Showing posts with label phobia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label phobia. Show all posts

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Music Tour- Day One

Okay, finally I have a QWERTY keyboard and a chance to type up about stuff that happened on Music Tour! I haven't gotten very far yet, so for now I'll just post about the first day (and basically the only thing that happened on that day was that I went on an aeroplane).

Day One- Thursday 14th April
Thursday started like a normal day because I had to go to school first. Packing then had to be rushed, since we hadn’t had enough time to do so earlier, and packing was only made worse by the fact that my suitcase weighed 20kg and we had a 15kg weight limit due to the instruments. In the end, I had to pack my smaller backpack inside my larger one and shove two pairs of shoes in my larger backpack. All the while, I had the Flower Duet from Lakmé stuck in my head, which was ironic considering that that song was also stuck in my head on my flight home last year.

At the airport, I realised that I didn’t know how to operate my lock properly. When I worked out how to close it, I didn’t turn the dials enough (it was a combination lock). I only turned the top dial one space, so it was easy for something to rub against it and thus open the lock. We then decided to get another lock that I would know how to use, so Dad went up to get another lock, but…
… HE GOT THE SAME TYPE OF LOCK.
I’m not joking.
Anyway, I figured out how to use the lock in the end, so all was well. My suitcase ended up being 18 or so kilos, but nobody cared.
Since I had forgotten to bring my watch with me, we bought another one duty free. After that, I proceeded through passport control and security and then sat on a couch with a bunch of other people for ages. Our flight was delayed for about an hour, while all the time I was feeling a little anxious worrying about things like my lock and whether I had forgotten anything else. To top it off, every toilet cubicle I went into had a sign saying “Anxiety is paralysing” on the back of the door.
Eventually, we boarded the plane. I was seated between Jonty and Marta (middle seat in the left group of 3), as expected. We all had some fun playing with the phones on the seat while waiting. Angus called my seat even though he was right behind me, and when I answered the phone he replied with a “’Sup, Kayley?”
After some announcements in English and Arabic (the one thing better than a random PA announcement is a random PA announcement in a language you don’t understand), people fiddling with the phones had to stop because they had been disabled for take-off.
Jonty pointed at one of the illuminated signs at the front of the cabin, saying, “Look, that’s the sign that says you can’t call people!”
“Wait… which one?” Marta and I asked.
“That one! Next to the non-smoking sign!” was Jonty’s answer.
The non-smoking sign was on the far left, so there could only really be one sign he was talking about. Upon seeing which sign it was, I inwardly shuddered, and let loose a little nervous laughter.
“No, Jonty. That’s the toilet sign.”
Eventually the plane took off, and there was a mad scramble as we moved around once the seatbelt sign had gone off. My main concern was that I got an aisle seat so that I didn’t have to annoy anyone every time I needed to go to the toilet, so I just swapped with Marta. Jonty moved off, and Karri took his place. This worked out badly for Marta in a way- she ended up with the personal TV with the broken touch screen.
I played DS for a few hours, and when there were roughly 7 ½ hours remaining of the flight, I decided that I should get some sleep. However, doing so would require that I rinse my mouth and prepare my grinding plate for application, and the only really reasonable place to do those things was in the aeroplane toilet cubicle.
I had several weird fears that turning on the water or unlocking the door before flushing would cause the toilet to automatically flush, and I wasn’t particularly keen on hearing that loud flushing sound, at least not suddenly. I simply stood there for around half a minute, before deciding to simply flush the toilet so that I would know for sure that it would flush (as you can see, I was caught between a rock and a hard place here). As I flushed it, I dared it to “scare me” (out loud, but not too loud), and I must have somehow intimidated it, because it was actually pretty quiet!
For the rest of the flight, I tried to sleep. Sleeping was difficult because the light from the TV screens distracted me (it obviously didn’t occur to me to use the eyepatch provided in the amenity kit I was given) and there was nowhere comfortable to put my legs due to having stowed my clarinet under the seat in front of me. Also, I managed to spill water in the worst possible place- between my legs- so that was not fun. It felt rather mocking too as I used to be afraid of aeroplane toilets. I think I semi-slept for six hours, after which I cleaned out my grinding plate again in the dreaded toilet cubicle. This time, I got a bit too carried away with the “Scare me!” thing. I practically half-yelled it and I think some of the random normal people at the front of my cabin must have heard, because at least one guy was looking/half-staring at me. I did my best to ignore it, and made my way back to my seat casually… just casually

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Songs that are significant to me

For some reason I decided to think about songs that represent me. Maybe it's because I'm studying songs in English. Anyway, this is probably going to be a long post with a lot of videos. Here goes:

1. I Still Call Australia Home and The Aeroplane Song



Surprise surprise, these two are first.

If that actually did come as a surprise to you, let me tell you this: I conquered my phobia of loud noises to the tune of The Aeroplane Song (featured at the end of my video in my post The Journey: Live Another Day with additions) followed by I Still Call Australia HomeThe Journey, a 15-page Word document I wrote detailing how I conquered my phobia, mentions this.

