Stories from a girls' school

How's this for incredibly ironic? On National Coming Out Day (and at the time, I did not know it was National Coming Out Day) I almost came out, but didn't. Because. And I don't know whether or not I regret it.

The slightly longer version, then. Fidan and Emma are still struggling with Greek, for some reason which we cannot identify but nevertheless makes all our lives interesting, and today they seem to have got to discussing the island of Lesbos. "Oh," sayeth I, "where the word "lesbian" comes from."

Enter Becky Branton, small girl, fun to talk to on occasion but really a raging conservative in a way that is frankly frightening for someone of my age. She launches into the conversation. "Now, I'm not homophobic, but..."

At which point I laughed, caught Emma's eye, and laughed a little more. She turned to me, somewhat aggrieved. "What?"

I explained. "I'm always wary when someone starts a sentence with 'I'm not homophobic but...'"

"I'm not!"

She believed she wasn't. I listened.

"I haven't got a problem with people being gay! I just don't want it in my face, that's all!"

At which I executed the patented bleeding-heart eye-roll, which probably irritated her. "No, you don't have a problem. You're not all phobic or insulting or repressed."

"And there's no need to be sarcastic!"

"I'm not being sarcastic," I said. "I'm being truthful."

"And what do you mean, repressed! I'm not gay!"

I will admit I was moving from reasonable and rational into just a little bit cruel. "Oh, yes, you are. Everyone is bisexual at some level. It just comes in varying degrees."

"Excuse me, I am not bisexual! I just don't want them in my face!"

Imagine, if you will, the scene, dear readers. We were eating lunch, I should have said. And I was sitting on her right side, drinking from the same water jug, breathing the same air. I just wanted to say, quietly, with no fuss nor inappropriate swearing, "I am in your face."

But I didn't. I said, "One in every ten people you have ever met is lesbian, gay or bisexual."

"Huh."

Huh, indeed. I don't think I will ever come out in school, now I come to think of it, unless it's on the last day in a blaze of glory or else we knew all along.

Moving on, then. Today has been a bad coming-out day and a bad hair day (my layers are growing out and I look like an Old English Sheepdog) but a good Chemistry day. I did mention that during last week's debacle involving whiteboard pens, I was trying to crystallise phenylammonium chloride. The crystals have been made, hallelujah, and today's job was establishing the purity of the damn things.

Well, all hail me. With a melting point of exactly one hundred and fourteen degrees, all hail me and my hundred percent purity. Yay. Also, I appear to have mastered equilibrium constant calculations, even with my rudimentary maths skills, and this makes me feel happy. I ought to revise them, too, but that's neither here nor there. The thing is, I really thought I was floundering academically for a while. But I'm produced good, proper A grade standard essays on Othello and the Electoral College, got the calculations to similar standard, and I suck at Biology but I've always sucked at Biology and didn't lose too many module marks last year.

It's reassuring, is all. Talking of reassuring, I am now officially a Harrison scholar, complete with shiny silver badge. I had to go up for it this morning, and well, I should have mentioned that I had a slight run-in with Miss Brandreth on Saturday morning when I was doing librarian duty for the open day. I was ranting about how it was badly organised and I was the only librarian and yet still got carted off to be a guide, and I had a little name badge with "Head of sixth form library committee" on it, and it really was the most unglamourous thing in the entire world, rant rant rant. Weirdly enough, she did actually agree with some of it. Anyway, going up this morning, her expression on seeing the face to match the name (because, of course, she may have "Iona" on her list but that doesn't mean she knows who it is) stated unequivocably to the world - "Oh, god, it's you."

It was me. Oops. Anyway, I have arranged to see my references so more fireworks will no doubt be forthcoming.

In other news, Pedar is home from North Carolina. This is good. Life is actually quite good, for once. I'm looking forward to Em's party.

And, GIP - aimed at purplerainbow, of course.