Volume 1 (1999/2000)
Issue
1 (March 1999)
Issue
2 (Nov. 1999)
Issue 3 (Dec. 1999)
Issue 4 (Feb. 2000)
Issue 5 (March 2000)
Issue 6 (April 2000)
Issue
7 (May 2000)
Volume 2 (2000/2001)
Issue 1 (Sept. 2000)
Issue 2 (Oct. 2000)
Issue 3 (Jan. 2001)
Issue 4 (March 2001)
Issue 5 (April 2001)
Issue 6 (May 2001)
Volume 3 (2001)
Issue 1 (Sept. 2001)
Issue 2 (Nov. 2001)
Categories
Sport: 1
2 3
Lifestyles: 1 2
3
Commentary: 1 2
3
Review: 1 2
3
Writing: 1 2
3
Event: 1 2
3
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Living
with the Leaving
Louise Neville
St. Mary's Secondary School, Mallow
Living for the Leaving. Living for leaving. In fact the only reason I
am still living is the thought of leaving. Leaving this small town. Leaving
a ram-shackled building the Department of Education call a school. Leaving
the nagging of parents. Leaving my brothers. Leaving.
For now I have to be content with living for the Leaving Cert. What a
truly wondrous experience this is turning out to be. Each teacher seems
to forget about the other six teachers and so this results in several
hours of homework each night. Career guidance teachers try to force you
to pick out a career that you will have to stick to for a good portion
of your life while, you can't even decide what to wear on Saturday night!
Too much homework. Too much study. Too much time is spent complaining.
It's a vicious circle.
Living for leaving my teenage years, keeps me struggling on. No more
fake I.D.'s. No more blushing every time you see that fantastically gorgeous
guy. No more tears when you see him holding hands with his equally gorgeous
girlfriend. No more desperately trying to shorten your school skirt so
maybe some guy will notice you. No more yelling at your mom. No more being
yelled at by your dad. No more "your old enough to know better"
when you hit your brother. No more "your still a child" when
you want to go out wearing something resembling Barbie's dress. No more
first kisses. No more first fags. No more senseless fun with friends.
No more relentless complaining. No more being a teenager.
Living with leaving my friends and family is quite an odd feeling. This
time next year I will be on the phone to my friend crying that the love
of my life has run off with my roommate. Will I be pleading with my mother
to send me money for a bag of chips? Will I be alone in a squalid flat
with only the mice and a sleazy landlord for company? I will have left
a restrictive yet familiar, complex, yet cosy family life? I will have
new friends, old friends, best friends and boyfriends. Will I be leaving
behind friendships? I hope not.
Then there's leaving behind boyfriends. Whether it's the guy next door
who you have watched grow up or an old flame, can I live with leaving
them? Oh yes! Leaving behind heartache and worry. Leaving behind the pounding
heart as you finally pluck up the courage to ask him out, and leaving
behind the agony as he tells you he's fancied your best friend for months.
So, every day we are all living with the Leaving. Living with the Leaving.
Living with all of its challenges. Living with its highs and lows. Living
with the strange sense of comfort that it provides. Living with friends,
family, and home. Next year I'll be living with leaving. Leaving all things
familiar. Leaving an old life. Living for my new life. I'll be living
for life itself! Won't that be scary?
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