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April 30 We're Going On A Dress HuntSo, we're back in the front room again. BT has been doing very peculiar things recently - the router box is working perfectly, yet Internet access is really intermittent. That's to say it generally works, but it's slow, and every so often fails to connect altogether. MSN is usually quite a good indicator of what's happening - most of the time I'm on the computer I'm logged in, so if if starts disconnecting itself or taking ages to sign in, there's problems. And if you've got neighbours with a wireless connection that is unprotected and nearly always on (*shakes head in disbelief*), I reckon you might as well use it. It's not like I'm gonna be committing credit card fraud from their IP address or anything...
Today was designated for getting down to some STEP questions. However when I'd spent quite a long time stropping at the paper in front of me and getting nowhere, I decided to go into town and have a look for a ball dress! Nothing like ignoring your problems... I've just about convinced Mum that I can't wear the dress I had in Y10 (explanation below...), and that the average price is somewhat above £50, but I think she would draw the line at actually coming with me to get one, so I thought I might as well use the time now.
I haven't got anything, though I'm not hugely surprised. I saw a lot of dresses that were quite nice - but if you're going to spend a large amount of money on something like that, I'd rather have something a bit better than 'quite nice'. I didn't see anything that grabbed me - nothing that made me think, 'that is the dress' - and given that it's the end-of-school leaving prom, I'd like something special. I did try on one dress, in Monsoon. It was a gorgeous rose colour and was a good length, but it was strapless and let's just say that it was going to need a large amount of dress tape to keep my dignity intact. Being Monsoon, it was also gorgeously overpriced. So the hunt will continue...
Back in Y10 I got a dress of a similar ilk for the dinner at Aston Villa. When we bought it, it was to last me any special occasions that came up in the next few years, and Mum got quite narked this year when I mentioned that I would need another dress for the Leaver's Ball - the first one wasn't cheap, and I only wore it that once. As far as she was concerned, I could and should wear it again. What she hadn't allowed for was that I have grown since. It was a bit too short at the time, I seem to remember - since then I have grown not only upwards but outwards, and I don't care what she says, Debenhams do not put in reams of material to allow for taking things out.
So I have a very pretty dress which I will never wear again. It also will never fit my sister as she is a completely different shape to me (the lucky cow...). It is pale blue shimmery material, size 14, full length for anyone under 5'10" or so (or however tall I was in Y10), sparkly beads on the chest, corset-style lacing at the back, and it does have shoulder straps. If anyone needs (or knows anyone who needs) a dress like that, what with Proms coming up, get in touch with me and I'll send a picture. I've only worn it once, and it's been dry cleaned since. Obviously I won't be selling it at full price, but if I can make a little of the money back that I paid for it, it can go towards a new one. *looks hopefully*
'Course, this is where an ebay account could help... April 28 Still GoingI've been a grumpy cow in Classics recently. (I'm sure someone's now going to tell me that I've been a grumpy cow in general, but I haven't, or at least not consciously. Just in Classics.) I used to love it so much, I don't quite know what's gone wrong - until a good half way into L6 I was seriously considering it as a degree option, and taking up Latin in earnest again. Guess it must be the syllabus. People complain about Mr McDonald sending you to sleep - but why have I only experienced that this year, after six years of teaching from him? Who knows...
Basically, I made the mistake of calculating how much I need to get in each of his and Mr Middleton's modules. You try learning and revising mind-numbingly boring material for an exam where you know that you only need to get 51%. Maybe I need a shock to the system. Maybe I need to get a U on a practise essay, not deliberately, to prove that I do actually need to do some revision. Because if I don't do enough and I slip that 51% average, I am in big trouble - somewhere I need an additional A, and like hell am I relying on my other two subjects for that. I think that I kissed goodbye to the Music on Wednesday at the Conservatoire as it is.
