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Wednesday. Supposed to be my interlude. Was not. My lessons were paradoxically the easy part. It began with the assembly on Hinduism. I was wearing a gorgeous, flowing red-and-gold dupatta - over an old black wool hoodie, Gap skirt and big fuck-off red Doc Martens. I looked... interesting. So was the assembly. Actually, it wasn't bad in itself. It was just too short. At nine o'clock, we'd finished and the upper school audience were looking at us expressions of bemusement. Miss Gow owes me. Oh, she owes me.
I departed as soon as possible, and although I should have gone straight to Politics, I went on a brief diversion down to the library, where the committee were engaged in not doing anything. I discovered my name has been written down on a list of possible candidates for chair of the committee next year. I have no objection, and we will all have to vote some time soon. I did think lessons might be cancelled, following that, but no such luck.
I went out for lunch, and came back for - wait for it - scenery painting. Everyone who does A-level History had to do a course essay today under exam conditions, which contributed to the general sixth form stress level, and as half of Daisy Pulls It Off producers do History, off they all went at one. I meant to go down to the library to tell Nichola and Mrs Barry that I wouldn't be helping this afternoon because of the scenery, but I bowed to the inevitable and stayed. Shefali is still being amused by me and Nichola as part of our voluntary service, and she is being oddly cute. She asked this morning, in all innocence, "When I'm in the sixth form can I be a librarian?" Mrs Barry laughed and said of course she could. I wonder, do we look like we're having that much fun? In any case, Shefali will be in sixth form in 2007, which is a faintly worrying thought. So will our Drama Festival formlings - and maybe then they'll realise how much trouble their poor, put-upon sixth formers went to back when they were young!
They're being bratty. L4G, I mean. We got them out of PE this afternoon for a rehearsal - we went to see Mrs Stenson, who said, "You want them? Take 'em." - and they moaned and groaned and I would have gleefully killed them all, with the possible exception of Lizzie, who is quiet and shy and possibly quite lonely and an insatiable reader and our narrator and me all over again. If our version of Daisy had had a narrator, I would have been her with no questions asked. Some people are destined to be narrators, and I am one of those people. I strongly suspect Lizzie is too.
Their parents evening just about bollocksed up their rehearsal. Hardly any of them were there, but we were able to practice lighting and scene changes, which was good as the play seems to be getting slicker. Also, Emma got a chance to play Vangelis' Chariots of Fire. We wanted it on as a sound effect when Daisy is racing up the pitch to score the winning goal, but Mrs Wigmore has vetoed all sound effects this year. Therefore our resident musical genius has learnt how to play it in two days.
Actually, talking of Mrs Wigmore, she's being so annoying and ditzy where the Drama Festival is concerned that it's driving most people crazy. She's supposed to be in charge, but she's so forgetful that she didn't send out the after-school rehearsal letters until a week after they should have gone out and she scheduled a Lower Four cenetenary hall rehearsal the day of their parents evening. Also, everyone knows that some time next week, she's going to storm into every single rehearsal of every form and yell, and scream, and tell them they're crap, the whole thing is called off, or alternatively, she's withdrawing nearly every form from the competition. She has threatened this every year and never gone through with the threats. She was the worst teacher ever, back when she still taught me. Urgh.
I haven't done any work today, either, although I did watch Redemption part 1. First time I'd ever seen it non-squinty. I cannot wait for Easter. Roll on the thirty-first of March!
I departed as soon as possible, and although I should have gone straight to Politics, I went on a brief diversion down to the library, where the committee were engaged in not doing anything. I discovered my name has been written down on a list of possible candidates for chair of the committee next year. I have no objection, and we will all have to vote some time soon. I did think lessons might be cancelled, following that, but no such luck.
I went out for lunch, and came back for - wait for it - scenery painting. Everyone who does A-level History had to do a course essay today under exam conditions, which contributed to the general sixth form stress level, and as half of Daisy Pulls It Off producers do History, off they all went at one. I meant to go down to the library to tell Nichola and Mrs Barry that I wouldn't be helping this afternoon because of the scenery, but I bowed to the inevitable and stayed. Shefali is still being amused by me and Nichola as part of our voluntary service, and she is being oddly cute. She asked this morning, in all innocence, "When I'm in the sixth form can I be a librarian?" Mrs Barry laughed and said of course she could. I wonder, do we look like we're having that much fun? In any case, Shefali will be in sixth form in 2007, which is a faintly worrying thought. So will our Drama Festival formlings - and maybe then they'll realise how much trouble their poor, put-upon sixth formers went to back when they were young!
They're being bratty. L4G, I mean. We got them out of PE this afternoon for a rehearsal - we went to see Mrs Stenson, who said, "You want them? Take 'em." - and they moaned and groaned and I would have gleefully killed them all, with the possible exception of Lizzie, who is quiet and shy and possibly quite lonely and an insatiable reader and our narrator and me all over again. If our version of Daisy had had a narrator, I would have been her with no questions asked. Some people are destined to be narrators, and I am one of those people. I strongly suspect Lizzie is too.
Their parents evening just about bollocksed up their rehearsal. Hardly any of them were there, but we were able to practice lighting and scene changes, which was good as the play seems to be getting slicker. Also, Emma got a chance to play Vangelis' Chariots of Fire. We wanted it on as a sound effect when Daisy is racing up the pitch to score the winning goal, but Mrs Wigmore has vetoed all sound effects this year. Therefore our resident musical genius has learnt how to play it in two days.
Actually, talking of Mrs Wigmore, she's being so annoying and ditzy where the Drama Festival is concerned that it's driving most people crazy. She's supposed to be in charge, but she's so forgetful that she didn't send out the after-school rehearsal letters until a week after they should have gone out and she scheduled a Lower Four cenetenary hall rehearsal the day of their parents evening. Also, everyone knows that some time next week, she's going to storm into every single rehearsal of every form and yell, and scream, and tell them they're crap, the whole thing is called off, or alternatively, she's withdrawing nearly every form from the competition. She has threatened this every year and never gone through with the threats. She was the worst teacher ever, back when she still taught me. Urgh.
I haven't done any work today, either, although I did watch Redemption part 1. First time I'd ever seen it non-squinty. I cannot wait for Easter. Roll on the thirty-first of March!
