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Feet of clay
Nov. 24th, 2004 10:39 amAnd a very good morning to all, etc, etc. Why and where I am writing this are slightly out-of-the-ordinary, hence some explanation. The night before last, I was in a state of blah. The sort of State of Blah that acquires capital letters, a flag and welcome sign:
"You are now entering the State of Blah. Please drive carefully. Or not, because we don't care."
It was all happening because of the mock interview I had yesterday. What they do is they assign every Oxbridge/Medicine applicant with a(nother) mentor, sit them in a room in a formal situation and make them answer questions. Consequently, I was a nervous wreck by the night before because I couldn't think of a single thing that I actually, like, knew. My mother was no help, telling me I ought to focus on Medicine when the mock interview was for PPE and don't be nervous when it was something I couldn't exactly help, like breathing. At the same time, my ears were ringing. Loudly. I couldn't explain it. In the morning, I listened to Keane's Hopes and Fears on my way into school, and couldn't hear it above the noise in my head. Later, in in the small Biology lab, I became convinced the noise was so loud it had to be real. Of course, I had to ask, does anyone else hear that, and they said hear what, etc, and clearly, I said, I am going insane. Their collective expressions did not dissuade me.
By the time the interview itself rolled around, I was actually feeling rather calm and collected, and decided that if I made a fool of myself then oh, well, and sat there whil Mr Donnan (English teacher, hadn't said more than five words to him before) asked me questions. After the usual why-this-course why-this-college why-you, he got onto the actual subject questions, and they were hard. The ones that stick out were: "Why study such an ivory tower subject as Philosophy?", "What is the connection between science and philosophy?", "What are the advantages of a market economy?", "What were the long term ramifications of the Thatcher years?", "Will Labour ever be a socialist party again?" and "Which should dictate to governments, economic or social policy?"
It wasn't an easy interview, clearly, and by the time I got to the last question, I was feeling a little unstuck. But when it was over and I sat back in my chair, he was terribly nice. Said it was the best interview he'd done in a long time, and if it had been up to him, he would have given me the place. So I smiled like an idiot, thanked him, went wandering out of the door and round the corner into the library, where I engaged in jumping up and down and making entirely too much noise. I had to, to make myself heard over the noise in my ears.
So that was that, more or less. Interview over, I had to then cope with parents' evening - last one ever, thankfully. My parents were polite, even Pedar, who is notoriously bored at these sort of things, and he probably scandalised Mrs Colvin, who was actually very nice about me. Said I was "very astute with large molecules" (huh?) and she called me an intellectual. Pedar called it slander.
But by the time I got home, I decided that was all I was ready to face for one day, so I watched Friends (TOW Ross Flirts), and went to bed. I refused utterly to go to school, especially as all I'd miss would be General Studies (and some other things, but blah) and this morning I woke up at nine, feeling like crap. I am virus-ridden and ill, more tired than one night's sleep will cure, without the ability to concentrate on anything much in particular. But I'm in a good mood. I've hit my lowest point and refused to get out of bed in the morning. Now the only way is up. And the inside of my head is blessedly silent.
Today, I plan to finish watching season seven of Buffy - I'm up to Dirty Girls - and make a start on season one of Angel (the DVDs arrived two days ago, may Amazon be blessed). And maybe do some work. Maybe. Definitely will spam LJ as much as I want, and do the wishlist meme, and just generally do stuff I wanted to do. The first piece of spam is simple. Does anyone have, or know where I could get, the Exposition Song from Restless on mp3? It's sort of kind of very important.
And I forgot to mention strawberry laces. My mother bought a massive box of them. Life is, if not good, then decidedly okay.
"You are now entering the State of Blah. Please drive carefully. Or not, because we don't care."
It was all happening because of the mock interview I had yesterday. What they do is they assign every Oxbridge/Medicine applicant with a(nother) mentor, sit them in a room in a formal situation and make them answer questions. Consequently, I was a nervous wreck by the night before because I couldn't think of a single thing that I actually, like, knew. My mother was no help, telling me I ought to focus on Medicine when the mock interview was for PPE and don't be nervous when it was something I couldn't exactly help, like breathing. At the same time, my ears were ringing. Loudly. I couldn't explain it. In the morning, I listened to Keane's Hopes and Fears on my way into school, and couldn't hear it above the noise in my head. Later, in in the small Biology lab, I became convinced the noise was so loud it had to be real. Of course, I had to ask, does anyone else hear that, and they said hear what, etc, and clearly, I said, I am going insane. Their collective expressions did not dissuade me.
By the time the interview itself rolled around, I was actually feeling rather calm and collected, and decided that if I made a fool of myself then oh, well, and sat there whil Mr Donnan (English teacher, hadn't said more than five words to him before) asked me questions. After the usual why-this-course why-this-college why-you, he got onto the actual subject questions, and they were hard. The ones that stick out were: "Why study such an ivory tower subject as Philosophy?", "What is the connection between science and philosophy?", "What are the advantages of a market economy?", "What were the long term ramifications of the Thatcher years?", "Will Labour ever be a socialist party again?" and "Which should dictate to governments, economic or social policy?"
It wasn't an easy interview, clearly, and by the time I got to the last question, I was feeling a little unstuck. But when it was over and I sat back in my chair, he was terribly nice. Said it was the best interview he'd done in a long time, and if it had been up to him, he would have given me the place. So I smiled like an idiot, thanked him, went wandering out of the door and round the corner into the library, where I engaged in jumping up and down and making entirely too much noise. I had to, to make myself heard over the noise in my ears.
So that was that, more or less. Interview over, I had to then cope with parents' evening - last one ever, thankfully. My parents were polite, even Pedar, who is notoriously bored at these sort of things, and he probably scandalised Mrs Colvin, who was actually very nice about me. Said I was "very astute with large molecules" (huh?) and she called me an intellectual. Pedar called it slander.
But by the time I got home, I decided that was all I was ready to face for one day, so I watched Friends (TOW Ross Flirts), and went to bed. I refused utterly to go to school, especially as all I'd miss would be General Studies (and some other things, but blah) and this morning I woke up at nine, feeling like crap. I am virus-ridden and ill, more tired than one night's sleep will cure, without the ability to concentrate on anything much in particular. But I'm in a good mood. I've hit my lowest point and refused to get out of bed in the morning. Now the only way is up. And the inside of my head is blessedly silent.
Today, I plan to finish watching season seven of Buffy - I'm up to Dirty Girls - and make a start on season one of Angel (the DVDs arrived two days ago, may Amazon be blessed). And maybe do some work. Maybe. Definitely will spam LJ as much as I want, and do the wishlist meme, and just generally do stuff I wanted to do. The first piece of spam is simple. Does anyone have, or know where I could get, the Exposition Song from Restless on mp3? It's sort of kind of very important.
And I forgot to mention strawberry laces. My mother bought a massive box of them. Life is, if not good, then decidedly okay.
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