I found the aural easy enough, having spent three weeks of last summer speaking French at a language course, (which was pretty hellish, no matter what the benefit I wouldn’t recommend ELC to anyone) I was quite used to hearing the language. How did everyone else find it? How was the ordinary level paper? A few friends of mine are still at school awaiting their history exam. Oh how I would hate to be them right now, I’m basically drained and appreciate having the half day before biology tomorrow.

Eight exams down, two to go. Can’t you almost taste the freedom? It’s so close! After economics next Wednesday I will have absolutely no idea what to do with myself, that feeling will last for about ten minutes. Then all of those subdued plans will come into action to hopefully make for the best summer since Bryan Adam’s in 69. Ah yes. I have a ‘list’ you see, and everything I couldn’t do these past few months thanks to the leaving cert went on the list, I relish the thought of ticking them off one by one.

What are everyone else’s plans for this sure to be fantastic summer? I bet half the country is going to Oxegen again, the line-up sure is excellent. I’m off to Glastonbury myself in two weeks, and simply CANNOT WAIT. Let the good times roll

What an absolute disgrace of a language/ subject- one which, as of yesterday, I shall never be speaking again. Ever.
I still have to sit the written exam, but there’s no reason why I have to speak it again. Ever. I’m never going to France or any French speaking countries in the future. Ever. On principle.
I’ve just spent the last 6 years learning it to forget it, basically.
As far as I’m concerned, France can just go burn and die, and take its hideous language with it. When I’m the leader of the world, I’ll exterminate all francophone country-dwellers. Mark my words.

So yeah then, my French Oral.
Well, it’s all been a bit of a mess and I’m afraid, to paint the full picture, I’m going to have to give a bit of background information.
I think I may have some major bad karma built up, because this week has all been one big stroke of massively unfortunate luck!
On Friday evening of last week, I started feeling pretty horribly sick and, to cut a long story short, was brought to hospital on Saturday where I spent three delightfully drug-filled days.
Now, much as I’d like to see myself in a hospital in the future, it’s not as a patient. Becoming a doctor would be quite delightful, grimacing in an uncomfortable bed just days before my French oral, well, it’s not the dream.
I had my “Shortcuts to Success- The French Oral” book clutched to my chest when I was in there, but it was pretty hard- nay, impossible- to get anything revised during my lovely little trip there.
I’m grand now like, but very tired. Very cranky. I’ve been better.

My French Oral was meant to be on Wednesday, but all things considered, I wasn’t bet into the idea of trudging into school and smiling idiotically at an examiner at that stage. I’m all for dishing out lots of ridiculous clichés and idioms through the medium of French, but not when I was feeling so damn sorry for myself. The school took this all into account, obviously.
It was a struggle to change out of pyjamas, never mind flashing the examiner my winning smile. Or just plain flashing her- anything for an A.