And so, after locating the flush button I walked into the cubicle and began to sing the aeroplane song that I made up when I was about 10- the one with only two lines.
“Aeroplane, flying high
Aeroplane, in the sky”
Even though that song now enters my head at a much higher pitch than it used to, I hit that first note, a high E flat, pretty nicely. That song sounded the best I’d ever heard it in that tiny cubicle since everything resonated in there quite well.
It calmed me down until I actually had to flush the toilet. Ever since my first encounter with an aeroplane toilet I have not been able to stay in the cubicle while flushing it. I wanted this time to be different, but I was petrified.
So I compromised. I washed my hands and unlocked the door and started singing I Still Call Australia Home again and only when my hand was on the handle for me to make a quick escape, I flushed it.
Although the sudden noise made me jump I found that one emotion that I would normally expect to be there was not. Fear. I was not afraid of the aeroplane toilet.
2. Eleanor Rigby, Help!, Viva la Vida, Final Countdown and Fireflies

(Videos removed due to blog post being too slow to load. I'll provide links instead.)
Eleanor Rigby- The Beatles
Help!- The Beatles
Viva la Vida- Coldplay (note: for some reason, this link sometimes takes me to the login page of Youtube).
The Final Countdown- Europe
Fireflies- Owl City

These are all grouped together because I believe that all of these songs encouraged me to listen to different genres of music, not just classical.

School was the main reason I began paying attention to these songs (with the exception of maybe Viva la Vida). We looked at Eleanor Rigby and Help! in Music Literature and we're playing Fireflies and The Final Countdown in band.

Also this line from Eleanor Rigby caught my attention:

Waits at the window, wearing a mask that she keeps in a jar by the door,
Who is it for?
3. Soundtrack from The Legend of Spyro

I think the soundtrack (well some of the tracks anyway) got me interested in choral music and gave me a different perspective on orchestral music. In addition, This Broken Soul (The Legend of Spyro: The Eternal Night which will be referred to hereafter as TEN) and Guide You Home (The Legend of Spyro: Dawn of the Dragon which will be referred to hereafter as DotD) also encouraged me to listen to other genres of music.

Some of the other more significant tracks include (names are taken from the composers' website):
  1. Cinematic (The Legend of Spyro: A New Beginning which will be referred to hereafter as ANB, DotD)
  2. Cynder Boss Convexity (ANB)
  3. The credits music from ANB (which is also used in one level in DotD)
  4. Dragon Temple (ANB) to some extent
  5. Black Powers (TEN)
  6. Dragon Temple (TEN)
  7. Grove Action (TEN)
  8. Well of Souls (TEN)
  9. Burned Lands (DotD)
  10. Dragon City Golem Encounters (DotD)
  11. Small Valley Action (DotD)
  12. Small Valley (DotD)
All of these tracks can be heard at http://kneubuhlmann.com/music.html.

4. Saint-Saëns' Sonata for Clarinet and Piano

I can't play the middle bit.

Anyway... sometimes, when I'm upset, I think "let the river flow" and this song comes into my head.

5. Bohemian Rhapsody

Again, this one helped me to listen to a wider variety of music. My first experience with it was playing it on my clarinet at Health Camp.

Sometimes, when I'm really upset, the line "any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me" comes into my head.

This one probably relates more to the imaginary me (whose title and first name are in this blog's URL) though. She was protesting against something violently. Thank goodness true magicals can use resurrection abilities depending on the situation, or she would be even more beside herself than she is now.

6. The Pi Song



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I'll have to round it off there- this post is getting long and is making my computer slow, plus I have to go and play clarinet now. There will be more later though!

Sunday, February 27, 2011

My Journey

I was listening to the music from the ending scene of "The King's Speech" because I have to write an essay about it (I'm serious). Looking through the comments, this one caught my eye (and my mind, too):
"You are absolutely right immutabledude. What a piece of music to combine with the speech. The overcoming of a man's fears mixed with Beethoven. Just wonderful." -syedaamirmsd
It reminded me of how my fears were overcome with "I Still Call Australia Home" in a Boeing 737 toilet.

