Blowing bubbles
May. 19th, 2005 05:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ravenI had the morning off today because I had no lessons, and while I did accidentally miss an examination briefing (oops?) I went in at lunchtime without any adverse effects, and dragged ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
eternalwings into lunch with me. She's a little blue because I go tomorrow and Miranda has already gone; as I have said before, it's a geek hierarchy and she is currently at the top of it. She just needs to recruit more geeks.
Sarah wandered into the library later and yelled, "Loser! At last, someone I know!"
"I'm glad to hear it," I said sombrely, and moved over so she could share floorspace by the radiator.
"Where were you?" she demanded.
"In bed," I said succinctly.
"You missed the gossip!"
Obviously I insisted she tell all. Apparently Claire Matthews and others of equally low-to-middling IQ had been suspended for doing handbrake turns and throwing water balloons in the boys' school car park. I was amused. They're not allowed to come in tomorrow, which means I never have to see any of them again in my life.
We were all agreed that this is a good thing. She said, "See you with the custard," and left me. I took a moment to realise what she was talking about. Today was Mrs Colvin's day for fun practicals, so we arrived at the lab, dumped our bags on chairs and tables and then perched ourselves on the edges of said chairs and tables in attitudes of studied nonchalance.
Well, have you ever wondered what happens when you bubble methane through washing-up liquid then set fire to it?
Sarah and I went first, and she turned the gas tap the wrong way while I launched a lighted spill at the mass of bubbles. I nearly lost my eyebrows, with a shriek of laughter from the others. Becky filmed Mrs Colvin doing one and we all convulsed at the end of it - entirely without noticing, she set off a fireball, flicked back the spill and blew it out exactly like a smoking gun.
Then, we tried sugar in conc sulphuric. "It's a bit phallic, this one," commented Mrs Colvin.
Also pokeable, I said. Caramelised acid, that's what it is. We also did a mini volcano, which was absolutely brilliant (ammonium dichromate) but didn't photograph well. Then came the exploding custard powder:
And while we were doing it we were chatting and reminiscing and generally wrapping up seven years, and two years of being an A-level Chemistry class. She gave us each cards (mine has "See you on University Challenge!") and said, finally, "I've only had one group as interesting as you, and they were much bigger. You were a hand-picked bunch." On a more prosaic note, she added: "The Lower Sixth are boring!"
Mrs Colvin holds forth; Laura wants to kill herself:
Steph and Mrs Colvin trying to out-glam each other:
Chemgeeks, minus Fidan (and yours truly, who took the pic):
And it might have been our last Chemistry lesson, but it didn't feel like a lesson and we were all a bit loath to leave. I eventually fetched up at the library and moaned extensively at Sam. "I don't wanna leave and you can't make me!" and suchlike.
When I went to the Biology lab, there was food all over the place. Julie was there for some reason, and she swore us all to secrecy - she's planning to show bits of the U5 pop concert in assembly tomorrow. Hence some battling with Rice-Oxley to borrow the video for a bit. We watched a bit of it, laughing and attracting the attention of everyone in the building, before settling down to the serious business of eating more pie. And ice-cream. And chocolate. This has been the most fattening week ever.
Those plastic cups are full of sweets. We've been doing this at the end of every week for a year, and have practice. And yes, this is a functioning biology lab. Lord knows what chemicals we must have ingested over the last twelve months.
Once we'd settled in with the food, Rice-Oxley asked for a moment of hush. "I had a speech," she said, "but I've forgotten it now. You are not the most hard-working group I've ever had, nor the easiest, but you've been the most enjoyable group I've ever had. I loved teaching you."
Hands up who was sniffling at the back!
"And I've gathered a few prizes and things for you." She reached into the bag on the table. "For Steph, a prize for being most colourful."
Steph was handed a small tissue-wrapped package, which she tearfully accepted.
"For Sarah, a prize for seeing every facet of a situation." It was a kaleidoscope!
"For Meg, a prize for turning up to every lesson!" And Meg was bawling at the small Dougal-from-the-Magic-Roundabout figure she was given.
Jenna was "most bouncy" (a bouncy ball!) and Laura had the best concentration! (She got one of those mini ball-bearing puzzles.)
"Iona, for always having new words and fresh ideas." She gave me a mini-box of Scattergories.
"And Rola, larger than life!"
Rola immediately burst into tears. I've never seen her cry before and I suspect will never see her cry again, but tough, cheerful, can-yell-like-a-drill-sergeant Rola (she had "army dudette" on the back of her t-shirt!) was sobbing brokenly onto Steph's shoulder. I don't think it would have taken much to send us all off.
Rice-Oxley popped out for a minute, and while she was gone, someone asked, "Do you remember how much we hated her?"
I do remember, looking back; we were threatening to complain if we had to have her out as our teacher. How times do change.
