Friday, November 21, 1980

Friday November 21st

I got up at about twenty past seven and went almost immediately, without any breakfast or even tea. It was still half-light; I like that time in a morning; and when I reached school at about 7.35 a.m. it was empty except for the cleaners.

I set the chairs out and was helped by Duncan and Richard Houlding when they arrived ten minutes after me. Pearson arrived at eight and Tommy Whelan, Michelle Cliff and Jeremy ten minutes after. Julie C. was the last to arrive, apart from Lee who rolled in at 8.20.

We were a bit pushed for time so we get ready quickly. The play went off well and got the best response of any of the years; all the laughs in the right places. Barkston was watching this performance, as was Mr. Ingham, and unfortunately Lee swore (“bloody”) towards the end of the play. Technically everything went well and it was generally agreed that today’s was the best performance.

After getting all cleaned up and changed, I got into English late. We were still discussing the use of studying Literature and we ended up by comparing the value and entertainment of Ian Fleming and Wm Shakespeare. From then on, I had the usual hated Biology, in which we did an experiment involving yeast and the sugars fructose, galactose and glucose. It didn’t work and anyway, even if it had, it wouldn’t have told me a great deal.

We went on first lunch at twelve and at dinnertime something occurred which really flustered me. Deborah Blakey asked me, Jeremy, Duncan and Lee if we wanted to go up to her house (122 Croft Manor Avenue) tomorrow (“suppertime, between seven and half-past” just to have a “coffee and a chat” as she put it). I must’ve blushed immediately because Lee mentioned it. Jeremy, pompous sod that he is, thought it beneath his dignity and declined but I accepted. Blush, blush.

I spent my hour of theory for Biology only half-listening; I was too busy thinking. I’ve gone on about wanting an opportunity like this for weeks and now its come I can hardly wait. Pearson is going up too. Sounds shallow I know but so what!?

In a way though I’m scared of making a berk of myself by taking it too seriously – no mention of it was made in afternoon registration and I was left feeling doubtful. Will it seem to others (ie Lee, Duncan) that I’m being over eager? I’ll have to ring Deborah or Duncan up. Also, I felt such a fool for blushing like that, making it obvious what, subconsciously or otherwise, I thought. It must’ve been so bloody obvious!

I got home at three and Dad was in. He’d gone off sick because he feels ill (obviously) and thinks his cold has something to do with him shaving his beard off, which he did earlier this week.

Another mundane, utterly boring evening sat watching the television. I came to bed at nine thirty out of sheer boredom more than anything else.

Tomorrow, what should I do? I’ll go probably but I feel that Lee will see it as me fancying Blakey.

I go on about others being morons, but rereading the above I am just as obsessed with trivia and irrelevancies as people I criticise.

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