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"Please do not eat the display."
Mar. 2nd, 2004 08:41 pmToday is my should-be birthday, believe it or not. If I'd been born on time, that is. But I wasn't so never mind.
I decided about a week ago that I ought to do something sporty, for - what else? - my UCAS form. I am, if it is by any chance not clear, a fundamentally unsporty person. I am extremely flexible (no giggling at the back!) and a good badminton player; beyond that, I suck at just about everything. And yet, I joined the basketball club. Firstly, my entire Chemistry class seem to have also done so, and secondly basketball is an entirely more sensible sport than netball, so it did seem a good idea on a few fronts. So after a morning of mostly uninteresting lessons - Chemistry, electrophilic addition across unsymmetrical alkenes, and English, more poetry - I went. I couldn't go at twelve because of a Daisy Pulls It Off rehearsal, which was probably a good thing. I am as terrible at basketball as I am at everything else. Somehow the two teams became Upper Five versus sixth form, and did I mention how much I hate the Upper Fives?
So I wouldn't say I exactly enjoyed myself. But I do think I ought to carry on going. Blargh.
In the afternoon, Mr Evans had developed a new method of person classification. Basically, he has divided all girls into two categories - those who will iron their boyfriends' shirts when they're at university, and those who won't. I was the only one who fell into the latter category. I was amused. I was more amused when I went down to the library later and met him again, this time plugging for me to drop Biology instead of Politics next year. "Because you're not biased at all, Mr Evans!" I yelled after him, and he looked characteristically innocent.
We're all getting thrown out of the library tomorrow in favour of the new headmistress (boo, hiss) so I was rather glad I went today and saw a new display all about food in books, for some reason. I've never seen a sign that read "Please do not eat the display" before. I waved at Nichola before departing for lovely Biology. Actually, it was better than usual; last week, I was annoyed that we only do the science in purely dispassionate fashion, never looking at moral and ethical considerations, and amazingly, I'm not the only one to have had that thought. It's actually in the module that we should look at the ethics of what we do, and so much debate was had. Fidan and I have severe differences of opinion, but we seem to be able to debate quite well. The trick I make the most use of when debating with scientists is to be really annoying and say, "Why?" and "Define that" and "Within what parameters?" Anything reduced to axiomatic form annoys them.
Tomorrow, I have to deliver my views for cloning (Becky O has against). I have yet to even make a start. Help, etc. I have been whiling away my time doing not very much, although I did watch Wormhole X-treme (review forthcoming) because, well, how can you not watch that?
I decided about a week ago that I ought to do something sporty, for - what else? - my UCAS form. I am, if it is by any chance not clear, a fundamentally unsporty person. I am extremely flexible (no giggling at the back!) and a good badminton player; beyond that, I suck at just about everything. And yet, I joined the basketball club. Firstly, my entire Chemistry class seem to have also done so, and secondly basketball is an entirely more sensible sport than netball, so it did seem a good idea on a few fronts. So after a morning of mostly uninteresting lessons - Chemistry, electrophilic addition across unsymmetrical alkenes, and English, more poetry - I went. I couldn't go at twelve because of a Daisy Pulls It Off rehearsal, which was probably a good thing. I am as terrible at basketball as I am at everything else. Somehow the two teams became Upper Five versus sixth form, and did I mention how much I hate the Upper Fives?
So I wouldn't say I exactly enjoyed myself. But I do think I ought to carry on going. Blargh.
In the afternoon, Mr Evans had developed a new method of person classification. Basically, he has divided all girls into two categories - those who will iron their boyfriends' shirts when they're at university, and those who won't. I was the only one who fell into the latter category. I was amused. I was more amused when I went down to the library later and met him again, this time plugging for me to drop Biology instead of Politics next year. "Because you're not biased at all, Mr Evans!" I yelled after him, and he looked characteristically innocent.
We're all getting thrown out of the library tomorrow in favour of the new headmistress (boo, hiss) so I was rather glad I went today and saw a new display all about food in books, for some reason. I've never seen a sign that read "Please do not eat the display" before. I waved at Nichola before departing for lovely Biology. Actually, it was better than usual; last week, I was annoyed that we only do the science in purely dispassionate fashion, never looking at moral and ethical considerations, and amazingly, I'm not the only one to have had that thought. It's actually in the module that we should look at the ethics of what we do, and so much debate was had. Fidan and I have severe differences of opinion, but we seem to be able to debate quite well. The trick I make the most use of when debating with scientists is to be really annoying and say, "Why?" and "Define that" and "Within what parameters?" Anything reduced to axiomatic form annoys them.
Tomorrow, I have to deliver my views for cloning (Becky O has against). I have yet to even make a start. Help, etc. I have been whiling away my time doing not very much, although I did watch Wormhole X-treme (review forthcoming) because, well, how can you not watch that?