After we'd all stopped crying:
From left, Jenna, Meg, me hiding, Steph, Rice-Oxley, Becky O on the top, Sarah, Laura and Rola.
And one of Julie fighting with Rice-Oxley, because it was amusing:
The girl we'd grabbed from the corridor to take the pictures ran off, leaving us to quietly tidy up and drift away. I helped wipe down the tables and throw away the party debris, and then people went off to catch buses and to the gym. Sarah, Laura and I were the last to leave, walking slowly out of the lab and down the corridor in a measured sort of dream. Julie came running up to me in the quad to hand me my yearbook, and later on, Anjali stopped me to say I'd got a card from Mrs Myring and which did I like better, pink or purple?
She gave me nail varnish!
Outside, Laura and I walked down to Blundellsands and got thoroughly nostalgic. In a moment of dazed incompetence, I walked out of the lab with its entire supply of napkins, which made me laugh; a good thing, because otherwise I would have cried.
Formal leavers' lunch tomorrow, and in the meantime I shall never sit in a lesson with the chemgeeks again, nor do a practical nor be yelled at for not doing my homework; I'm never going to be a schoolgirl again.
[I apologise for the increasingly mawkish tone of these posts (there's another one tomorrow!) but I can't help myself; I really do feel like I'm drawing to a significant conclusion, and this is my journal.]
eternalwings into lunch with me. She's a little blue because I go tomorrow and Miranda has already gone; as I have said before, it's a geek hierarchy and she is currently at the top of it. She just needs to recruit more geeks. Sarah wandered into the library later and yelled, "Loser! At last, someone I know!"
"I'm glad to hear it," I said sombrely, and moved over so she could share floorspace by the radiator.
"Where were you?" she demanded.
"In bed," I said succinctly.
"You missed the gossip!"
Obviously I insisted she tell all. Apparently Claire Matthews and others of equally low-to-middling IQ had been suspended for doing handbrake turns and throwing water balloons in the boys' school car park. I was amused. They're not allowed to come in tomorrow, which means I never have to see any of them again in my life.
We were all agreed that this is a good thing. She said, "See you with the custard," and left me. I took a moment to realise what she was talking about. Today was Mrs Colvin's day for fun practicals, so we arrived at the lab, dumped our bags on chairs and tables and then perched ourselves on the edges of said chairs and tables in attitudes of studied nonchalance.
Well, have you ever wondered what happens when you bubble methane through washing-up liquid then set fire to it?
Sarah and I went first, and she turned the gas tap the wrong way while I launched a lighted spill at the mass of bubbles. I nearly lost my eyebrows, with a shriek of laughter from the others. Becky filmed Mrs Colvin doing one and we all convulsed at the end of it - entirely without noticing, she set off a fireball, flicked back the spill and blew it out exactly like a smoking gun.
Then, we tried sugar in conc sulphuric. "It's a bit phallic, this one," commented Mrs Colvin.
Also pokeable, I said. Caramelised acid, that's what it is. We also did a mini volcano, which was absolutely brilliant (ammonium dichromate) but didn't photograph well. Then came the exploding custard powder:
And while we were doing it we were chatting and reminiscing and generally wrapping up seven years, and two years of being an A-level Chemistry class. She gave us each cards (mine has "See you on University Challenge!") and said, finally, "I've only had one group as interesting as you, and they were much bigger. You were a hand-picked bunch." On a more prosaic note, she added: "The Lower Sixth are boring!"
Mrs Colvin holds forth; Laura wants to kill herself:
Steph and Mrs Colvin trying to out-glam each other:
Chemgeeks, minus Fidan (and yours truly, who took the pic):
And it might have been our last Chemistry lesson, but it didn't feel like a lesson and we were all a bit loath to leave. I eventually fetched up at the library and moaned extensively at Sam. "I don't wanna leave and you can't make me!" and suchlike.
When I went to the Biology lab, there was food all over the place. Julie was there for some reason, and she swore us all to secrecy - she's planning to show bits of the U5 pop concert in assembly tomorrow. Hence some battling with Rice-Oxley to borrow the video for a bit. We watched a bit of it, laughing and attracting the attention of everyone in the building, before settling down to the serious business of eating more pie. And ice-cream. And chocolate. This has been the most fattening week ever.
Those plastic cups are full of sweets. We've been doing this at the end of every week for a year, and have practice. And yes, this is a functioning biology lab. Lord knows what chemicals we must have ingested over the last twelve months.
Once we'd settled in with the food, Rice-Oxley asked for a moment of hush. "I had a speech," she said, "but I've forgotten it now. You are not the most hard-working group I've ever had, nor the easiest, but you've been the most enjoyable group I've ever had. I loved teaching you."
Hands up who was sniffling at the back!
"And I've gathered a few prizes and things for you." She reached into the bag on the table. "For Steph, a prize for being most colourful."