I'm slowly adjusting, I think, to leaving school. The other day I was with someone I used to be relatively good friends with, and have never exactly fallen out with, just drifted apart from - and I realised that I had nothing to say. That isn't meant in an offensive way or anything, it's just that whatever I once had in common with this person wasn't enough to keep a lasting friendship. I think possibly the feeling was mutual. But it no longer bothers me like it once might have. You win some, you lose some. The close friends that you will keep are the ones who you might not see for ages, but when you do meet, it's like no time has passed and there's never a moment when you're lost for words. For the rest, you might cut the string, it might slip out of your hands. You might talk once or twice again, maybe even meet up, but gradually, they will form part of your past, along with everyone else who you meant to keep in touch with but never did. I guess the next few weeks are going to be about making sure that these people are remembered for the good times, not for the regrets and the 'what if's. April 27 Help NeededSo, nothing to do with school, exams, or anything like that. This is something I've been meaning to sort out for a while but have never quite got round to. I need a dummies' guide to ebay - I've read the stuff on the website, but there's still some bits and bobs I'm not sure of...
1) Do you have to pay to set up an account? I know you have to pay a listing fee for individual items, but is there a monthly (or even one-off) charge to have the account in your name?
2) Would you recommend using PayPal? Does the money go into your bank account or a separate 'e-account'? Do PayPal take a cut from the transaction?
3) Is there a lower limit for the number of items you sell? Will they you close your account if you don't buy/sell anything for x weeks/months?
Thanks in advance! April 25 *Deep Breath*Recital tomorrow. 30%. Not good. Gerard McGarry got a C for his last year. Not good.
I wish people would stop telling me I'll be fine. I know it's instinctive reassurance, and they don't want to tell me that I'll be crap, but I just know that I'll come out feeling like I've let all the well-wishers down. I've gotta keep calm, practise my awkward sections tonight, go in and do my best. Most of the people who have told me not to worry, that I'll be brilliant etc., really haven't got a clue what they're talking about. These things are a bitch. I'm good enough at playing the clarinet for most everyday purposes, grade 7 standard, but an examiner at the Conservatoire, of the ilk who gave Gez a C... Anyone who has heard him play will realise why I'm terrified. I hate performing to people like that at the best of times - I just go completely to pieces.
There's one good thing, I suppose. The alternative was an A2 French oral... April 23 The Deed Has Been DoneI've replied to UCAS. Cambridge firm, Durham insurance. No going back now.
The only thing that really worries me is that my insurance offer is so high - AAB, which is the same as most people's firm offers. I know that in theory I should get AAB, given that I already have the single Maths, and I'd have to do something pretty impressive to not get the Classics after AS, but there's always the nagging 'what if' scenarios. What if I slipped up on everything and I was left without a university place? What if all my other universities, having offered me lower grades, then refused to take me because they were full up with people who held them in the first place? I know that Maths isn't overpopular in the way that something like Medicine is, but if you apply to good universities then it becomes somewhat irrelevant. In other words, I just need to make damn sure that I don't slip up.
Mum and Peter return this afternoon. While it will be nice to not have to think about things like what vegetables we need to buy, it has been such a treat to have a quiet house. While I love Peter a lot, I don't like him very much at the moment. April 21 Save Your BattlesI finished 'Sense and Sensibility' while I was away. It occured to me when adding it to my book list that it's the first book in a long long time that I've read for fun. Not because it was prescribed by an exam board, not because I wanted my UCAS form to look good - because I felt like reading a book to relax, and for the sake of it. Note to self: must do so more. At least after the exams...
Today were the long-awaited booster classes - in my case, six solid hours of Maths with Mr Oakley. What really surprised me was the number of people that had come in. Not just the two sixth form Further Maths group - there was a Geography class, quite a lot of Y11s (for English and French and Art, at least) and hordes of Y9s, I assume for SATs booster classes. I'm told that the English department ran sixth form classes yesterday as well.
Don't get me wrong, I think it's fantastic that these lessons were being provided. Certainly in our case, we got some really useful work done - work that I wouldn't want to have missed, or have had to do on another occasion. Credit to the staff as well, for whom it was clearly less optional, and who must have spent ages doing prep. But I do question whether every class was 100% necessary. Fair enough for people doing external exams or finishing off large pieces of important coursework. That extra six hours could, and in a lot of cases probably did, make the difference between finishing the course and not finishing the course - but is dragging Y9s in to do work for SATs really a productive use of the holidays?
