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The Leavers' Ball
May. 16th, 2005 05:05 pm[One down, fourteen to go.]
Yes, I am going to keep on doing that, why do you ask? Not that today's exam was actually important - it was a General Studies module and so important in the greater scheme of my life that I only actually bothered to find out which module on Friday. Not the maths? Good, won't take a calculator. Not the one with the pre-release? Good, I won't look at that then. Simple as that. By the time this lunchtime rolled around, the other chemgeeks and I were sitting in the library chatting about where to go out to eat on Friday and flicking through magazines. See the work ethic at, um, work.
So I went into the exam, read the top of the paper and noted it was the society and politics module, and having done that, scribbled my name, number and signature. The questions weren't particularly taxing. They wanted me to write about the advantages of sending people to prison and outline a five-point plan to combat alcohol-related crime in Britain. Easy stuff, all except one question about the way in which information was presented. I kept wanting to treat it like an English question and talk about dramatic effect, but managed to restrain myself; I later commented that yes, an A-level student at this stage is a classic subject of Pavlovian conditioning.
So, in the last few days I have gone to work, attempted to revise, tried to finish fic and generally been unproductive. I did, however, go to Hannah's leavers' ball on Friday night, which was a great deal of fun. It involved Clare and Ron arriving at Merchants' in a flurry of panic, much crazed driving around Merseyside and then all of us attempting to get ready in about ten minutes. It was great. Getting ready was no easy task, what with the limited time, seven people in one room, Straighteners O'Doom, and Colleen's dress. It had a corset-y thing to tie up while she was leaning against a wall, which required three people and use of diagrams. {As she was up against the wall, she moaned, "This is getting more and more like Tipping the Velvet, isn't it?" and I think I was forced to agree. We were at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pr1ncess_sara's, whose family had graciously agreed to put up with us for the night.
We had a limo! It was weirdly cool, and Enid started feeling princessy. This prompted a burst of acquiring rank, with Enid and Sara as princesses and others as ladies and countesses and blah and blah. I didn't get to be a princess, I got to be a democratically elected leader. Yay me.
The ball was held at a place called... something. Hillbark, I think. (I lived on the Wirral. There is no excuse for my ignorance.) It was terribly formal, mock Tudor with sweeping staircases, and Enid, Colleen and I began to feel a little intimidated. As the others were meeting their school friends, Colleen said in an aside, "Smile and nod, smile and nod. We're the company wives."
Which was true, and a little complicated in my case because as you all know, I went to Birkenhead's primary school and all the eleven-year-olds I used to know are now eighteen, but the three of us hung back when they did a year group photo. "Where were you?" Clare asked later.
At which point we looked sheepish and Colleen said, "At the bar."
But we stopped feeling uncomfortable as soon as dinner was served. It was lovely, formal with nice food, and they'd sat us at a table in the last of the sunlight. As I said, lovely. And afterwards there was dancing and drinking and general fun stuff. I was a little apprehensive, along with Colleen - we were there as actual dates, subject to the searching gaze of everyone else there, but I think we acquitted ourselves well, and had a good time. The DJ was a bit crap, but we danced anyway. I meant to get drunk (I was in the mood, for some reason) but I always decide this when the drinks are expensive. I subsisted on Bailey's and danced a lot. It was a fun night, although I was miserable in the morning - we only slept for about four hours, and Clare suddenly volunteered to take Enid, Colleen and me home. Well, I was taken to work. They came into the shop and looked around at it before I had to actually start work.
Which was miserable - a customer came in to complain about me last week and the general consensus is whether or not it was my fault, it was my fault as the customer is always right. Which is probably true but doesn't stop me being miserable about it.
Anyway! ( pics from the ball ) All night, we were telling Hannah she looked like Starbuck from Battlestar Galactica, with that hair and that dress. Everyone saw it, except the girl herself (she's never seen the show). To that effect, I dug out a ( relevant pic )
Yes, I am going to keep on doing that, why do you ask? Not that today's exam was actually important - it was a General Studies module and so important in the greater scheme of my life that I only actually bothered to find out which module on Friday. Not the maths? Good, won't take a calculator. Not the one with the pre-release? Good, I won't look at that then. Simple as that. By the time this lunchtime rolled around, the other chemgeeks and I were sitting in the library chatting about where to go out to eat on Friday and flicking through magazines. See the work ethic at, um, work.
So I went into the exam, read the top of the paper and noted it was the society and politics module, and having done that, scribbled my name, number and signature. The questions weren't particularly taxing. They wanted me to write about the advantages of sending people to prison and outline a five-point plan to combat alcohol-related crime in Britain. Easy stuff, all except one question about the way in which information was presented. I kept wanting to treat it like an English question and talk about dramatic effect, but managed to restrain myself; I later commented that yes, an A-level student at this stage is a classic subject of Pavlovian conditioning.
So, in the last few days I have gone to work, attempted to revise, tried to finish fic and generally been unproductive. I did, however, go to Hannah's leavers' ball on Friday night, which was a great deal of fun. It involved Clare and Ron arriving at Merchants' in a flurry of panic, much crazed driving around Merseyside and then all of us attempting to get ready in about ten minutes. It was great. Getting ready was no easy task, what with the limited time, seven people in one room, Straighteners O'Doom, and Colleen's dress. It had a corset-y thing to tie up while she was leaning against a wall, which required three people and use of diagrams. {As she was up against the wall, she moaned, "This is getting more and more like Tipping the Velvet, isn't it?" and I think I was forced to agree. We were at
pr1ncess_sara's, whose family had graciously agreed to put up with us for the night.We had a limo! It was weirdly cool, and Enid started feeling princessy. This prompted a burst of acquiring rank, with Enid and Sara as princesses and others as ladies and countesses and blah and blah. I didn't get to be a princess, I got to be a democratically elected leader. Yay me.
The ball was held at a place called... something. Hillbark, I think. (I lived on the Wirral. There is no excuse for my ignorance.) It was terribly formal, mock Tudor with sweeping staircases, and Enid, Colleen and I began to feel a little intimidated. As the others were meeting their school friends, Colleen said in an aside, "Smile and nod, smile and nod. We're the company wives."
Which was true, and a little complicated in my case because as you all know, I went to Birkenhead's primary school and all the eleven-year-olds I used to know are now eighteen, but the three of us hung back when they did a year group photo. "Where were you?" Clare asked later.
At which point we looked sheepish and Colleen said, "At the bar."
But we stopped feeling uncomfortable as soon as dinner was served. It was lovely, formal with nice food, and they'd sat us at a table in the last of the sunlight. As I said, lovely. And afterwards there was dancing and drinking and general fun stuff. I was a little apprehensive, along with Colleen - we were there as actual dates, subject to the searching gaze of everyone else there, but I think we acquitted ourselves well, and had a good time. The DJ was a bit crap, but we danced anyway. I meant to get drunk (I was in the mood, for some reason) but I always decide this when the drinks are expensive. I subsisted on Bailey's and danced a lot. It was a fun night, although I was miserable in the morning - we only slept for about four hours, and Clare suddenly volunteered to take Enid, Colleen and me home. Well, I was taken to work. They came into the shop and looked around at it before I had to actually start work.
Which was miserable - a customer came in to complain about me last week and the general consensus is whether or not it was my fault, it was my fault as the customer is always right. Which is probably true but doesn't stop me being miserable about it.
Anyway! ( pics from the ball ) All night, we were telling Hannah she looked like Starbuck from Battlestar Galactica, with that hair and that dress. Everyone saw it, except the girl herself (she's never seen the show). To that effect, I dug out a ( relevant pic )
