CND and the National Front

The day did not begin well. I was bored and more bored and Becca's ignoring me for some reason. I went to the library committee weekly bonding - more on that in a minute - and then went to Politics. It's the boring module on Wednesdays, and I was tired and unhappy and very bored. Thankfully I have you lot, and I got out my phone and started discreetly texting under the desk. To be specific, texting cucharita. I may not have mentioned lately how much I love her, but I loved her particularly this morning. She told me in no uncertain terms that she was kidnapping me at lunch. I looked forward to it.

I went to Biology - cutting and sticking and microvilli, oh my! - and engaged in a brief discussion about football. Becky O is still an Arsenal fan. Sigh. Meg asked me if I was still a Liverpudlian. Um, yes. So was she. "And Sarah's an Evertonian," she continued, sighing.

"Better that than a Manc," I said.

Steph, who's a Manc, was indignant. "Better a Manc than a... than a..."

She was staring at Becky, which gave me the chance to make my only remotely witty remark of the day. "Arse?"

Well, it amused me. Following that, I went to lunch. Wednesday, so went to Sayers nominally with Becca and Emma, but somehow they didn't want to talk to me. Enid turned up right on cue, looking particularly cute with pink and blonde hair in pigtails. We went down to Sayers, taking a slight detour for her to look at Christmas trees (I informed her she might need a chainsaw license) and I got a chicken and mushroom slice and a Christmas pudding cookie, which is an ordinary large chocolate chip cookie with white chocolate and a little green sugar piece of holly to make it look like a flat Christmas pudding. It was quite nice. Enid had gingerbread. Naturally.

We went up to the common room and talked a bit, mostly about the Merchants' Christmas party in December. It's fancy dress, and I suppose I would have gone had I not been at Medlink. Enid's going and wants to borrow osiris13's Death costume. Clare is unfortunately much taller than Enid, which is something of a problem. If I'd gone, I'd have gone as a demon with ears and tail. Crowley-esque. Emma thinks she'll borrow that idea from me. Bev wanted to know if I were going; well, I'm not. I'll go up to Nottingham the day before.

While we were sitting there I was taking pictures. It annoyed Enid slightly - she was engaged in pilfering someone's sweet 'n' sour chicken at that particular moment - and in the course of her being annoyed she reminded me I've never posted one of my little pictures of her. So here it is, and she did look cute. She deserted me shortly after, going off to Bootle I believe, but I'm glad she came. I went down to the library, where I met quackaquacka trying to avoid Mrs Stubbs. They're doing their GCSE coursework. I can't believe I actually did all mine and got my A* without going completely howlingly insane. Paradoxically, the A-level coursework is much more reasonable.

Nichola arrived shortly afterwards, and I went and did my (unofficial) library duty. I really do only do it because I like it. Today, we were thinking about our Big Read assembly, to be held on the eighth of December. At the moment, it looks like we're doing five books, which are (bearing in mind they have to be accessible to thirds): Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Winnie-the-Pooh (which is on the sixth form reading list!), The Wind in the Willows and something else. I've forgotten it. For some reason, we've had the bright idea of getting the staff involved. Mrs Custard and Mrs Colvin have agreed to it all providing they don't have to acutally say anything, so we've cast them as Professor McGonagall and Madam Hooch. Laura Ashton is Toad of Toad Hall, Rola is Tigger, I'm Eeyore, and Mr Wood is Harry Potter. The English staff are collectively the Triwizard Tournament judges, Mrs Barry is Gandalf, we've employed a few more teachers as hobbits, and all we need now is someone to be the Hungarian Horntail. Odds are on Mrs Bush. Don't laugh.

Nichola and I went to the office and made an appointment to see Mrs Mills. The note ran: Dear Mrs Mills, we would like to consult you with regards to a role in our assembly on December 8th. Thank you, yours sincerely, etc. A more honest note would have been, "Dear Mrs Mills, we want you to play a hobbit with a cardboard ring around your neck. Nichola has promised not to go without me, when and if we get our appointment. Mrs Barry is afraid we'll get her sacked.

Emma has agreed to ask her dad to be Harry Potter. So far, so hoopy. But Emma and I were very very late, so off we toddled down to the Stroke Association. Which was surprisingly good this week. I met another volunteer, whose name is Michael Guerin, and he turned out to be one of the more interesting people I've talked to. For some reason we were talking about politics, he accused my school of fascism and we got on fine from there. He claims to be the only person in the whole world who was a member of the National Front and a member of CND at the same time. He says he joined the National Front by accident. I was amused. He knew the etymology of my name, the link with St Columba, and I was impressed by that. He did mention he'd been a teacher, and I assumed he'd been a history or politics teacher, as he was so well informed, but no. He was a physics teacher, and a teacher of computing thirty years ago when all there was was mainframes. So, yes. I did enjoy it down there today. It's variable; all depends on the people I'm with.

I went home, and Pedar and I went to the library. I found the paperback version of The Truth, so it's all good. I'm hungry now, and there's pie. Mmmm.