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ravenI don't think I can write about leaving just yet. I'm not sure I know how I feel about it. I was late for school this morning, just in time to see Becca moshing to Queen ("Don't stop me now!") in assembly. The assembly itself was a random assortment of in-jokes and manic laughter that probably made no sense whatsoever to the lower school, but I don't think that matters; on this day of all days, the lower school don't figure so much.
Afterwards came an hour and a half of yearbook signing, more chocolate than there has ever been ever and the beginnings of tears.
Illogically, the Lower Sixth have the upper common room and the Upper Sixth have the lower common room; as well as the lower one, which is tiny, we also have the study room. Famously, no-one has ever studied there. Seen above, manky, foetid and home.
It was actually very very pretty when we'd finished with it.
The other matter of import was the leavers' t-shirts. I didn't have one because I didn't know what to put on it, but I did have my own geek t-shirt with the Enterprise in profile so I didn't feel left out.
Sarah on the left, Fidan on the right. I loved those t-shirts.
Outside, Becky O had been busy with the chalk.
I stood on the old stone bench to take that picture - this was the fourth attempt - and they had laughed themselves into oblivion by the end of it. Following which, we went to the library. "Mrs Barry, we're here to take pictures of you!" I announced, and she looked peeved.
That was taken in the entrance to the old building, in front of the library office, where I have basically lived in for years. I can't bear it.
The chemgeeks had to go to maths after that; on a whim, I tagged along. When Mrs Jopling looked surprised to see me, I said, "I've decided to take up maths," and sat down with the others.
She laughed. "Finally you've seen sense! You should have taken maths all along!"
I was laughing, too. "If I had taken maths," I said, "I would have cried for two years straight."
"No, you wouldn't," she said firmly. "Maybe the first month."
Later on, she even gave me cake, despite my protesting I wasn't actually in her class. I was with her for GCSE, which she said was good enough. The cake was, as expected, delicious; I think perhaps it's a pre-requirement for all my teachers to be expert cooks.
I asked Mrs Jopling what she did on her last day. "It was forty years ago! I went to a boarding school, and I remember cutting up my school uniform and throwing it out of the windows on the train home." After a moment, she added, "Maybe it's still there. Being eaten by sheep."
It was midday. Time for lunch.
The tables were arranged around the centenary hall, with the buffet on one side with everyone inviting us to dig in. Mrs Stubbs in particular was keen everyone should be well fed. "Come back for seconds!" she said. I didn't, but I did have pudding twice - a chocolate brownie the first time and strawberries the second.
When I was carefully making my way across the room with a wine glass in one hand, I met Mr Evans coming the other way, also holding a wine glass.
"I'll miss you, comrade," he said.
Clink!
Even Branton, who is a raging Tory (and this was her t-shirt!):
-professed to missing me. "Socialist," she hissed in my ear when hugging me.
"Horse-thief," I said mildly back.
All around the hall, people were getting up to say goodbye to each other and to their teachers. All the ones I met were so encouraging, so sweet, and a few of them did get up to dance in the end, which was curiously affecting.
We had to leave in the end. Help tidy up, stand up and walk to the door-
-to the strains of Don't Stop Me Now (I'm having such a good time). I brought Sarah and Laura home with me, and we sat on my floor and chatted about old times, but it's not, it's never, ever going to be the same again.
Afterwards came an hour and a half of yearbook signing, more chocolate than there has ever been ever and the beginnings of tears.
Illogically, the Lower Sixth have the upper common room and the Upper Sixth have the lower common room; as well as the lower one, which is tiny, we also have the study room. Famously, no-one has ever studied there. Seen above, manky, foetid and home.
It was actually very very pretty when we'd finished with it.
The other matter of import was the leavers' t-shirts. I didn't have one because I didn't know what to put on it, but I did have my own geek t-shirt with the Enterprise in profile so I didn't feel left out.
Sarah on the left, Fidan on the right. I loved those t-shirts.
Outside, Becky O had been busy with the chalk.
I stood on the old stone bench to take that picture - this was the fourth attempt - and they had laughed themselves into oblivion by the end of it. Following which, we went to the library. "Mrs Barry, we're here to take pictures of you!" I announced, and she looked peeved.
That was taken in the entrance to the old building, in front of the library office, where I have basically lived in for years. I can't bear it.
The chemgeeks had to go to maths after that; on a whim, I tagged along. When Mrs Jopling looked surprised to see me, I said, "I've decided to take up maths," and sat down with the others.
She laughed. "Finally you've seen sense! You should have taken maths all along!"
I was laughing, too. "If I had taken maths," I said, "I would have cried for two years straight."
"No, you wouldn't," she said firmly. "Maybe the first month."
Later on, she even gave me cake, despite my protesting I wasn't actually in her class. I was with her for GCSE, which she said was good enough. The cake was, as expected, delicious; I think perhaps it's a pre-requirement for all my teachers to be expert cooks.
I asked Mrs Jopling what she did on her last day. "It was forty years ago! I went to a boarding school, and I remember cutting up my school uniform and throwing it out of the windows on the train home." After a moment, she added, "Maybe it's still there. Being eaten by sheep."
It was midday. Time for lunch.
The tables were arranged around the centenary hall, with the buffet on one side with everyone inviting us to dig in. Mrs Stubbs in particular was keen everyone should be well fed. "Come back for seconds!" she said. I didn't, but I did have pudding twice - a chocolate brownie the first time and strawberries the second.
When I was carefully making my way across the room with a wine glass in one hand, I met Mr Evans coming the other way, also holding a wine glass.
"I'll miss you, comrade," he said.
Clink!
Even Branton, who is a raging Tory (and this was her t-shirt!):
-professed to missing me. "Socialist," she hissed in my ear when hugging me.
"Horse-thief," I said mildly back.
All around the hall, people were getting up to say goodbye to each other and to their teachers. All the ones I met were so encouraging, so sweet, and a few of them did get up to dance in the end, which was curiously affecting.
We had to leave in the end. Help tidy up, stand up and walk to the door-
-to the strains of Don't Stop Me Now (I'm having such a good time). I brought Sarah and Laura home with me, and we sat on my floor and chatted about old times, but it's not, it's never, ever going to be the same again.
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no subject
on 2005-05-21 04:29 am (UTC)Also, I am such an ass: I forgot to comment on your BSG fic and tell you how much I liked it. It came out really nicely.
no subject
on 2005-05-21 01:54 pm (UTC)And thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I still am not fond of it and am debating whether to take it offline at a later date.