Empty

Today felt special somehow, whether because it was the last day of term or the Shuttle launch, I don’t know, but I felt it as soon as I woke up. The bright morning sun probably helped. All day, everything felt so temporary, as if everyone was just biding their time. Lee and Claire started their Geography Field trip to Boggle Hole today and are gone until Tuesday; I saw them fleetingly at registration.

I slaved away all morning writing up my History essay. After dinner Jeremy and I rushed back to my house to see the Shuttle launch, which was scheduled for just before one. Andrew was already watching it and I felt growing excitement as T-0 approached. Fifteen minutes to go, then fourteen, ten-and-a-half, and then at 9 minutes out a hold that dragged on and on and at ten after two we had to leave. School was packed out with sweaty shouting fifths and everyone was either watching or talking about the launch. Ingham came up demanding his essays and then school was over; I think it’s sad to see a school empty, the long, silent corridors that only an hour before were full of noise, bustle and life.

When I got home I found out that the launch had been delayed "at least 81 minutes" and, inevitably, it was eventually put off until Sunday, maybe even Monday. What an anti-climax. Sunday would be good though, for that would coincide exactly with the anniversary of Gagarin’s 1961 Vostok 1 launch.

Wrapped up in thoughts all evening.

Socialisation

In English we did no work whatsoever and instead spent an hour listening to Mrs. Slicer relating tales of her St. Trinian's past. Then, instead of a lesson from Hirst, all the sixth and seventh formers packed into B8 for a lecture, “Marxism and History” by Dr. Whittaker from Whincliffe.

His talk was pretty obscure and obtuse and people seemed to turn off almost from the moment he began. Many of the terms he used went unexplained and within minutes people were fidgeting, doodling and, eventually, sleeping. Mr. Elson fell asleep and I noted at least three others sleeping too. Although I found it all a bit tedious some points were interesting, especially his point about the ‘socialisation’ of capitalism, which pointed to his acceptance of an evolutionary transition from capitalism to socialism. He mentioned ICI, saying that socialism in that case would merely be a change of ownership. I didn’t agree. The Historians had to wait behind for half-an-hour or so and I asked a question about the inevitability of socialism.

In Art we had a 50-question test, which, if I’d revised, would have been fairly easy. As it was I left six questions blank and then half-ran, half-walked back to school for the staff v ex-pupils rugby match. It was really warm and I was sweating like mad when I got there, and everyone was already changing.

I was given a green and white shirt and told I was playing for the staff. There were about forty people watching including Barkston, Flatters, Simon D., Sean Barker, Robin Q., and some of our sixth form girls. Before the match started both teams had their photos taken by Scott. I had a crummy game, and for long periods I could only walk around after the ball. Only the sight of all those spectators spurred me to run. Occasionally I did get hold of the ball and fumbled it out to Andy or Farrar, but I made a lot of forward passes and my most blatant and embarrassing error came near the end when the ball fell nearby, was kicked past me, and I gave chase, bringing the man to a halt by hanging on to his arm. Christ I was cringing! It was just an impulsive, involuntary thing and was made worse by his indignant cries. We won 13-9 after trailing 3-4 at half-time, and everyone said that I’d played well and if I hadn’t fouled when I did we would’ve lost.

Afterwards, we all piled into various cars and went up into the country somewhere to the The Anchor Inn, where we had a private room hired. I had two pints of Best and after talking with Mrs Newsholme, Ingham, and Mr. Scott I wandered over and sat with Robin Q. and Steve, even talking with Carol Lancaster, Lynn Norden, Tracey Booth and other unapproachables. I began to really enjoy myself, and Elson bought me another pint for my ‘match-winning’ efforts before we left at last-orders.

Dread

I had an incredibly vivid dream. Claire discovered this diary; meanwhile I was constantly hanging around, a fixture, part of the background, which must say something about my inferiority complex. Ingham took the assembly, which was quite a cutting one about sixth formers who attempt to ‘acquire’ personalities through images. The message was; ‘Be yourself’. In one of our three free periods, Darren Busfield threw an apple core at Laxton, which missed, bounced off a work surface, missed Claire by inches and whacked Duncan in the left eye. English pleasantly anonymous; nothing much happened. It was really warm today, and school smelled of freshly cut grass.

It was an idle evening and I was overcome with an incredible feeling of claustrophobia. I’m just so BORED!!! I never do anything different, and I’m full of dread at the thought of the upcoming fortnight of sheer, unremitting tedium, imprisoned inside with no prospect of doing anything different whatsoever. I got about half-way through my Russo-German essay.

Profitless

In History I took notes on The Social Basis of Stalinism by Roy A. Medvedev. During dinnertime, C. sat next to me, which I enjoyed (crap!). After school we watched Mickey Mouse: The First Fifty Years and Hazel O’Connor’s Breaking Glass; the latter was excellent and I left feeling grumpy and anarchic, despite the good weather.

I spent the evening profitlessly tossing around, talking on the phone with Jeremy, who knows C. once fancied him. Space Shuttle countdown advances – T-2d 13h 15m.

Non-aggression

It was bright and sunny first thing and I went to school without a coat, deliberately getting there late so I could revise during assembly. Claire, Evelyn and Christine had decided to do the same thing too, and so our first two periods until eleven were spent desperately looking over essay plans. Inevitably, we all ended up at the staff room, absolutely crawling to Ingham for an extension. At first he was unrelenting, but he soon crumbled and although we were all jubilant, I felt almost guilty, as though I was letting him down, betraying him even. Stupid. Later we discussed possible titles for essays about Stalin – there are hundreds – and I was left with an overwhelming sense of non-achievement; we have so much work to do for History, not to mention English and Art.

Last period, we were all sat in the library when Andy Briscoe wandered in and casually said that “Czechoslovakia’s just declared war on Poland.” Everyone was shocked, and Jeremy and I rushed to Gilthwaite to try get a paper, but when the two o’clock news rolled around there was no mention, and Andy then admitted that he was lying! The bastard!! Things are getting serious over there though and I wouldn’t be surprised if war happens.

Nothing else to report except getting our fixtures for the six-a-side tournament. Our first match is on April 30th, and the rest are every Thursday until July. Countdown for the Shuttle launch has begun and I feel that something is bound to go wrong.

In the evening I wrote up an essay plan (“Why was the Russo-German non-aggression pact signed?”).