My oral was rescheduled until Friday, i.e., yesterday, which was a relief of sorts, but I still wasn’t exactly in the full of my health, eagerly anticipating it.
Because I missed my slot on Wednesday, I had to go follow the examiner on her tour of Waterford, so on Friday I had to go to another school to do it. Bear in mind, I’m not from Waterford- I don’t know where stuff is. At all.
The school in question, renowned for its high pregnancy rates and slight skanger-element, was difficult enough to find, let me tell you. I left my house an hour in advance, hoping to reach it at 12.15, 15 minutes before my oral, but found myself shouting at my father to accelerate at 12.25 when we weren’t even near the school.
I eventually got there, choked down a bottle of rescue remedy and found where I needed to go. I wasn’t particularly worked up, but I suppose the nerves were hitting a bit at this stage. There I was, in a scary different school, in my foreign uniform with nothing but a folder of French notes for protection.
I met the deputy principal of said school, a delightful lady, and she told me not to worry- the examiner was a fox. Actually, she said she was nice or something, but the examiner WAS a fox. A fox being a largely good thing, please note. So I met the examiner in question and realised, well, she was actually a lovely woman. She put me totally at ease, made me feel comfortable and made me forget about the pregnant, knife wielding masses of girls probably looking at me from every direction. She’d obviously been told I wasn’t well and was lovely and considerate! I had to sign about 10million different roles (Slight hyperbole possible) but soon enough we were on our way.
She was dead keen on all the basics, something which I did find a little off putting when I tried to introduce topics like “La Drogue” and the Health System, but which I had been warned about by others who had been examined by her. I slipped the subjunctive in just twice – “Il faut que j’aie presque 600 points” and “Il faut que je fasse la cuisine” when asked what I do to help around the house (A slight lie- I don’t cook!). I didn’t even get to use my delightful “IL FAUT QUE LE GOUVERNEMT PRENNE DES MESURES POUR AMELIORER LA SITUATION AVANT QU’IL SOIT TROP TARD” line which I love enough to capitalise.
We spent ages talking about Medicine, her grinning at me, me sitting there wishing I’d done more preparation. I decided, being an honourable student and all, I’d accentuate my illness like nobody’s business and tell her I was tired and weak, barely able to get out of bed. Granted I was actually quite tired and weak, but I wasn’t “tres tres TRES faible” and in quite as much pain as I decided to let on. Meh, as I said, anything for pity and hopefully, an A.
She was really interested in Irish as well, for some reason, which sucked majorly. How cruel is it to focus in on Irish in a French oral, even though I showed nothing but reluctance to speak about it? Obviously I switched “car” for “mar” once or twice there, losing my beloved French accent and making my words sound like they’d been coughed up by a cat.
I had a document prepared on Barack Obama, which I decided to NOT bring in with me for fear of the difficult questions I’d be asked. Meh times infinity.

Overall, I’m glad it’s over. But to be honest, it was a disgrace of an exam. I’m definitely going to have to work on my written section now to so much as match my grade from last year! I can’t believe it had to be so crap, but at least my little streak of poor health didn’t fall at the beginning of June!
Now it’s Easter, so I’ve two weeks to wallow around the house in self pity.
I just spent the last 4 hours playing soccer, eating ice-cream and going for a long stroll with my friend though, so looks like I’m not too bad! Meh.

I HATE being sick.

How did everyone else get on? Any great stories? Go on then, comment away.

In recent weeks and months, I’ve learned what “consternation”, “virtuoso” and “wanton” mean, but I can safely say nothing shall ever trump today’s word of the day:

“spoonerism \SPOO-nuh-riz-uhm\, noun:
The transposition of usually initial sounds in a pair of words.
For example,
We all know what it is to have a half-warmed fish ["half-formed wish"] inside us.
Let me sew you to your sheet ["show you to your seat"].
A well-boiled icicle ["well-oiled bicycle"].”

My day’s just been made.
I had a migraine like no other early, and I’ve been asleep all afternoon on strong strong drugs (legal ones of course, to kill the little man inside my head trying to hammer its way out), but the hazy, painful cloud seems to have lifted on checking my emails and finding that! Spoonerism! I wonder if I’ll be able to slip that into everyday conversation once or twice? Hmm, definitely.

In other news, my Irish Oral’s on Thursday.
I’m not all that excited, unsurprisingly. We met with our examiner earlier- she looked stern but seems alright! She’s probably not all too stern at all to be honest; it’s more about the fact that I’m scared or something.
I’m sure I’ll do fine, I’m good at the old spoken Irish I guess.
There are a few questions I’m definitely anticipating, apart from the obvious family-future-hobbies ones, like “Why are you a GIRL in an all boy’s school?”, “Why do you come to school in Waterford if you live in a total different town/ county/ province?” and  the likes, so I’ve them prepared pretty well. I’m sure I’ll get asked something absolutely disgusting now, just to throw me off- something about a cult or something,
Sigh.
I’ll update on how it goes in any case.

Apart from that, I haven’t much Leaving Cert-related news, so I’m off to watch Scrubs. Or study. Or satisfy my newfound Diet Coke addiction.
*shrugs*- so many options.

If you’re here reading the blog, feel free to leave a comment about how your orals are going! Lots of funny stories can come out of them- in my French one last year I was asked about Bertie Ahern- not his policies or the work he did as Taoiseach, no no, nothing like that- I was asked about his makeup.
“Sure Bertie spends a lot of money on makeup, doesn’t he?” I will never forget that evil witch of an examiner.