I found this email to my friend, dated 5th of March, 2007, detailing my plane flights to and from Singapore. Here's some of it- you can see how much I've changed.
I was busting to go pee. I really was. You see, when you're EXCITED, you really needa go! So, when I went to my seat, I asked the stewardess where the toilet was. "Yes, just here," she said, gesturing to the toilet door. I walked over and tried to push the door open. I pressed everywhere except for the middle. So I asked the stewardess how to open the door. She said: "Yes, these doors are really hard to open. Push in the middle." So, I pushed in the middle.
The smell hit me like a pang. And the size. It was awful. I went inside and locked the door. I lifted the lid and sat on the toilet. I did you-know-what, and then I got up. Instead of being smart enough to close the lid, I just pressed the flush button. I freaked out immensly. I was half screaming, half gasping, washing my hands at the same time. I was leaning towards the door. Leaning away from the evil Thing that was making the horrible, dreaded noise.
I didn't know how to turn the water off. I pressed every button I could see (other than the flush button). So, I unlocked and opened the door only to find the stewardess standing about 10cm away from the door (she might have heard me making "oh! oh!" noises). "That was FREAKY!" I said. And do you know what the stewardess said? Well, do you? She said, "Well, next time you know not to!" She giggled. Then I said, "How do you turn the water off?" Leaning forward, she said, "You just..." and then I noticed the water was no longer running and replied, "It's off now."
I sat down on my seat next to the Thing for about 5 minutes. I must have been shaking like hell. I was so scared, I needed to pee again. Yes, again. I tried to put it off and watch the seats filling up. But I kept on thinking the Thing was flushing! In the end I got really scared. I remembered what the stewardess had said: "I'm going to return to my cabin now. If you need us, just step there," gesturing to the section where the stewardesses are. I tentatively stepped round to the back and said, "I feel... queasy." I didn't exactly mean that, but it just came out. The two stewardesses there offered me a plastic bag. I said, "No, it's not that... I just feel..."
"Scared?" the stewardesses asked.
"Yes," I replied.
The two stewardesses told me to sit down on one of the crew's chairs and they started talking to me. They gave me a glass of water and they noticed the book I had in my hand (The Da Vinci Code). They both said they've read it, but didn't understand it! I told them that the thing that was freaking me out was the toilet flush. That's when one of the stewardesses (who had long, blonde hair tied up into a ponytail) said, "That's alright! I hate it too. Just tell us when you need to go and we'll flush it for you!" The other stewardess (with short red hair) tactfully kept quiet. I don't think she particularly wanted to flush the Thing for me. They also said I should close the lid. I had never closed a toilet lid in my whole entire life!
(the flight on the way home)
I settled down to eat my meal of spaghetti and meatballs. (I ate only the meatballs- I don't like spaghetti.) I ate the salad and of course, the passionfruit yoghurt dessert. After that, I found I needed to pee.
No escape, of course. Five hours without doing a pee? Uh... I don't think so.
So I knew that whether I liked it or not, I would have to use that Thing! It was occupied, so I stood up to make a 1-person queue. A lady got out of the cubicle and held the door open for me. I must have looked scared, because she asked me, "Are you alright?"
Me, being truthful, replied, "Yes... but... a little scared..."
I went inside and took great care not to look down the Thing. It freaks me out, to see just a hole and no water. Of course I locked the door as well.
I made plans to make three deep breaths before flushing the Thing. But, after I got up from the Thing I closed the lid, but I could only get past one deep breath when I said to myself, "I'm not gonna be able to take this." So, I washed my hands and unlocked the door. I held it open and pressed the flush button with my free hand. I got out before it flushed- got lucky!
Hehe. End of story.
In case you're interested, my friend's reply included these words:
Hey, guess what, Mum says we'll be going on holiday soon
and we'll have to fly there! So, should we have to "go"........
The toilet of doom awaits!!!!!!
You know, aeroplane toilets aren't so bad, I mean without them.! Can you imagine a plane full of busting people on a long flight!
Wow. I am printing out that email and taking it on the plane with me to Europe.

46 days!!!

Sunday, February 20, 2011

The Journey: Live Another Day with additions


This is a video that combines all of what I've written of The Journey: Live Another Day.

In order, the excerpts that appear are:
  1. The Awakening
  2. Walking down the 737 aisle
  3. Carolyn and Lucy
  4. The Aeroplane Song

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Fear and Courage

I found this article on Psychology Today titled "The F Word (and the C Word)." No, it's not about the F word and C word that people generally think of immediately. The F Word is "Fear" and the C Word "Courage."

One line that caught my eye was:
According to these researchers, the difference between courage and fearlessness is the aspect of feeling the fear and doing it anyway.
I guess that's like that time on the 737 when every muscle in my body was screaming at me to run when I was at the front of the queue, but I just told the toilet door to "stop looking at me like that" (yes, I actually did mutter that under my breath), went into the dreaded toilet cubicle once it was vacant, locked the door, did my business and FLUSHED THE DAMN THING.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Random dream last night

I had a random dream that I was flushing a vacuum toilet loads of times and I was thinking, "This isn't scary at all." It felt like indifference, though if I was seriously that indifferent to vacuum toilets then I wouldn't have flushed it as many times as I did in my dream.

Anyway that was a very good dream. Sorta makes me feel like I can do anything- even go on a plane for an 11 hour flight.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Walking down the 737 aisle revisited


I put in a poco accel. (short for poco accelerando- get faster little by little) starting at about 30 seconds in. I think this might help me put in a climax later. What do you think?

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Two stories and some more bits and pieces

So much about a storm. It lasted for about 10 minutes.

I found these stories (or, to be more accurate, my mum found these stories) in our house dating from when I was 5! Reading them, I thought, "Damnit, I could write better then than I can now!" (However, my mum and I think that at least one might have been a retell or copy of another story.)

Original spelling and punctuation has been retained- however, it's not always obvious whether I've used a capital letter or not, especially with the letters P and S, so in these cases I'll use whatever makes sense. Also, anything in square brackets are things that I've added while typing the stories up.

A Big Mistake [note: this one rhymes, which is why my mum and I think that I've copied something.]

I was painting a line when my Brush leaked a blob. What a mistake! I started to sob. I was so mad, I shook though and though. So I splased on more Paint... Some Yellow, Some blue. I Studied the PaPer and looked uPside down. I blew on the Paint and created a Clown! I Painted Some heads, Some arms, and then legs... and made some new SPlats that looked like fried eggs! What fun! What a blast! I would make this fun last creatures from circus burst into sight... from dreams and from nighttime, from Bright morning light. When my friends saw this art, they asked what it takes. So I told them my seacret... just make some mistakes.

MINE! [I think this one is either a rehash or a copy of another story, given the plotline and my age at that time.]

Isabel went to play with Claudia.
She climbed onto Claudia's rocking horse.
Mine! Shrieked claudia and pushed her off.

Isabel picked up Claudia's Carrot top doll.
Mine! Screamed claudia and Snactched it away.

