension Writing this year.

What I learned from the fire alarm just going off, is that it is really quite a bad idea to set it off, pretend you set it off, or say you saw smoke just to scare people. Seriously. I mean, what's the point?

So, pretty full week overall.

Week 3 term 1

So, been a pretty good week as far as weeks go. I've got the position of class councilor! (Yay!) I've nearly finished my head student application and room three won at jump jam! Go us!

Anyway, we have been doing a lot of maths. I skipped a lot of the work because I already know it, so I'm doing integers! Negatives trip me up a lot but when it's just addition and subtraction it's relatively easy.
Example: -8 + 6
The method I was taught last year goes as such;
You write a number line
-9 -8 -7 -6 -5 -4 -3 -2 -1 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
You start at the first number, negative 8. Since it's addition, you face the big imaginary plus sign which is at the right end of the number line, and since the second number is positive you go forward that many spaces. (If the second number was negative you would face the plus and go backwards.) Therefore, -8+6=-2

I also got only one wrong in the puncuation and grammar PAT test for the year level above me. Yay me!

Hopefully I get head student, but if I don't I know it's because there's better suited people than me. Still, I really want the position. Too bad I lost my four leafed clover.

They Say a Rainbow is a Promise: My competition entry, soon to be published in an anthology!

They Say a Rainbow is a Promise.

They say a rainbow is a promise.
To the village it’s a reminder of the fair stranger that came. That promised to free them from poverty. He threw colours in the sky and the first rainbow the villages ever saw was a sign of happiness. Of hope.

The stranger had appeared one dreary day. All morning, near the town square, he spoke of resisting the king's unjust laws, of defending women's rights, of living the privileged life every sufferer deserved to live.
"We are the elite, the hard workers, the Resistors. We must fight back. Join me, fight for freedom!” He then reached into his voluminous pocket and extracted a handful of multicoloured dust and threw it in the air. The dust had become a vast rainbow. 
A promise.
When the youth was done, he needed accommodation. A farmer was inspired, and offered him a room. He had a very beautiful daughter named Hunter-Rose, who was nearing the end of adolescence. She was gentle and kind.
Hunter-Rose had a secret not even her dear father could know. Her mother was a siren. Hunter-Rose was appalled at what she could do. Not only had she inherited her mother’s beauty, but her ability to attract men like a magnet. She saw this as a curse and isolated herself from men whenever possible. 
When the handsome youth walked into her pristine kitchen, her father informing her he was to dine with them, it was only natural she was tempted — by his good looks — to use her extraordinary talent. 
Hunter-Rose was disgusted. She ate her dinner as fast as she could, then hurried upstairs to her room without saying so much as ‘goodnight’ to either of them.

Unbeknownst to her, the youth was staying with them. She realised, later, that locking her door would have been advisable. 
It was near midnight when the youth crept silently into her room. He perched on her bed and sang. Nobody had ever heard a voice with such melody. He sang of battles, of heroes, of tragedy. 
The voice snuck into Hunter-Rose’s dreams. Her subconscious showing her illusions of not the tales and stories the youth spoke of, but the youth himself. He lead an invincible army against the king — she was disguised as his right-hand man. She saw herself draw an arrow. A rose-red feather from the tail of a rare phoenix. The arrow sailed through the air and plunged deep into the heart of the cruel king. The youth hoisted her up on his white horse and they galloped off into the sunset. 
The youth left a blood-red rose impaled on an arrow with a lapis feather in her grasp.

Hunter-Rose woke clutching the arrow to her heart. She dressed in a blue gown with her red hair in ringlets down her back. With her heart in her hand she knocked on the youth’s door and was told to enter. 
The room was deserted.
A longbow hung in the corner, complete with a quiver full of the arrows she used in her dream. 
A note was plastered to them.

‘Hunter-Rose. I leave the duty I have created, in your hands. You must be the one to conquer the king. Destiny calls.’

Many years passed. 
The sting of the youth’s betrayal never faded over the years. Hunter-Rose could never find it in her heart to love another man. She never used the determination, the cowardly youth had stirred up, to overthrow the king.
Beyond the veil, what was he? 

He lived the life of a criminal, wishing that he hadn’t been a coward, and that he lead the many villages he had convinced on an assault on the king’s fortress. If he had, he might have been king, and had the lovely Hunter-Rose as a wife. 
As for the town, he left it more downcast and wasted than ever before. Whenever a rainbow appeared in the sky, everyone would glare up at it and shake their fists.

To others, the rainbow is a promise. To them, the rainbow is a veil. Beyond the veil, there is nothing but hate and regret.

So this is my competition entry. It's going to be published in an anthology and I'm really excited and proud of myself. 

Week 2 term 1

OK. This week has not, to my disappointment, focused on testing. PATs are next week. Sigh.
Well, that's not to say I haven't learned anything. I've nearly got the hang of tumble-turns, but so far I can only swim two lengths max. 
I've been reminded how to do multiplication and division with negatives; one negative in the equation and the answer is a negative, two and it's positive. Too bad I didn't remember that in time for the test. I still got into the extension maths group though.
I've also learnt who are the talkative new people in my class... The people not to sit next to if you don't want to get in trouble for talking. Not to say I will avoid them, of course, just won't sit next to them. For the first couple of weeks we get to choose who we sit by; mostly girls and boys separate themselves but there are a handful who make an effort to mix it up. I do, most of the time. 

Welcome to 2015!

Well, yes, I haven not been on Blogger for months. Let me just forget that. I can't go back to then and update my blog, because unfortunately, Einstein forgot to calculate the Theory of Time Travel.

So, Happy New Year! Hope you had a brilliant, sunny Christmas Holidays and was looking forward to coming back to school! I know I was.

Year 8! I know! Exiting! But the really sad thing is, all the year eig-nines (sorry) have left and now I'll never see half of them again. We'll have a hard time living up to the reputation year eights have- which is basically utterly amazing. The good side is, now, I can apply for Class Councillor! There are maybe fifty million more opportunities year eights get the year sevens don't, but I really can't be stuffed listing them all. One thing I really look forward to is Tech Arts- right now I'm in Soft Materials (sewing) and seriously, it doesn't get much better than designing and making your own whole polar fleece sweatshirts! I mean, come on. At my primary school, the year eights made cushion covers. Please. And in Science we get to make sherbet. And in wood tech we get to make speakers. 

Next week we start PAT testing! Yaaaayyyy! I love any kind of academic test, I know, true nerd. We had a maths test the other day, and I only forgot one or two things (even though I made a couple of stupid mistakes) so I did pretty well. We also had a Maori test this morning, which I might've kinda completely failed. Well, I answered about two thirds of the questions (that might be an exaggeration, I'm not sure), but about a third of those were complete guesses. I suck at Te Reo Maori.

Over the holidays, I got news that an entry I entered for a competition was being published in an anthology! (That's a book full of stories for those who don't know.) I'll publish that later. I was going to enter another, better one, but I forgot to do that, so I'm surprised that one got through. Yay!

Looking forward to getting to know all the teeny year sevens in the next few week! (I swear I was not that short at the beginning of last year.)

Good luck for 2015!