Sir and Miss Carpe Diem

My brilliant Year 12 teachers, and some others. Our High School Year books and My She Devil/foe come Deputy Principal. The red dot is to protect said she devils privacy.

My brilliant Year 12 teachers, and some others. Our High School Year books and My She Devil/foe come Deputy Principal. The red dot is to protect said she devils privacy.

I ran into one of my High School teachers the other day. Well actually I went and seen her. She’s my Facebook friend.

Yup.

I have my High School teacher as my Facebook friend.

Slightly nerdy? Yes. Do I care? No.

Because, in the same way I sigh and reminisce of over my hometown, I do the same of my High School.

I loved it.

Yeah it was stressful and there were a lot of jerky teachers, but the good teachers  and the good times far outnumbered the bad.

I never knew what I wanted to be in High School. And I was very conscious, from very early, that I was on to a good thing there.

You knew when you started, you knew when you knocked off. There was a very clear plan of everything you had to do, every hour, of every, single day.

I’m not sure if it’s a Virgo thing, or just a me thing. But I loved that. Give me a list and I’m happy. The thought of heading into the “real world” and the uncertainty of it all, was quite terrifying. So I made the most of my High School years.

I sewed by wild oats. Good and proper. Crazy girl. But that was only on weekends. Mostly.

Anyway, High School.

If you’ve read any of my previous posts my senior subject selection will come as no surprise.

I adored English and respected my English teacher. He was pretty influential, but still fun and a bit of a rat outside of school so you could relate to him.

Maths I took out of pure obligation. Hated it. Teacher was a tool. I failed. He got drunk at my Grad and told my mother I never tried. Tosser. The end.

Geography. Well I love outside stuff, and statistics. And we had a camp. Teacher wasn’t too bad, bit rousy and did totally overshoot the mark by having a mini intervention with me over a totally misjudged “problem” I was going through. Un. Com. Fortable.

IT. This was before “The Internet” was really a big deal, so we spent a lot of time writing programs, making cartoon movies featuring a wolf that would do this weird hip thrust move which we all found hilarious, and playing solitaire. Teacher was ok.

Home Economics. Loved it! This was a cooking class, and trust me I needed it. I was a shocking cook. Much better now. Loved my Home Ec Teacher, she’s the one I went and seen! I have my killer white sauce and onion dicing technique to thank her for. And my soup eating skills. Spoon to the edge.

Art. No surprises here that I loved Art. My favourite day was when we had a double. 80 minutes of paint fumey bliss. And my Art teacher, she was a gem. One in a million. The world is a less colourful place since she was welcomed through heavens gates. But her legacy lives on.

 Teachers can make or break your schooling years.

I count myself incredibly lucky to have always had such amazing, influential teachers, whom I got along with so well.

Mostly.

Oh I got in strife plenty of times, always deserved. But that’s where respect comes in.

And there were some crazies. Real crazies. But they just added entertainment to the day.

G2 had her High School tour the other day, very exciting times for 2015! And the teachers all knew her as G1’s little sister (big shoes to fill, oh I’ve been there. “Why aren’t you good at long jump, your sisters are?”. Piss. Off).

The teachers G1 loves, I really like them too! I can see the positive effect it is having on her High School years, and will watch with interest which ones G2 bonds with.

So here’s to the teachers, and to my teachers, thankyou for all you did for me, I’ll never forget it.

Except my 11-12 deputy Principal. You can go, well,,,,,,,,,,I’d best be careful what I say, she’s likely to fly through my window and start attacking me.

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