I worked hard for my SATs. At the time it mattered to me, because it was the highest level of assessment on offer and I guess it was a matter of pride how well I did or didn't do. I remember doing a practice paper for English extension in a rented cottage in the Yorkshire Dales - as it happens, I failed the paper altogether, coming out with a Level 7, so I needn't have bothered. But no-one has taken me up on it since. Prospective employers will be much more concerned with my A* at GCSE than not getting a Level 8 in Y9. SATs are not qualifications in the sense that GCSEs are - and they should be treated with an appropriate level of contempt. No-one in our school is in the position where they cannot string a coherent sentence together - and if they were, would six hours extra schooling really change that? I think not. April 19 Switerland Take 2Rachel and I got back yesterday after 10 days in the land of the Swiss people. Mum and Peter are still out there for another 5 days, but we've got sooo much stuff to sort out (and in my case, a day of school to attend) that we came back early by ourselves *feels big and grown up...*
I'll put the photos up asap. It was a new experience to not be limited to 36 pictures on a film, so I think I may have gone a lil OTT - after deleting rubbish shots, duplicates, and transferring the pictures for Rachel's art project, I've got 299 photos..! But my camera is so little and light now that I can literally put it in my coat pocket without noticing, and I kept going *ooo! pretty mountain with snow on! - click*, *ooo! another pretty mountain with snow on! - click*. You get the idea! But the scenery was so breathtaking it seemed a shame not to, especially as I could just delete anything I didn't want afterwards.
Highlights of the holiday included...
Two days' toboganning, in separate locations. I have the bruises to prove it, though I only actually came off once (face forward, flat out into snowdrift!). Peter, on the other hand, could have made us a mint from 'You've Been Framed', had only I had been quicker off the mark. We were at a point on a toboggan run where it crossed the skiers' slope (or 'piste', as I am informed it is called). Peter was demonstrating to one edge the best way to fall off your toboggan, and was generally rolling about in the snow, when he let go of his toboggan lead. Guess which way it went..! And guess which way Peter sprinted off after it, into the far distance when it didn't stop! I think some kindly skier must have stopped it, because half an hour later, Dad was spotted climbing up a drift to an upturned toboggan by a pylon. The rest of us had finally stopped laughing and started off again down an adjacent path on the hill, so all was well again - but we'd rented with a fairly large deposit, so that could have been an expensive mistake!
As part of the rental terms of our apartment (which, to use estate-agent speak, was distinctly 'cosy'), we got unlimited access to the sports centre in the centre of Grindelwald. The swimming pool was gorgeous, with a spotless changing area that had these large dryers - you stood under one, pressed the button, and it blasted warrm air at your hair and the top part of your body simultaneously. For people with long thick hair that takes years to dry, this really was a godsend. There was also a skating rink, much to Peter's delight. Now I've been ice skating a couple of times before, but it doesn't come naturally, and I spent the entire hour clinging to the wall, trying not to loose my balance. I am not exaggerating when I say that there were two-yr-olds there who were better than I was. However, I reckon the two-yr-olds had a distinct advantage in that a) you learn things much quicker when you're two b) they had helmets and big padded suits and c) their centre of gravity was distinctly lower than mine. Which helps!
The public transport was, as ever, exemplary. Not just the connecting trains, the cleanliness, the low level of noise pollution etc - even the cable cars and a funicular railway worked without hassle. One day we got a train up to what claims itself to be the highest accessible point in Europe - at over 4000m, I wouldn't like to contradict. I dread to think what engineering feats must have been involved, but if the Swiss are capable of such amazing transport over such difficult terrain, why can't the English sort out buses in Birmingham? Maybe the answer's as pure and simple as population density, but I'm not entirely convinced.
Grindelwald's very tourist-orientated. I know that we were tourists as much as the next, but the gimmicks got tiring very quickly, and it was a bit weird to have come to Switzerland then find that a large proportion of the people about you are in fact Japenese. However, if you went off the tourist trail - got off the train early, for example, and walked down for a bit - the peace and quiet was amazing. The air was very clear, and even when it hadn't snowed that day, there was a sort of magical quality to everything, if only you went a little bit further to find it.
