Trains, mathematics, and Raven's now a Niffler

If you divide my life into two sections, real and fannish, then on the one hand I have had a good day, and on the other, an absolutely dire day.

Let's begin at the beginning, and I did not begin well. My mother has suffered from neck pain over the last few days, and didn't want to go to work today. I had to get the train into Crosby. I got up and found I'd overslept and missed the train, so ran around desperately trying to catch the next one, and I thought I would - I ran on the station platform and just brushed the closing doors with the tips of my fingers - and the train left without me. I wasn't even awake yet, I hadn't bought a ticket, everything was going wrong, and I had one of those moments where you just want to give up and cry. The feeling took a few moments to pass, so I bought a return ticket in a daze and watched as the train to Southport went past. I later found that cucharita was on this train, and saw me standing on the platform. I wish I'd seen, and waved.

I got the train at ten past eight and reached Crosby at twenty-five past. Oddly enough, I wasn't late to school but I did have to walk through Crosby in the pouring rain and my hood wouldn't stay up and I never carry an umbrella, so I got drenched. I reached school five minutes before registration, slipped into my chair and was in time to hear the next piece of bad news.

In our common room, we have a set of shelves with nice little dividers to keep them in order. On the first day, most people claimed shelves by just putting their books on them. I have a nice shelf, next to Becca, not so high I can't reach it and lit by the daylight from the window, so all was well with the world. Now, for some unknown reason, each shelf has been numbered so we can all use them in alphabetical order. Everyone has to move. I don't want to move. I don't want to have to hand over my shelf to someone else. And to make things even worse, there are seventy people in the year and only sixty-five shelves. Because of its being in alphabetical order, I don't get a shelf at all. Apparently I'm supposed to use the Upper Sixth common room instead. Fuck that. This is not right. They can't throw me off my shelf that I'd been comfortably using without any problems for a week, and then say there's nowhere else for me to go!

So. Yes. I went off to my first lesson (Politics) in a very bad mood indeed. The lesson did not improve it, because even though it was one of the ones by Mr Evans, and he is a good teacher, I discovered half the class are raging Conservatives. I also discovered that Mr Evans' claim to fame is stepping on David Blunkett's dog, but that's nothing to do with it. I was still feeling pissed off at the entire world. I was pissed off at the entire world in Psychology, which is not one of A-levels but rather one of the school's "Extension studies" designed to make us all well-rounded people but merely take away our free periods and bore us to death.

And talking of taking away free periods, I had to go to Maths today. I hate Maths. I wanted to leave it behind forever. But no, anyone who's doing A-level science without Maths has to give up a lunchtime for it, and mine was today. So, with Becca and Bev, I went to lunch at twelve so we could go to Maths at second lunch. When second lunch rolled around, we discovered that the notice we'd been given had had the wrong times on it, and we'd actually missed the lesson and Mrs Jordan was after our blood. We did go and try to apologise to her, but she wasn't around and Mr Wilson (the boring Geordie) wanted to know later on why we didn't go. I had to help explain we didn't know we had to go and just... blah.

I think that after that, things wouldn't have been so bad; I didn't have to go to Biology today, which is always good, and I had English, in which I was asked to read out loud, which I do like doing, and it was Brave New World, which I also like. I walked to the station with Becca without incident. But when I was there on the station platform, I saw the train I usually get at twenty-seven minutes past four go flying past the station without even slowing down, leaving in its wake a lot of electrical sparkage and confused people. I had to wait for the next train. They come every fifteen minutes, but the journey itself is fifteen minutes, so that effectively doubled my time taken getting home. They broadcast announcements every few minutes after that, saying the next train is heavily congested, and when it finally arrived... well. I lurked in a corner and tried not to breathe and in so doing get crushed.

My mother was around, and picked me up, and I got home, told her this tale of woe, and my grandmother thought it was hilarious. I still have a lingering feeling she thinks I'm about three, and they're all just humouring me in letting me go to school.

That, then, was my real life today. In fandom terms, it hasn't been so bad. I got six or seven reviews for Green Fingers, including ( this little gem )

- and I had an email from Heidi at Fiction Alley Park. A couple of weeks ago, I applied to be a Niffler. I never told anyone because I didn't think I'd be accepted, but I have been! I am now officially a Niffler - Sharing Shiny Things With The Fandom - and will appreciate any recommendations anyone throws my way. Briefly, what the Nifflers do is read underappreciated HP fics on FAP and elsewhere, and reccommend ("Niffle") them. They're named after the creatures in Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them that can find gold in hidden places.

As part of my Niffler's profile, I need to provide a list of words others have used to describe me. As there is a very similar meme going round LJ at the moment, I'd appreciate it if you'd help me out... please? Thank you.

That's all.