Withholding information
Sep. 30th, 2003 06:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ravenThere are still two and a half weeks until half term. I'm going to drop dead with exhaustion before then. Every day is so damn tiring, as well. It's because I have to actually pay attention to avoid losing track.
Anyway. At least I don't have a great deal of homework for tonight. In fact, I have very little homework (touchwood) compared to GCSE, so far. I would have had an essay, but this morning, the English rooms were being decorated for Open Morning on Saturday, so we were told to take the essay titles away with us and do them somewhere else. I stopped by the kitchen, made a mug of coffee and then realised there was no milk. So Gemma and I went down to the actual kitchens, got the milk and went back up. It all took up time, but I did have the allotted hour for the essay. I took my coffee up to the library, dug out the poems from the anthology, scribbled away in pencil and then in fountain pen, and actually enjoyed myself. Last year, I found lit essays the hardest thing in the world. They're still not exactly easy, but it's a very real example of practice making closer to perfect. I won't ever be able to do a lit essay with the ease of a language essay, but it's getting better. And I scribbled five minutes into lunch and handed it in. Voila.
Danny came up to the common room after lunch. Gemma, Meg and Kat are making life very uncomfortable for poor Verena. It was nice to see Danny again, though. Before he came, Gemma asked me about him, what did he look like, etc, and when I hesitated she said, "Let's put it this way. Would you..." - and some rather explicit hand gestures.
"No," I said. "Gay best friend, on the other hand..."
Danny is not, as far as I know, gay, but he certainly plays the gay best friend role for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cucharita.
Which is all besides the point. After a while, he and Verena left the common room for some peace and quiet. I don't blame them. When they were gone, Rosie and co. suddenly decided they wanted to talk to me. "Was that Verena's boyfriend? What year's he in? What's his name?"
I took a certain perverse pleasure in withholding information.
Following all the excitement, I started falling asleep in Politics. Woke up for the debate on America, though. No-one is a fan of Bush, it seems. When asked, I explained the concept of the Pledge of Allegiance, and I asked Mr Evans why the Americans are so patriotic, and he considered and said some stuff about all Americans having immigrated at some point, so they need something to pull them together and that something is the flag. General consensus - America is a strange country.
After school, Becca wanted to go to Quirk's in the village to buy a CD. I noticed that Quirk's in Crosby is next door to Pritchard's - exactly the same as Quirk's and Pritchard's in Formby. And there is a Mr Pritchard. Becca and I both found this unaccountably amusing. We spent some time in the shop (Thomas came in, cue groaning from Becca) and she was going to buy Coldplay's Parachutes. However, she is nothing if not quick on the uptake, and asked me, "Am I allowed to buy it?"
"No," I said as expressionlessly as possible. She bought Travis' The Invisible Band instead. We walked home through a sweet-smelling evening, and everything was lovely, for a time. Everything is not perfect, because my mp3 player appears to be broken. Well, either it's broken or its charger is, and I'm desperately hoping the latter is the case. I can but wait and see.
And that is all.
Anyway. At least I don't have a great deal of homework for tonight. In fact, I have very little homework (touchwood) compared to GCSE, so far. I would have had an essay, but this morning, the English rooms were being decorated for Open Morning on Saturday, so we were told to take the essay titles away with us and do them somewhere else. I stopped by the kitchen, made a mug of coffee and then realised there was no milk. So Gemma and I went down to the actual kitchens, got the milk and went back up. It all took up time, but I did have the allotted hour for the essay. I took my coffee up to the library, dug out the poems from the anthology, scribbled away in pencil and then in fountain pen, and actually enjoyed myself. Last year, I found lit essays the hardest thing in the world. They're still not exactly easy, but it's a very real example of practice making closer to perfect. I won't ever be able to do a lit essay with the ease of a language essay, but it's getting better. And I scribbled five minutes into lunch and handed it in. Voila.
Danny came up to the common room after lunch. Gemma, Meg and Kat are making life very uncomfortable for poor Verena. It was nice to see Danny again, though. Before he came, Gemma asked me about him, what did he look like, etc, and when I hesitated she said, "Let's put it this way. Would you..." - and some rather explicit hand gestures.
"No," I said. "Gay best friend, on the other hand..."
Danny is not, as far as I know, gay, but he certainly plays the gay best friend role for
cucharita. Which is all besides the point. After a while, he and Verena left the common room for some peace and quiet. I don't blame them. When they were gone, Rosie and co. suddenly decided they wanted to talk to me. "Was that Verena's boyfriend? What year's he in? What's his name?"
I took a certain perverse pleasure in withholding information.
Following all the excitement, I started falling asleep in Politics. Woke up for the debate on America, though. No-one is a fan of Bush, it seems. When asked, I explained the concept of the Pledge of Allegiance, and I asked Mr Evans why the Americans are so patriotic, and he considered and said some stuff about all Americans having immigrated at some point, so they need something to pull them together and that something is the flag. General consensus - America is a strange country.
After school, Becca wanted to go to Quirk's in the village to buy a CD. I noticed that Quirk's in Crosby is next door to Pritchard's - exactly the same as Quirk's and Pritchard's in Formby. And there is a Mr Pritchard. Becca and I both found this unaccountably amusing. We spent some time in the shop (Thomas came in, cue groaning from Becca) and she was going to buy Coldplay's Parachutes. However, she is nothing if not quick on the uptake, and asked me, "Am I allowed to buy it?"
"No," I said as expressionlessly as possible. She bought Travis' The Invisible Band instead. We walked home through a sweet-smelling evening, and everything was lovely, for a time. Everything is not perfect, because my mp3 player appears to be broken. Well, either it's broken or its charger is, and I'm desperately hoping the latter is the case. I can but wait and see.
And that is all.