One comment about the Alps: they are cold. It was mid-April, but once you got above a certain height, it was absolutely bitter. This is from someone who had thick layers of clothes and waterproofs, doesn't normally feel the cold, and had come off a warm train. Hannibal was a f***ing looney bin, and I don't think I've ever appreciated the fact more!
We spent a night at Dad's flat in Zurich on the way back, and showed Rachel ETH and all the other places that we saw in February (she was on a hockey tour to Holland at the time). Zurich looked completely different when it wasn't enveloped by a snow blizzard, and it was quite nice to be back somewhere familiar before travelling home the next day - the others left again for the mountains after dropping Rachel and I at the airport.
It was very very beautiful, and it was good to see Dad again... but it's good to be home! April 07 The InevitableLast end-of-term assembly, ever! Should be a cause for celebration really, but it's not. It's yet another indication that the end of school is drawing nigh - and I really really don't want that to happen, to the extent that my standard response to when someone mentions it has become 'La la la, not listening, don't wanna know!'.
A lot of people I know say that they simply can't wait to get out, and what's more, I think that they actually mean it. They're bored of the routine, find that school irritates them in a way it didn't used to, and they just want to move onto the next thing, which in the vast majority of cases is university. It's true that there are some things I won't miss either. I won't miss the pettiness of some of the school rules - the obsessive locking of form rooms, for instance, or not being allowed to walk through the foyer at lunchtime, just because. I won't miss the sixth form dress code (or rather Miss Cornell's interpretation of). I won't miss the incompetence of Travel West Midlands on a twice-daily basis. I certainly won't miss some of the people that have irritated me over the years, teachers and fellow pupils alike. At school if someone annoys you, you still have to go to lessons with them. They will be in the library/sixth form common room at the same time, and maybe even on the bus home, because out of necessity everyone has pretty much the same routine. At university you can just walk away, and there's a part of me which looks forward to that sort of freedom.
But I still don't want to leave. I think a large part of it is nostalgic, rather than a practical desire - coming back next year would be tough, with most of my friends having moved on (not to mention Miss), and being forced to do the same exams and stuff all over again - but seven years is a long time to be part of something. As a general rule I've enjoyed school. Yes, a scarily large part of it has been spent depressed/stressed/pissed off (delete as appropriate), but I've enjoyed the lessons. I've enjoyed meeting people, all the activities (music and otherwise), the sense of belonging. In a weird way, I've enjoyed the journey over as well - getting the bus has given me much more independence and confidence than a daily lift ever could, and I am constantly grateful for the fact that school is on the edge of the countryside, next to wide open fields and a reservoir rather than stuck in the middle of town with Spaghetti Junction for company.
Another thing that I've liked is the structure and security that school gives you. When I was off ill for three weeks in the October of L6, people noticed. My teachers all knew (with the exception of Middleton, that is. "Why haven't you done the essay on Solon?" "Because I've been off since you started the Aristotle, sir." "Really?"), my friends were supportive, and even Mr Collier, who I'd never spoken to before, occasionally checked that I was catching up all right. At university, you are one of thousands. If you don't turn up to lectures, no-one will know/care, and it's up to you to sort it out for yourself. I guess that's why my top two choices are collegiate universities - the security of belonging to a smaller unit.
There are things that I would have done differently, had I known. I'd've got a bit more socially advanced before Y7, the reputation from which has sadly seemed to stick with me 'til this day. I'd've taken it on board when they said that grades didn't matter - not just in the theoretical but in the practical as well. I'd've told the endless stream of crushes that I liked them, rather than trying to hide it and get on with it. In fact, I'm no better with that now - I should have told ____ before he got a girlfriend, and before I felt really awkward trying (and failing) to impress him, like a 13-yr-old again.
I don't want to leave! Much as this year has been horribly stressful at times, I don't want it to end. I don't want to have to say goodbye to people who I will never see again, say goodbye to a whole seven-years-worth of memories and good times. I don't want that to have been the last time to sit on the stage, pretending to be interested in the assembly, the last time to sing that horrendous school song. I don't want it to be the last time we have a lesson with Miss, or the last free in the library with our little group of C-block-free people.
I think that's why I've been so depressed recently. It's a little thing of mine, I don't like change. It scares me. April 06 Aujourd'huiThings that have happened today...
