Interviews

I am finally coming to end of Year 11. This is it, the end of compulsory school and that sounds FABULOUS. Legally, if I wanted to, I could leave school for good now, go and find a job, or get an apprenticeship. I could do whatever I want. Except...I'm not...

Instead, I am going to sixth form at my current school. I have only been there five years, so as far as I am concerned two more years is nothing. I can hear you say "ONLY five years?! That is ages!". I realise it sounds a bit contradictory but compared to people who have been at the school since nursery, my measly five years seems like a week to them.

I promise this post relates to the title, it does, honest. It is entitled 'Interviews' because, last week I had my scholarship application for Sixth Form interview with the Head and Deputy Head at my school. I admit, I probably should have done more preparation for it, but I had just finished my mock exams and really was not in the mood to prepare questions. So, all the way to school on the bus that morning, I got my friends to think of as many interview questions as possible and ask me them. After half and hour of constant grilling from my friends, I felt I had the perfect answers to every possible question the head and deputy head could ask me. When I say "perfect answers", what I mean is, I would end up lying through my teeth if I wanted to make a good impression... Now, I know that sounds awful, but it is true, of course all the answers were based on truth, only I had modified the truth to make it sound more impressive by saying it in a certain way.

So, the time is 11.55am. I am sitting on the white leather chairs outside the heads office, waiting to be called in. I felt mentally prepared, I had the answers to every possible question me and my friends could think of and I was sitting down, meaning I couldn't faint. Only, there was one problem, I was unbelievably nervous. I tried to calm myslef down, but nothing was working. Finally, after five minutes of hyperventilating, the head came out and called me in. I sat down on the chair, and almost immediately, I forgot EVERY question I had prepared answers to. The head and deputy tried their best to say everything was fine, but of course, nothing was working. So, the first question came - "Maia. I know you are quite sporty..." WAIT, WHAT?! Sporty? Me? Then I thought, does she think I am somebody else? Maybe I got my time wrong and am not supposed to be here... The head carried on "...what do you think of the 2012 olympics being held in London?" For the life of me I cannot remember what I said. I am hoping it was not my real opinion, because to be honest, I couldn't give a monkeys about it...

As the interview progressed, I started to relax, it then became clear to me that not one of the questions I had prepared was being asked... But somehow, I was answering them. I don't know how, but I did. There was an odd moment about half way through the interview, where I think I got a little too relaxed and attacked the piece of fluff floating in the air in front of me...

Each interview is meant to last 15 minutes. Considering I was in there for 35, I think it went quite well. The best part is, I don't think I lied once, just trying to work out now, whether that is a good thing...

A Levels - Advanced levels in difficult decisions?

It all comes down to this. Eleven years of homework, exams and trying to escape detentions was difficult enough. Oddly, though, the most difficult decision of all is choosing A Levels. There are so many things to consider, it is not just a case of, "Ooh, that sounds fun, i'll do that". No. You have to consider everything, and when I say everything, I mean everything. Next month I am choosing my A Levels, and although I have not yet discovered the consequences in hindsight, I have a pretty good idea of what will happen if I don't choose wisely. I currently have my heart set on becoming an engineer, but what happens when halfway through Year 12, I decide I want to be a marine biologist? The answer is: I cannot be a marine biologist.

That is my dilemma, am I sure I want to be an engineer? Once I have chosen I cannot turn back. The other thing to consider is subjects, obviously if you want to be an engineer, you do not then do English, Religious Studies and Art. "Choosing subjects, not a problem then?" I hear you cry. Wrong. Not only do you have to think about the subjects themselves, you also have to think about combinations, back-up subjects and what universities look for - that is, if you want to go to university. There we go again, another big decision that once again boils down to what A Levels you take. Teachers and parents say, "Try to cover all the bases for universities", but surely, different universities look for different things? If you covered all the subject bases for all the universities looked for at A Level and which schools did what, where in the country. You would be considering 4,000 sixth forms, 5,000 colleges and be taking 5 million subjects at A Level. Realistically, covering all the bases at A Level is simply not feasible.

Maybe I am just overreacting. Maybe it is a lot simpler than I thought. Maybe I need to consider the benefits and disadvantages of each subject, look briefly at the combinations which are good and go with the flow. It sounds way to straight forward to be true though, but I will give it a go, it's only my whole life...

Germany

You will have to excuse some of my spelling in theis post because I am using a German keyboard (hence the title), so "Y's" might end up as "Z's" and vice versa.

 I am in Germany at the moment and I have been quite homesick, well I was for the last couple of days... I hear everyone going "Awwwhhh" and if not - rude. Anyway, we stayed in this crummy hotel that had probably seen better days. So, the first obstacle me and my roomate had to overcome were the lifts. To put it bluntly when the lift doors opened, if you blinked, you missed them, and the trend continues until you final make a sprinting start into the lift and press the button for your floor,  then sprint out of the lift on your floor...

The next obstacle was the room keys. Not much of an obstacle you may think but you would be surprised. They just did not want to work, at all, ever. It was so frustrating, I don't think I managed to open the door once by myself! First you try it the right way up, nothing happens. Keep trying. Still nothing happens. Then you get desperate. Back to front, upside down, upside down and back to front and finally sideways... None of these ever worked. Eventually we got fed up and had our room keys reactivated and then they worked on maybe the fifth of sixth go,  instead of the thirteen hundreth go.

Next were the rooms. Probably the most frustrating part of all of this fiasco...When you finally got into the room you could only open the door halfway because the door crashed into the bed as soon as you opened the door and therefore have to breathe in and slide through the gap, only to walk into a wall! Yes, the room was really that small. Going to bed was a pain, I had to climb down into bed from the end cos there wasn't enough room down the side of the bed for a skinny size 6 woman, never mind me! Now, I do not have a big head, but seriously, talk about cutbacks, the pillows were tiny, lumpy and extremely comfortable and to top it off the bed was as hard as a rock.

Somehow, I have a feeling these were some of the causes of my homesickness... I am now in my penfriends house and am sleeping like a baby. Though I do miss home... Right that is it now, hotel complaining over. As the German's would say, Danke Schön und Tschüss!