Ok, I admit this is dragging on a bit now, but I think I might only have one more post after this one! The problem I'm finding now is I'm having to confront the ethical side of blogging and having to self-censor what I am posting due to the real life knock on effects it might have. So in reality these days were far more amusing and dramatic than may come across on the web, but hey ho.
For the first time the public transport actually worked for us! Woo! In other words, we actually went to the right platform. On the train over Arawyn and I had a massive hit of nostalgia when we started listening to a group of year 8 on the table opposite us. It's quite scary to realise that we are about to become those scary sixth formers who looked about 27 and seemed so much more mature and in no way could you ever make eye contact with them in the corridor*.
Despite having two days to try a socialise, my tutor group was as divided as ever, with the external students on firmly on one side of the room, while the internal tribe sat on the other. We had all be given one of those sheets were you have to right down interesting skills that you could 'bring to the sixth form'. I appeared to be the only one who was actually brave enough to shed the society-imposed chains of modesty and claim that yes, I am the Queen of Chicken Keeping (which is a slightly lie as actually my Mum is the prime carer of Bertha). But everyone else just sat there awkwardly claiming they had no skills for just long enough so that they could escape to their first lesson without having to admit that they do enjoy the odd game of football.
My first lesson was physics. In a nice warm lab, which for the majority of the lesson was in the dark as we were doing wave-particle duality and needed to play about with lasers. However there was a slight problem in that I was very very very tired, the conditions were perfect for sleeping (Physics lab comes with a conveniently placed arm next to you that can double as a perfect pillow, absolutely free!) and quantum physics, no matter how cool, does rather stretch the brain. So I was reguarly having to scream at myself inside my brain to stop me from falling asleep. When the lesson finished I asked N if he had English next too he sort of nodded then ran off looking slightly terrified. I was left feeling rather confused.
But yes, we both did have English next, in a room that was rather poorly sign posted to so I was almost late to. The English lesson was rather uneventful. Actually that's a lie, one of the most interesting and talked about events happened there but due to issues outlined in the introduction I think it would be very unwise and rather horrendous of me to discuss them in this post. But what I will say is that it put me in a rather awkward position and has had a knock on effect with my relationships and could influence sixth form choices for one of my friends. However that may not actually be the worst thing that happened in that lesson as our teacher revealed something shocking: he does not like Harry Potter. WHAT. I know. It's terrible. On a more educational note, we were introduced to one of the books we would be studying - A Clockwork Orange - and started discussing the morality of readers. Which after having a sleep-inducing lesson on wave-particle duality, became very hard.
After break we had our second 'others' session where we had a tour of the school's sixth form facilities. That school is made up entirely of sixth form facilities. Every other room is a frickin sixth form study area. It is unnatural. Great, but unnatural.
Then we lunch which proved to be much like my English lesson (stuff happened, but I can't talk about it). This lunch was very confusing for someone with limited brain power like myself as it was dived into two half an hour blocks with a talk from NCS in the middle.
In our second tutor period something amazing happened - another external girl and I managed to infiltrate the internal students! This did admittedly result in three days worth of introductions etc being forced into one twenty-five minute session. Which was no problem for me as I can speak at a rather fast pace that I have a feeling slightly terrified everyone else. However it transpired that merely my having actual breasts terrified them. Talking of inappropriate things to say, the other external girl started passing around a piece of paper to get all the boys' names to add them on facebook. When it got to one of the girls, she was told she doesn't need to put her name down. It was a rather amusing event so everyone started to laugh at the awkwardness of it all, then I had to say "Oh it's like, 'I want your name, but wait... You have a vagina? NOOOO!'" Then all of the boys sort of sniggered, but then looked guilty at laughing at the word vagina, but then I confirmed to them that I did say vagina a lot and that it is fine to laugh at it. And they did and I got that nice feeling you get when you make someone laugh. Who needs to drugs when you can say inappropriate things and then cover it up by explaining you're a feminist who claims ownership of your body through unashamed speech, just to make everyone slightly happier?
Of course that's what I do. It's nothing to do with the fact I have no social skills.
The rest of the day was pretty uneventful (I can't actually remember it) so I shan't be writing about it. However we had an early finish and I went around my friends house as I was going to go up to London that evening with my Mum and Brother to go and watch "Mission Drift" at the National Theatre. That show was the best piece of theatre I think I have ever seen and I shall hopefully do a review of it, despite seeing it about three weeks ago.
On the train up I had plenty of time to reflect on the previous three days. It was then a realised how much fun I had had (hehehe "had had"). And that I had felt more able to be myself there, then I had been at the school I had been at for the last five years. I thought particularly about the last thing I had said to one of guys in my tutor group when we were leaving and he said "Well then, see you in two months?" and I replied "I don't know if I'm coming, so you might never see me again." It was true; I might never see some of these people again. That was a genuinely sad thought. These people were friendly, funny and intelligent. I admit that arrogance and mild sexism were two common characteristics, but that didn't stop me wanting to go back to Wednesday just so I can have another three days with these people.
*Unfortunately the current year 7s seem to have pigeon syndrome, as they now have no fear of the older years. The amount of times I have had a year 7 mock me as I ask them to move out the way of my locker. Luckily, the idea of having height still hasn't occurred to them, so I am still able to play the bongos on the heads of two unsuspecting children as I walk down the corridors.