Cohen the Barbarian

Yet another day of trigonal planar molecular bonding. I'm looking forward to that day in the distant future where I have an inkling of understanding of this stuff. This was followed by more not-understanding, although I stand by the opinion that biology is the least scientific science and therefore the hardest to remember (understanding doesn't even come into it). This experiment was different from most. I was given three test tubes full of colourless liquid and labelled X, Y and Z. I was then informed that the three of them were sucrose, sucrase and distilled water, but it was my job to find out which, using only standard lab equipment, a thirty-seven-degree water bath and Benedict's. I stared into space for twenty minutes, thinking about it. You see, all these years, through thirds and Upper Four and GCSE, they lied to us. They said you could use Benedict's to test for sugar. You can't. You can use it to test for reducing sugars. Of which sucrose is not one. I pointed out that lower down the school, we did experiments testing sucrose with Benedict's, and was gently informed that the pen is mightier than the sword, and it's all a matter of the labels on the bottle.

So I sat and stared and thought about it. All about me, others were jumping and down and shouting "Aha!" Steph particularly has no tact, jumping up and down like a dervish and being generally one-who-has-had-revelations. I hadn't had revelations. It dawned in my mind very slowly as a set of separate steps, but I am proud that I figured it out without any outside help. In primary school, I could never do this stuff, and it's nice to know I can do it now in sixth form when it really matters.

Because the solution appealed to me in its simplicity, it is reproduced in full. I had to mix the three test-tubes up in all possible combinations. There were less of these than you might have thought - X + Y, X + Z and Y + Z. Then, I put them all in the water bath for a bit, added Benedict's and boiled them all. X + Y turned orange. I eliminated Z as being distilled water. Then I took fresh samples of X and Y and boiled them. X was then mixed with unboiled Y and vice versa, and put in the water bath again. Two minutes later, more boiling. Boiled X and Y turned orange, proving X is sucrose and Y is sucrase.

I totally understand if you skipped that last paragraph. It was boring. I was just childishily proud of myself for figuring the damn thing out.

Lunch featured prawns, which is the best thing I can think to say about. It was followed by English, which was actually fun because it involved my beginning to write for this coursework. I love writing. Have I ever mentioned that?

Friday is the only day upon which I have a free. I tried to do some Chemistry - molecular shapes, natch - while Becca and Nicola did... stuff. While we were sitting in the common room, people came in. People being Mrs Bush and Mrs Stubbs and the candidates for the post of headmistress/master. They did ask us if our common room was tidy, but then decided to go for the "warts-and-all" approach. I approved. The successful candidate will have worse to cope with than messy common rooms, after all. She or he will take up the position when we're in Upper Sixth. She/he will have to be able to deal with seventy cocky, arrogant teenage girls with seven years' more experience of Merchants' and a general knowledge of how things are done. I freely number myself among them, by the way. Becca has been heard to wish the new head is male and young, "so we can intimidate him." That doesn't look like being the case, judging from today. The two candidates we saw are old and female and have a decidedly equine air about them. They came in just as Becca and Nicola were engaged in throwing a paper aeroplane at the window to try and hit the thirds below - it had "Air Donan 2000" on the side in black pen, along with a perfectly drawn caricature of Mr Donan in all his glory. We're so grown up.

On the way home, Becca and I talked about various things. For two people who are supposedly (best) friends and walk in the same direction every day, it's weird how seldom we walk home together. The main topic of conversation was, in a word, Gemma. I have mentioned her before as loudmouthed new girl, and that stands, only it's worse, as no-one seems to like her, Becca particularly. She (Gemma) wants to do something for her birthday, which is all well and good; therefore, she has given out laminated invitations to sundry people. The "something" involves a meal at a restaurant, then "party at DA CLUBS!"

Urgh. Becca doesn't want to go because a) she doesn't like Gemma, b) she doesn't want to have to pay for it all, and touchingly, c) I'm not invited. The reasons for my not being invited are vague. Gemma's been surreptitiously handing out these little laminated things so I won't see them. Bev asked her why I'm not invited, and then came and told me (no, I didn't ask her to). It's so "there won't be arguments." Hmm. Well. Bev thought this meant me and Katrina, but that doesn't compute. The thing about a longstanding emnity is that in order for it to be longstanding, you can't be going for each other's throats all the time. Kat and I haven't had a real argument in years. So, who else is invited? Bev and I have never fought. Ditto Meg. Becca and I have, but she's my best friend. Therefore, I am intriguied. It's strangely ironic, because although no-one likes Gemma, it's least pronounced in yours truly. Talk about biting the hand that feeds you.

To make things even worse, Becca was discussing excuses she could make, and happened to say, "I wish I wasn't invited," while talking to me and holding the invitation (which I wasn't supposed to see) while Gemma was right there. I wondered if she'd heard. Later Becca said Gemma had completely blanked her, which answers that question. On our way home, Becca was moved to complain, "This stuff always happens to me, and I don't like fights. You don't mind them..."

"Excuse me?" I interjected. "What fights have I ever got into with anyone?"

"There was Vicky Brade..."

"That was not my fault, and it wasn't my fault she got expelled a week later!"

"There's Katrina..."

"When was the last time I got into a fight with Katrina?"

"Two days ago."

"She did something horrible so I hit her on the head!"

On reflection, I think it's time to work on my people skills.

We were running late by that point anyway, so Becca went with me to College Road library. She was looking for leaflets with a phone number for the Everyman, and I was looking for The Last Hero and The Truth (I want to re-read it). The only thing that was found was The Last Hero, and I hadn't realised how big it is. It's actually a really beautiful book - a coffee-table volume with an actual plot - and I can't remember the last time I read a book with pictures. On the flip side, it appears someone is going round the Sefton libraries stealing all the copies of The Truth. They all seem to be unaccountably AWOL.

I got home and remembered not only was there a banoffee pie in the fridge, my parents were going out and taking my grandmother. Ah, peace. I can play music as loud as I like and watch whatever I like on telly and eat whenever and whatever I want without her beady eyes on me. She watches me like a hawk for no reason. Even when I get up and move across the room, her head swivels like it's on a turntable. It's horrible, and my mother says she does it to her too.

That's not the point. I'm going away now. On a final unrelated point, Ponder Stibbons is so Harry Potter grown up. He so is.