Isabel saw Claudia's Wooden animals piled up in an old shoebox She took them out and set them up on the Carpet.
"No, no, no!" Cried Claudia "My moo cows. My baa lambs!"

Claudia's mother put on their hats and coats and gloves and scarves.
"What we need is some fresh air." She said

Isabel and Claudia and Claudia's mother walked to the park. Claudia's mother pushed Claudia's new tricycle.
When they got to the park Isabel climed onto the tricycle.
"No no no!" yelled claudia My bike my bike. Me! Me! Me!" She pushed Isabel of the tricycle. "Now Claudia, let Izzie have a turn." Said Claudia's Mother
"No Izzie! no Izzie!" Screamed Claudia.

They Watched the bell fly off and land into a bird's Nest.
"Mine! Mine! Mine!" And she pushed it [I assume the tricycle, not the bell] out of Isabel's reach. It ran down the hill. It ran faster and faster. It ran over and over.
They Watched the handle bars fly off and land in a tree.
They watched the [yes, this was seriously underlined- the makings of The-a, I guess] of and land in the bandstand and the saddle bag in a baby's pram [saddle bag?!]
They watched the Wheels come off and roll one by one, into the road, into the pond and into the park-keepers hut.
They Watched nuts and bolts and Screws and Chains Spray into the air and across the grass and dissapear forever into piles of leaves.
They ran down the hill and stood ["stared" may have been what I was trying to say here] at the battered broken new tricycle frame...

"Yours." said Isabel and went to feed the ducks.

[Blurb]

Isabel went to play with Claudia. She climed on Claudia's rocking horse. Mine! shrieked Claudia and Pushed her off.

Poor Isabel has a hard time, trying to play with her friend. But in the end, it is Isabel who gets the last laugh.

A witty and origanal picture book for the very young.

Isbn 0-340-56698
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
978034056695

The next thing I want to write about is an exercise book I had written in at about that age (possibly younger as the first story makes almost no sense, especially when compared with the two above). It has a lot of story titles, but not a lot of stories. Here are all of the titles, plus the stories, if there are any. There are also a lot of pictures in the middle of the book, which aren't related to the stories, so I won't describe them here.

Betty Who Does Not want to lean the alphebet
Betty Never Leaned the Alphebet. She said she Didn't. That was really Boring. Clara's Sister, Phobia [!!!] Made an Alphebet Chart out of Coragated Cardbord. Betty Didn't Lik it. Clara said she had to read Alphebet At School, Betty's teacher made Everyone (even Betty) To Make an Alphebet book. Alpha mind wasn't on. Potter Marcus hated it. So didn't Betty Dawan. She came from Holland School and wore clogs. She saw some leased English shoes yesterday But now All Leased [sold?] out. They Couldn't Buy it for her best piese summer song. [At about that time I had to play a piano piece called "Dance of the Wooden Shoes" and my mum wanted me to wear clogs and a dress she had made with a tulip pattern. Unfortunately we couldn't find any clogs.] Then they leased Size 12. That was Betty's size. Hopefully She had English Shoes!
The End

Hamilton's Box
Mummy Ummy Ummy Ummy ummy
Stephanie's Naughty Babies (Real story) [For some reason I had this thing about my piano teacher, Miss Stephanie, having really naughty babies. The first story I wrote when I was 3, titled "Oh No No but Where is my Baby" was entirely about these naughty babies. I don't know if she even has children.]
Hattie's great show
The Laybour [The Layabout?]
The Game [I JUST LOST THE GAME!]
Delaby (An Australian Story)
Children Brad Stephanie and Folk
Taller Kyte
Tettie Brutionationafras [it has "nation" in it!]
Liffie Style [it's hard to tell whether it's "Liffie" or "Iffie" because there's so much scribbling out]
No Neat hair
My Grandma
My Mom [so I've just suddenly turned American now, have I?]
Phobia Is Sad [GOOD]
Dear Newly Read Children,

Here are some more excerpts from a few other exercise books I've found.

Special Space [this is dated- I was 6 at the time I wrote this one]

When we were learning about Space, we thought Space was special. So we called Space 'special Space' It is so nice there.

Well Miss Jones said
Space was special
Space was Cool
Space was Shiny
Space was dark
Space was firm
[my goodness, you can make so many innuendos out of this!]

I read a book about...
space
planets
It was special!
It was cool!
It was Shiny!
It was Dark!
IT WAS FIRM!
[and in come the innuendos...]

[Also in this book is a list of languages, or should I say "languases?" The three languages listed are Malay, English and French. If this book is anything to judge by, I must have thought that those were the only languages which existed in the world. I was wrong.]

[A list of games]

No looking
Memary game
Singing
Plays
lego
musical Bobs
word game
Scruffy Millie and Bonkers [where we all pretended to be dogs]
Dancing
troble [the board game "Trouble"]
Raceing
Bogie junior
woof up woof Down
Blue's Clues
Musical Stachuses
Make UP game
Digeridoo
Pretendtoswim [the words are written really close together]
Music
1B-2B-3B-4B
tori animal Boot
Hippopotamas
Furby Phases
Hide and seeks
Netball
Pelloest [I don't know what this is meant to mean]
title your play

Last but not least, there is a page stating that the deputy principal at my primary school can "reed" all writing.