Steph was handed a small tissue-wrapped package, which she tearfully accepted.
"For Sarah, a prize for seeing every facet of a situation." It was a kaleidoscope!
"For Meg, a prize for turning up to every lesson!" And Meg was bawling at the small Dougal-from-the-Magic-Roundabout figure she was given.
Jenna was "most bouncy" (a bouncy ball!) and Laura had the best concentration! (She got one of those mini ball-bearing puzzles.)
"Iona, for always having new words and fresh ideas." She gave me a mini-box of Scattergories.
"And Rola, larger than life!"
Rola immediately burst into tears. I've never seen her cry before and I suspect will never see her cry again, but tough, cheerful, can-yell-like-a-drill-sergeant Rola (she had "army dudette" on the back of her t-shirt!) was sobbing brokenly onto Steph's shoulder. I don't think it would have taken much to send us all off.
Rice-Oxley popped out for a minute, and while she was gone, someone asked, "Do you remember how much we hated her?"
I do remember, looking back; we were threatening to complain if we had to have her out as our teacher. How times do change.
After we'd all stopped crying:
From left, Jenna, Meg, me hiding, Steph, Rice-Oxley, Becky O on the top, Sarah, Laura and Rola.
And one of Julie fighting with Rice-Oxley, because it was amusing:
The girl we'd grabbed from the corridor to take the pictures ran off, leaving us to quietly tidy up and drift away. I helped wipe down the tables and throw away the party debris, and then people went off to catch buses and to the gym. Sarah, Laura and I were the last to leave, walking slowly out of the lab and down the corridor in a measured sort of dream. Julie came running up to me in the quad to hand me my yearbook, and later on, Anjali stopped me to say I'd got a card from Mrs Myring and which did I like better, pink or purple?
She gave me nail varnish!
Outside, Laura and I walked down to Blundellsands and got thoroughly nostalgic. In a moment of dazed incompetence, I walked out of the lab with its entire supply of napkins, which made me laugh; a good thing, because otherwise I would have cried.
Formal leavers' lunch tomorrow, and in the meantime I shall never sit in a lesson with the chemgeeks again, nor do a practical nor be yelled at for not doing my homework; I'm never going to be a schoolgirl again.
[I apologise for the increasingly mawkish tone of these posts (there's another one tomorrow!) but I can't help myself; I really do feel like I'm drawing to a significant conclusion, and this is my journal.]
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no subject
on 2005-05-19 07:18 pm (UTC)I'm also jealous in a way, that your study leave starts this week.
no subject
on 2005-05-19 09:39 pm (UTC)Also - I spent seven years at a GDST school and never knew there was a hymn!
no subject
on 2005-05-19 09:56 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2005-05-20 05:52 am (UTC)no subject
on 2005-05-20 06:17 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2005-05-19 07:28 pm (UTC)Hmmm..........*sob howl*
no subject
on 2005-05-19 09:39 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2005-05-19 07:57 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2005-05-19 09:42 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2005-05-19 09:12 pm (UTC)I don't think you're being mawkish at all; this IS the closing of a significant part of your life and you're entitled to savor it. It's a big world out there but I'm certain you'll take it on with all the confidence and skill with which you've managed yourself thus far.
no subject
on 2005-05-19 09:43 pm (UTC)Thanks for the nice words. It's a brave new world out there... ;)
no subject
on 2005-05-19 09:29 pm (UTC)xx
no subject
on 2005-05-19 09:42 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2005-05-19 10:17 pm (UTC)I love the pictures of your school whenever you post them. They're windows into this world of Britishness that I've never seen (and thus I am always amazed when there are no differences between your school and mine, but then, I like looking at other American schools, too. I think it's my inner voyeur having a field-day.)
no subject
on 2005-05-20 06:07 pm (UTC)From what I've seen of them, the main difference between British and American schools is the relative size of them. My own school is about five times smaller, both in terms of people and floorspace, than my cousin-sister's school, and they serve similar areas. And then there is the quintessential Britishness of my school - the assemblies, the uniform, the common room, the tails, the full colours, the wartime cherry-trees, all that jazz.
no subject
on 2005-05-20 10:28 pm (UTC)I hope you enjoy your last few hours, they're what make up for the years of disgust beforehand.
no subject
on 2005-05-19 10:57 pm (UTC)Steph looks awful, & I think Colvin showed us the sugar in whatever thing. Or something similar.
no subject
on 2005-05-20 06:16 pm (UTC)Why do you think Steph looks awful? and yes, Mrs Colvin couldn't look younger. You wouldn't think she had grown-up kids.
no subject
on 2005-05-20 09:43 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2005-05-19 11:35 pm (UTC)Point being, write away. :-) We're very proud of you/happy for you.
no subject
on 2005-05-20 06:16 pm (UTC)