I'm gonna stop there, I'm too tired to be upright.. April 03 All Things MusicyI'm in a better mood now, thankfully. I now feel quite justified in labelling 'Carol' as condescending and a snob, and telling the examiner to get a haircut, or at least a GPS system in his car. Carol is the woman who's house was being used for the exams - a 'colleague' (as he puts it terribly delicately) of Roy's (my clarinet teacher). It's not a small house, in Moseley, with some of the most pretentious 'features' about and a heating system which made me expire on walking through the door. Not good for playing a wind instrument. There were a couple of other women sitting about when I first went in, another teacher and a parent or something, and they epitomised all that gives classical music its stuck-up reputation. Plus, who has a heavy dark hardwood double-sided music stand? Talk about intimidating...
The examiner was running 15 mins late, having got lost on his way there. Which I suppose isn't such a great crime really, just annoying 'cos it meant that I missed the first two songs in the afternoon re-run of Bugsy Malone, which I wouldn't have done had he been on time. C'est la vie, I guess. Bugsy went ok - as good as you could expect, really, a month after anyone had last performed it - and my eight bars were exemplary! I think most of the jokes went over the kids' heads though. They laughed loudest when Fat Sam called someone a 'manure-head', which just about says it all, but I guess you can't expect nine-yr-olds to appreciate a character like Tallulah!
Tomorrow is the Spring Concert - my last school concert ever
 . I really want it to be amazing, just so I've got the memory to go with me when I leave! I've put so much work into that music dept for seven years - but it's been so enjoyable, and worth every minute! Without wanting to lick arses, both Miss and Boris have been 100% incredible, and I know they won't be reading this (God forbid...) but I know that I've got a lot to thank them for, and I hope they realise that. Of course, it's Miss' last one as well! I'm so gonna be in tears by the end of the night!If anyone feels like supporting, it starts at 7.30, and will probably last a couple of hours with an interval. There's gonna be some amazing music, so it'd be great to see people there!
Anyone would think I was going for a Music course! *Gulps*****. Messed that one up nicely. I had my Grade 7 clarinet exam today. Frustrating in itself when you consider that I did Grade 6 exactly three years ago, but there you go. It's not my fault that I've had about five different teachers in the meantime.
I've practised so much recently. The pieces didn't get 100% perfect but I was relatively confident about at least two out of three, so that should have been ok. And actually the Brahms was, which I'm really pleased about, 'cos it is an amazingly gorgeous piece and the one that I absolutely have to use for my A2 recital. But the Lutoslawski went wrong in the middle and downhill from there, and the study was just horrendous. Yes, I tried not to get nervous - but my god it's difficult not to, and once you're in a state, you're never going to play your best.
I reckon I'll have passed, but nothing more. 110, for those of you who know the scoring system? Maybe. April 01 April FoolThere is one thing you can be sure of if you live with a ten year old - and that is that come April 1st, the entire morning will be spent peering round doorways, just to check there isn't anything concealed the other side. I say April 1st - having someone jump out at you from a cupboard or a pile of coats is not limited to any particular day of the year; it was from the alcove in my bedroom yesterday. But April Fool's Day is particularly dangerous, simply because that is the day when it is practically law for little brothers to play pranks.
I have to say, Peter managed to excel himself this morning, if only in effort invested! His ruse to get me out of bed (where I was having a very comfortable lie-in, damn him) worked a treat, even if Rachel and I managed to get our own back by convincing him that the guy who runs his football team had left a 1571 message asking if he could be at the field for a match at 9.30!
Most of his attempts were however, much to his disappointment, a lil bit more obvious! Mum found the Rice Krispies (in the All Bran packet), I found the Weetabix (with the chopped tomatoes in the cupboard), and I didn't even notice the plastic spider he put on the table to try and scare me. I'm told that Mum found a similar maggot on the piano, though it was sufficiently cheap plastic to not cause too much concern. The cushion propped on the door didn't work - mainly because we watched him trying to put it up there for five minutes, before he demostrated what had been meant to happen, tripping over himself in the process - and neither did the clever ploy of swapping the microwave plug for the breadmaker plug. This latter failed simply because, despite his *subtle* entreaties, none of us wanted hot chocolate at half ten in the morning.
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