Spelling [Doesn't] Matter

I think that while spelling matters, it shouldn't count for too much. After all, there are some great books out there containing deliberate spelling/grammar errors: "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" by Mark Twain (*shudder*- I had to write an essay on that book, and books often become horrible when you have to write essays on them) comes to mind and so does the "Chaos Walking" trilogy by Patrick Ness.

In my later years in primary school we had to make our own spelling lists using words which we had spelled incorrectly in our writing. During spelling practice times, it was those words that we would work on. However I'm not sure that was the best way to learn how to spell. It alienated the good spellers who were forced to choose words like "pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis" to fill up their spelling lists. Problems then arose when the teachers asked us to put each of our spelling words into a sentence. We couldn't complain, because complaining would only invite the response, "The point was to pick words that you're going to use in your writing!"

Perhaps there should have been a greater emphasis on grammar. I remember reading some poems or stories written by people in year 6 or 7 in primary school and seeing a few that seemed to be written in Engrish. In all fairness, there might have been some people who spoke English as a second language in that bunch that I wasn't aware of, but by year 7 it shouldn't be necessary to spend so many lessons on quotation marks. We had definitely started learning about those in year 2 because I remember the teacher telling us to put a 66 at the beginning of speech and a 99 at the end. I don't think we ever really progressed past quotation marks, which made me pretty angry when a relief teacher corrected my work by putting a semicolon in place of a hyphen. I was angry not because I was being corrected (for once!) but because I had never been taught how to use a semicolon and therefore should not have been expected to know how. Semicolons, hyphens and commas, to me, come under the category "dodgy pieces of punctuation;" that is to say, their use seems to be a bit arbitrary.

Even the use of words seems a bit arbitrary. Thesaurus.com says that arbitrary can mean "whimsical, chance," with synonyms such as "erratic" and "optional," or it can mean "dictatorial" with synonyms such as "absolute" and "no ifs ands or buts."

Actually, on second thoughts, forget all I have said about schools needing to place a greater emphasis on spelling or grammar. The whole primary school framework needs to be reworked- and desperately, too. Here are some of my random comments on primary school.

Rules

Gosh, the rules. You might think that I am the "too cool for school" type when I say this, but I'm not. No, I was a conformist, I am ashamed to say. Here is a snapshot of some of the rules my primary school had.
  1. No hat, no play. This was an okay rule and would have stayed okay if it hadn't been reworked during my later years in primary school so that the hatless students had to go and sit outside the staff room during break times. (This rule was waived on school photo days, due to student resistance and staff understanding.)
  2. Library day is only one day a week and year 3s (or was it 4s?) and younger have a borrowing limit of only one book (maximum is 4 books in year 7). Outside of that time you can't borrow books. In year 3, however, I had heard that someone else had gotten permission to borrow books outside of that time and so I requested that permission too. It was granted to me for a little while, until eventually the librarian questioned me and asked if my teacher (?!) had said it was okay. I replied in the affirmative. Now I'm not quite sure what possessed me to lie, but I think it may have been fear of my teacher as she was very loud and I hated loud noises and plus she had the habit of picking on me for some reason. I think I hoped that the matter would just be dropped and I wouldn't have to confront my teacher and ask her for permission. Alas, it was not- the librarian went and checked with my teacher. I was sent to the deputy principal's office (the deputy principal was far scarier than the principal). The deputy principal then asked me to write an apology letter to my teacher for lying to her.
  3. Restricted borrowing areas depending on age levels in the library. There were some "Year 7 only" books. There weren't a great number of them, but I still wonder why they were there in the first place. The worst offender was perhaps the little white trolley thing that pre-primaries and year 1s had to borrow from. Later on in year 1 (I think), the teacher would pick some students each week to gain the privilege of borrowing from the shelves like the big kids (not a one-off privilege, a permanent one). Every week she would pick some more students. I don't remember ever being picked and I always wondered why, because I was far past reading picture books at that time.
  4. 10 minutes eating time! 40 minutes (later shortened to 30 minutes) playing time! An okay-ish rule in junior primary because I understand that a lot of little kids would just want to go and play. However, this alienated the slow eaters, even more so when the teachers had the bright idea of making all of the year 4-7s sit outside the undercover area to eat lunch. I assume that this was because they only needed one teacher to supervise the lot of us rather than different teachers to supervise individual eating areas. Outside the undercover area were the four-square courts, so when the bell rang for playing time, the junior primary would come and play four-square in your food. You might say that it wasn't necessary for everyone to simply run off when the bell went, but in a way it was- after being forced to fit into a given mould for long enough, any kind of freedom was good. The only good thing I can say about this rule is that lunchtime was longer in primary school than it is in my high school.
  5. When you have finished your work, do not say anything, just quietly go on with unfinished work. This rule wasn't applicable in every classroom, but it was in my year 4 one. It alienates those who finish everything quickly.
  6. You can only take one book for silent reading. This rule was applicable in my year 3 classroom for the second semester (I think). This alienates and bores the fast readers who can finish several books in the allotted time for silent reading. (I used to be in that category but then in year 7, I tried to feel less alienated by not reading and now I read quickly no more, no more.)
  7. There was little margin for time to arrive at school. The earliest you were really allowed to arrive was 8.25am (earlier arrivals could sit outside the staff room, but you could sort of tell that this practice was discouraged). The latest was 8.40am, when school started. In my high school, it's normal for people to arrive 20-30min before school starts.
  8. When you arrived at school you had to go straight to your class (or at least the area outside of it). This alienates those who feel better on their own. I recall one time, in year 6 I believe, I went to the eating area outside of class as the classroom wasn't opened and for some reason I felt overwhelmed by the amount of people there. I went and sought solitude beneath "The Three Trees" on our school oval. This wasn't the first time- I had done this most days for a week or so, until a teacher told me to stop because apparently I could get kidnapped by aliens flying UFOs.
  9. THE TOILET RULE. No, seriously, this was the worst rule out of all of the rules in primary school. Once, in year 6, I asked for permission to go to the toilet. The teacher replied in the affirmative but told me that I "owed him time after school." Thankfully, he forgot, and despite being a conformist, I did not remind him. I thought this was a one-off incident. Unfortunately, I was wrong. He eventually introduced a "toilet list" on the board. If you went to the toilet during class, your name was added to the list. If you went multiple times, dots were added after your name. This list made me feel anxious and, consequently, I went to the toilet even more. My name was, almost without fail, on that list, sometimes with a dot or two after my name. I believe this has done me some damage because apparently I didn't even talk about this to my parents. According to my mum, all I said was that my teacher "didn't like me going to the toilet during class." Also according to my mum, there's a serious problem when a kid can't talk to her parents about stuff like this (in fact, I'm having trouble writing this now, because I'm worried that everyone will laugh at me because I already talk about toilets too much *cough*aeroplanetoilets*cough*). Perhaps the problem was that I bowed to authority too readily and took a teacher's words as law that you shouldn't speak up against. Thinking of this incident makes me extremely angry that I was a conformist.
Education (i.e. what school is meant to give you)

