Christmas presents (and a very library Christmas, part two)

The second part of the library Christmas was actually yesterday (and I'm so tired I nearly wrote "tomorrow"). The last bit of the present exchange was fun; Miranda got me Going Postal (watch me squee) and we gave feathers to Sam. I gave Miranda the Discworld Companion, after much self-restraint exercised to stop me keeping it for myself. I gave the giant purple magic eight ball to Cath in the end, along with some chocolate for all. We offered it to Mr Evans again. He never says no.

This morning, I handed out Terry's chocolate oranges to all and sundry, received one more (yay Emma) and also a couple of other things - a notebook and some Natural Collection stuff (Boots, natch) and it was all rather nice. Fidan doesn't Do Christmas, and Sarah has decided that Christmas this year is in February. She means it, too. Apparently her and Laura's interviews at Oxford went well. I was sincerely glad to hear it, and a number of our esteemed teachers have handed out their mobile numbers - "Text us when you know!"

I thought, and said, that they certainly deserve to know as soon as possible, as they're all taking as much of an interest as we are. And they were also subject to some gentle mockery today, courtesy of the Christmas entertainment. I won't describe all of it, because it won't make sense if you don't/didn't go to Merchants', but in short, things lampooned included the Upper Fives' resemblance to to Oompa-Loompas (which they took very badly - we had posters put in our common room with delightful messages, such as "Fucking whores!", only not so accurately spelled), Mrs Myring's general waddlement, Mrs Hart's well-documented desire for world domination, Rice-Oxley's squirrel fixation, Mrs Hurst and the lunch queue ("GO AWAY!" - and there was chasing with a window pole) and finally Julie as Miss Brandreth, carefully mocking her boundless need for affirmation. "Well, girls, that was tremendous."

Only, it wasn't really. When we did it for the upper school it was bad and bad because several people concerned were still drunk from last night, and when we did it for the lower school it was better but the first-years weren't getting the jokes. There was a great sequence with Steph doing Mr Wilson doing a striptease - Rola spent hours yesterday sewing velcro into her clothes - which they all seemed rather scandalised with. Mrs Stubbs made a cameo playing herself, and carrying a swipe card the size of a door. Good stuff.

But apart from that, I did precisely nothing today except eat, chat and randomly surf the net (and I didn't do that much). It was lazy and Christmas-like, which can only be a good thing, and by the time we got to final assembly I was comfortably dazed with Miranda next to me and teasing me mercilessly because I had no clue what was going on. Some days ago, Mrs Miller dropped a hint about something that was happening at this final assembly. We didn't quite believe her. Now I feel we should have.

In an effort quite unmatched in all my years here, the school's entire teaching staff piled on stage, dressed as Greek gods and warrior princesses in togas and school uniform and silly hats, and gave us a new and improved rendition of the Twelve Days of Christmas, as follows (and it had a Powerpoint presentation, too):

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:
-twelve Olympian gods;
-eleven thousand books; (yay! - bigger than a small public library, we are)
-ten Bunsen burners; (held up in the air and waved)
-nine contour models; (ditto - they're these stacks of cardboard they paint vibrant colours and use in Geography)
-eight mufti days; (Miss Hathaway in pigtails and a poncho)
-seven netball players;
-six calculators; (waved about like maniacs)
-five male staff; (they were in a slashy huddle on one side of the stage, and every time the line was sung Mr Wood jumped down on top of Mr Evans and brained a few thirds in the process)
-four ML rooms;
-three order marks; (the size of doors, again - it seemed to be a theme)
-two dangly earrings; (Mrs Colvin, naturally)
...and a Volkswagen Beetle for me. (The teacher-in-training for IT is a rather effeminate man named Joaquim, or something like that. He has a pink Beetle that most people are in love with. Most people are also in love with him, Fidan included. I think he's gay. If he's straight, he's very confident in his sexuality. "Maybe he's both," Sarah said. Fidan considered, then said: "Just 'cause he's shy doesn't mean he's bi!" and looked surprised when we shrieked with laughter).

And that was it for the autumn term. The moment I walked in the door, amchau called, and we killed half an hour talking about coffee and toast and clang-gloink noises and Angel and stuff like that, and I was all happy and in the mood for Christmas when I got off the phone, despite the weirdest day ever.

I went out to check the mail just now, and there's a parcel. I thought it was from Amazon or Am-Chau or someone - but then the sender's address jumped out at me and I yelled and jumped out and down and came running into the kitchen yelling, "It's from Leigh!"

It's wonderful. She sent me Once More With Feeling (the Placebo singles version) which is amazing all by itself because ohmygod it has Protege-Moi on it, argh, and earrings. Three pairs of the cutest little red things that I can wear two of at once, and I'm quite clearly getting over-exited. Leigh, thank you so much, and for the record you have excellent timing - we're flying out tomorrow and if it had been any later I wouldn't have got it for a week.

Ohmygod. You made a day that had aready been made, which is quite some achievement. Thank you. You rock. And I got the Hershey's Kiss, too. It took me far too long to get the joke.