I'll break this section up into subjects or bits of subjects (English is a pretty broad subject, so that one will be broken up).

English- Spelling and Grammar

Everything I learned in spelling was by myself. I don't know all of the spelling rules to this day because I spell stuff "instinctively"- that is to say, I don't think about the spelling because I've written or read the word enough times before and also I have a tendency to think in the written word. Where I don't know a word, I spell using a combination of related words that I know and trends in other words that I know. In year 7, we had to write down as many words with the "ee" sound as we could think of. It was only when our work was marked that I remembered that in year 1 or 2 or whatever they had said that e consonant e makes the "ee" sound. There was another time in year 5 when we had to sort words according to spelling rules and I felt alienated because again, I'm primarily a visual speller who writes enough to spell most words accurately without thinking about how I'm spelling them. I told the prac teacher that I didn't learn how to spell phonetically and with her air of superiority, she asked me how I learned how to spell. I couldn't answer that question because I could spell prior to entering primary school and therefore couldn't remember.

English- Comprehension

I've always sucked at reading comprehension. Even in year 3 I was fully aware of the fact- on a self-evaluation sheet, I had written "I need to work harder at comprehension." Yet nobody was there to help me.

In Year 7 I remember on one reading comprehension sheet I picked "sympathetic" (the right answer) but then my eye fell upon the word "indifferent." I didn't know what "indifferent" meant then, but it looked good, so I decided to pick that one instead. Upon learning that "sympathetic" was the right answer, I became extremely unhappy and was bracing myself for the torments from my classmates, which never came and weren't ever going to come, but ever since year 3 I was in the habit of continually expecting them. This is the thread by which I survived primary school.

Aside from that, perhaps my problem was that I have a warped view of life and a warped view of certain word usage. In my early years of primary school I had a tendency to use the word "reason" out of context a lot (well, according to some random samples I've found lying around the house such as "Are we on the reason?"). I also knew the word "phobia" and what a phobia was because I had one of loud noises, but I didn't link those two together. Today I am, like, in, like the like habit of liking to use the, like, word "like" out of, like, context, like, a lot.

Another killing question was in year 5. The teacher had written the questions up on the board from a previous standardised test without the multiple choice answers. One of the questions was, "How has the author described [character]?" My answer was, "The author has described [character] through what the other characters have said about them." Apparently, that was incorrect and all I should have written was "The author has described [character] as weird." What gets me is that my answer was correct- the question was badly worded and so I suffered for it. It is true that in a high school level answer I would have written answers to both interpretations of the question, as in, "The author has described [character] as being weird through the usage of dialogue between the other characters in the text," but I think that in a primary school, if having one half of the answer is considered to be 100% correct, the other half of the answer should also be given some credit, not simply turned down with a shake of the head as my year 5 teacher did.

Speaking of standardised tests, I tend not to do so well in standardised comprehension tests which are multiple choice or short answer. However, I can write essays, which are "extremely long answer" questions. (I'll write more on essays- and other forms of writing- later.) Perhaps it is because standardised tests can have badly worded questions, as shown above. One question I encountered on my test was about a guy called Jacob and one of the questions asked me what distinguished Jacob from the other characters. Was it the way he saw, the way he talked, the way he walked or the way he felt? The text didn't mention anything about the latter three, as far as I can remember anyway. As for the way he saw! The text gave no hint that he may physically see anything differently from the other characters. It was more about his way of thinking. I was tempted to scribble in "E- The way he thinks" and shade in that bubble. In the end I decided to read the first option using the metaphorical meaning for the word "see" and shade in that answer. There was also another question which appeared to have more than one answer and they seemed equally good.

Anyway, I'm going off the topic here. My ramblings about these tests can be saved for another day. On second thoughts, they can be saved for all of the politicians in the world.

English- Writing

In year 7 the year 6s and 7s were set a task- to write a 10-paragraph (or however long it was) essay on how our choices influence our futures. We hadn't been taught how to write an essay. We hadn't really been given any pointers on how to write an essay. The bottom line is: if you're going to make your students write an essay, teach them how to write one first.

Each paragraph had to be at least 10 lines long. We each had our own individual ways of getting around this. I lengthened out all of my contractions and wrote long words in place of short ones (e.g. "gigantic" instead of "big" or "huge"). Also, because I use running writing, I could make a word take up a lot of space. Naturally, the tenth line of most of my paragraphs contained only one word. Some people opted to use headings for each of their paragraphs which transformed into an extra line. Bonus credit, however, goes to the aviation fanatic in my class who only wrote about five words on each line as if he was writing a poem!

Maths (or "mathematics" for you fancy ones)

I think I actually learned stuff in maths. The problems I had with maths were more with my own twisted frame of mind, not with how maths was taught. If I could change anything it would be to at least show the students how many types of maths there is out there besides the ones taught in primary school and algebra (e.g. trigonometry, linear equations) so that those ahead could go in pursuit of more knowledge- that is, if school culture didn't hold them back. Oh and to teach multiplication and division of fractions in primary school. I felt very behind when I went to high school because I hadn't been taught in primary school (we touched on multiplication once, but never division).

I was fortunate, though. At my friend's school, the year 7s had to do year 4 maths because a lot of people didn't know why you had to carry the 1 in subtraction.

Science

Let's do a competition to see how many drops of water we can put on a 5c coin!

No, seriously, that's what science was in years 3, 6 and 7 (perhaps year 4 as well). In year 6 they did a mould experiment but I was away on the day they started it.

In year 4 and 5 we did more varied experiments. Like sit outside and time how long it takes for ice and chocolate to melt. I'm being serious here, but I'm glad to say that wasn't the most exciting one we had to do. We had our fair share of balloon rockets (which I was fine with because the balloons didn't have to be blown up too big) and gliders (it was in this lesson where I made a stupid mistake because I was going to say one thing and out of my mouth came another, making me feel extremely dumb). Aside from the aviation ones, we had to build bridges and towers out of paper straws too.

Social Studies

This was never really taught as a separate subject in upper primary. Not that I can remember, anyway.

Technology and Enterprise

Let's see how much stuff we can make out of cardboard boxes and other recycled materials! Through T+E, I quickly learned the shortcomings of cardboard. I was never an artsy-project type of person, so I didn't like T+E that much, but it was bearable until the balloon car experiment.

When you're powering a model car with balloons, of course you're going to want to make it as big as possible so that your car has more air to power it. The bigger a balloon gets, the more likely it is that it will pop. The bigger a balloon is when it pops, the louder the noise it makes. I, a ligyrophobe, made all of these calculations at lightning-fast speed. T+E for the next week or so was agony. I was given solace on the day when all of the cars had to be tested in a competition. I got sent to a year 4/5 class where I had to explain to the deputy principal (who was taking that class) a bunch of kids two or three years younger than me that I had been sent to that classroom because of my fear of loud noises such as balloons popping.

This has been quite a long post and my computer slows down every time I inadvertently highlight something in it, but unfortunately I still have far more to say about primary school. If you are actually interested in this stuff, then stay tuned for part 2.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Another reason why The Journey: Live Another Day won't get finished on time

I suck at 4-part vocal style writing. Majorly.

I'm okay at writing perfect and plagal cadences (a cadence is just two chords pretty much). The difficulty comes in writing choral music (and other cadences which I haven't learnt about).

I'm going to have to learn a truckload more before I can finish this song. Oh well, there's nothing stopping me from taking the finished parts on the plane with me in 78 days. The finished parts are well over 2 minutes long, combined. So far what I've done can be broken up into four parts:
  1. Introduction- 54 bars long, or 1 min 38 seconds
  2. Walking down the 737 aisle- 20 bars long, or 54 seconds
  3. Carolyn and Lucy- 8 bars long, or 32 seconds (it's slower than the other two sections)
  4. The Aeroplane Song- 3 bars long, or 11 seconds
That adds up to a total of 3 minutes and 15 seconds, if I added correctly.

Now for a little more info on what each of the sections are about- except for the introduction, because I don't really know what it's about either.

I've already done a post about "Walking down the 737 aisle." Obviously, it's about me walking down the aisle on the Boeing 737 on the way home.

The "Carolyn and Lucy" part is about a couple of flight attendants living in my imaginary world (both loosely based off real flight attendants). When I was nervous about my flight home, I imagined Carolyn and Lucy calming me down and I felt better. This section has a soprano solo (Carolyn) and an alto solo (Lucy), as does the next section, "The Aeroplane Song."

I've imagined that section of the song to go something like:
(Kayleuetski):
You sang to me to calm me down,
And your words were...
(Carolyn and Lucy):
Aeroplane, flying high,
Aeroplane, in the sky
I've also imagined another part of the "story." This part is a little weird since it involves a talking (or to be exact, singing) aeroplane toilet. I guess that bit will just have to be sung by a human, probably a male voice.
(Choir)
... and it said to you...
(Boeing 737 toilet)
I can take away your fear,
But you will have to flush me first...
Yes, I know, I imagine the weirdest of things.

All the same, that's what imagination's for.

Monday, January 24, 2011

My response to "You, My Friend, Have Just Crossed The Line."

I had to go the doctor's today over my ears feeling weird. While waiting, I wrote some random stuff which I guess could be a response to Beth's blog post "You, My Friend, Have Just Crossed The Line." Here it is. Be aware that I can be rather erratic when I write in my diary because I write stuff as it happens or as the thoughts come to me, not in one chunk at the end of the day. Anything in square brackets are comments which I've added while typing this up.
Why do I shudder at the word "injection?" Is it because I dislike pain or am I truly afraid?

I believe I got my fear of needles because it felt like everyone had decided that I was afraid. Now I am denying it because it feels like I'm being attention-seeking or dramatic by having too many fears and phobias.

In short- I think society is probably to blame, but I put the blame on myself. I put a lot of blame on myself. My "circle of control" is probably not that big but I often imagine it as being bigger.

In any case, I'm not even sure if I need to have a blood test/injection/whatever, so there is even less point to panicking at this moment.

Kuyarue. [This is Mimaiyan- my made up language- for "fear not."]

Damn it, why do I have to have all of the phobias and whatnot? If it's not my fault, then whose is it? If it's nobody's fault, then what, exactly, has given me countless fears?

Why are people so cruel to the fearful? We [when I say this I mean sufferers of anxiety disorders, including myself] have enough on our plates to deal with, so why do people add extra unwanted rubbish?

It is rarely the strong who Society subjects to such treatment. Instead it is the ones who need support who are beaten down.

Society has its mercy, however, which it shows to the physically ill. What about the mentally ill? According to normal people, our struggles are funny. [I'm generalising, of course.] OCD is made fun of and people with other anxiety disorders are "scaredy-cats." I for one am not feline in appearance. I doubt any of us have that many cat-like features.

I think Society shows its merciful side to the physically ill because it "wasn't their choice," as if the phobic choose to be phobic.

Society is a cruel place indeed. Especially to those who needs its kindness.

***

On second thoughts, perhaps Society doesn't even show mercy to the physically ill or disabled. The Hungry Jacks ad states that "you need two hands to understand." What about the one-handed or no-handed ones who walk among us? [Or what if you have two hands but one doesn't work?]
By the way- I did not end up getting an injection. I had to have the earwax in my ears syringed out but that's kind of different.

Beth, if you are reading this right now, I would also like to add that the name of the nurse who syringed out the earwax in my ears was Sarah.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Another excerpt

Another excerpt from The Journey: Live Another Day- this time from the beginning of the piece. This section isn't completed yet. I'm not entirely sure what, exactly, was this section meant to be about in the first place, though. Whatever, it's pretty. (In my opinion.) Do be aware that the music in this excerpt is pretty quiet, like the last one.

Instruments and Singers (in score order):

Flute (solo)
Harp
Soprano
Alto
Tenor
Bass
Violin I
Violin II
Viola
Cello
Double Bass

I think that perhaps I should change the string parts. At the moment they're almost entirely the same as the singers' parts.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Walking down the 737 aisle

Here is an excerpt from The Journey: Live Another Day. It's me walking down the aisle to the aeroplane toilet on the Boeing 737.



My cousin took that photo of the flush button some time back. (Funny how when I went on a plane four years ago I didn't notice that the toilet lid was closed in the picture. Now I know to close the lid- the hard way.)

The reason it's saved as a video is because there doesn't seem to be a way to upload just sound files on Blogspot, but then again I'm not really looking too hard. If I can find a way to suggest stuff to the people who make Blogspot then I'm going to suggest it as well as suggesting a "countdown" widget.

Making the video was unbelievably messy. For starters, Sibelius can either export files as midi or wav. Wav. files are supported by Windows Movie Maker (I think) but they take up loads of memory. I tried using a midi to mp3 converter on the Internet but the sound quality got worse, so I searched around and found that iTunes can convert wav files to mp3 files. It took me ages to figure out how.

Bleh. Anyway, enjoy.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Random thoughts on my old phobia

Society appears to have taught me that fear is something to be scorned. And so I have scorned fear, including that within myself. Not helpful.

My other random thought is that The Journey: Live Another Day probably won't be finished by Music Tour at the rate I'm working on it. I just don't have any kind of creative spark to write music at the moment and I procrastinate too much. Bleh.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Composing

(Warning: music nerd blog entry up ahead!)

I'm currently composing a piece about my old phobia and how I conquered it (well, most of it, anyway). The title isn't set. It's gone between Phobia, Phobia- Journey Another Day and now I'm considering changing it to The Journey: Live Another Day. I'd also written a few stanzas of a poem to help with musical ideas.

I scrapped the choral-centred intro that I had before and chucked in a harp and a flute to make it more instrumental-centred. The piece now starts with a flute solo, accompanied by the harp. Later on the string section (violin 1, violin 2, viola, cello, double bass) and the choir join in, while the flute drops out. Sopranos and violin 1s have the melody, as they usually do.

The melody is perhaps better suited towards the clarinet's range, but I wanted a flute to make for a more solemn tone. The intro is about how having a phobia has affected me and my desperation to conquer it. The first stanza of my aforementioned poem is:

Child, awaken-
you must go on
and to do so
your slumber must cease.
I have to eat now, but I'll get back to composing afterwards. I'm hoping to be able to listen to the completed piece on my flights to Europe, especially if my phobia tries to return to haunt me.