Mykos, I'm BORED! Doing Stalin last night was ok, because he was so aevil and I felt sorry for poor old Kamenev and Zinoviev and all the other people he purged, and I wondered, "Did Stalin have a wife?" in case she was jealous of me doing him. But now it's just, "The Liberals demanded something- or-other, and someone said blahblah, and the King was reluctant to do something" over and over again. The most exciting thing they ever do is have elections and they're over in a line. I've still got about sixty pages of notes to make today, and I'll never succeed. Never mind anything else.

I took a break to look at my Maths, but that's equally bad. When k=2, find the general solution. Why? Do I really care what it is? What use does any of this have? Whenever I tell people I'm taking Maths, Physics and History, they go, "Urgh." And I can see why. I must be taking the dullest subjects possible, although I can't imagine "Jumpers" and ox-bow lakes and spectrometers and Gnosticism are much more fascinating.

How did so many before me live through Upper 6th?

Monday 2 November 1998

Went back to school today. It wasn't bad. I might live. But I must have done a lot of writing in the last two days. I put a new cartridge in my fountain pen yesterday morning - a long cartridge. By lesson nine today, it had run out.

Needless to say, it wasn't the most interesting of days.

Wednesday 4 November 1998

One less dollar, another day. Played darts with Smill and Les - it was amazingly close but I won - and beat Smill twice at table football. Nothing else worthy of mention occurred, apart from Mairi the psychopath going psychotic after accidentally dropping 20p down a drain, but seemingly my day was less boring than some people's.

Zed (to Will): What are you doing?
Andrew: Huh. Don't ask me what I'm doing, then.
Zed: What are you doing?
Andrew : Gluing together the pages of Liz's UCAS guide.

Saturday 7 November 1998

Noj needs a life. It sounds silly coming from me, but at least I seem to spend every other Friday out somewhere.

The reason my beloved brother merited the first word of this entry is because at 10pm, on the way back from a theatre trip to Glasgow (I saw "The Homecoming" by Harold Pinter), I tried to call my parents using the mobile phone, which they'd lent me. Engaged. Noj was obviously on the Internet. I tried again at 10.15. Engaged. I tried at 10.30, 10.45, 11.00, 11.15, 11.30, 11.40, 11.50, 12.00, 12.05 and 12.10. Engaged every time. At 12.15, I finally got through and told my mother to come and pick me up from school immediately.

It takes twenty minutes to get from my house to school. Unfortunately the coach arrived back at school at 12.20.

Thursday 12 November 1998

On Sunday, I dreamed Roe and Smill were going out together. Bwahaha!

Also on Sunday, I set off on a three-day History trip to London. On Monday we toured the Houses of Parliament. Throughout the entire tour, no one had had the slightest inkling to sit down, but in the House Of Commons, the tour guide said, "Don't sit down in here." And absolutely everyone was struggling not to sit down. I don't know why we weren't allowed to. Are our rear ends any worse than those of the honourable ladies and gentlemen?

We went to Downing Street and the guard let us through the gate (we had passes). Tourists stared as us through the railings as if we were really special. Taking it in turns, we stood on the doorstep of number ten and had our photos taken. At one point, an official-looking bloke arrived and walked in, and we got a glimpse of the interior.

In the afternoon we waited to get into parliament in session. It was amazing the number of people queuing. As A Level History students, we had a good reason, but all kinds of people were waiting. And it was at least an hour before we got in and we were at the front of the line.

Impressions of parliament: the seats in the Strangers' Gallery are seriously lacking in leg space. Discussions are a lot funnier than the snippets you get on TV. A lot of what is said is totally pointless, since no bills or anything ever arise from it. But what impressed me most of all were the shorthand writers who record every word that's said.

On Monday night we saw "Snake Eyes" at the cinema, then went to a couple of pub. London, like Camelot, is a Silly Place. Outside the first pub we visited was a sign listing several good qualities of it, followed by "Unfriendly service". It was accurate, but it's not the sort of thing you advertise now is it?

And on Tuesday, we went to a tobacco shop (Katie was searching for cigars for her uncle) and instead of the usual, "Thank you for not smoking" on the door, it said, "Thank you for smoking."

Tuesday's main event were lectures on 1918-1941 Russia, which was in a temple with ridiculously uncomfortable seats. Although I've always been a Russia freak, I was half-asleep by the end. What the lecturers said was good, but they just presented their speeches in such a boring way.

On the journey back, a singing happy drunk (a character in Angband) got on the train at Oxenholme (somewhere in south Cumbria) and sat at the table opposite us. The ticket guy came along. "Can I see your ticket please?" "Yeah, yeah, sure!" And typically, "This is the wrong ticket. Where are you trying to go?" "Morecambe to Manchester." "This train's going to Penrith." "Oh." "If you can buy a ticket now and get off in Penrith. It's eight pounds. Do you have eight pounds?" "No..." "Well, do you have a name and address?" "Yeah!" He reels off his name and address. "Do you know your postcode?" "No..." "Do you have a telephone number?" "Yeah, but I can't remember it." "Do you know anyone in Manchester?" "Yeah, I've got a friend... but I don't know where he lives."

Today, I had to give a forty minute seminar on vampires. Why, I wonder, do I always end up talking about sex? I've been to about thirty seminars, and I can't remember any where that subject's arisen. But in my last one, "Dreams", I couldn't avoid talking about it, and similarly in this one.

I didn't finish writing my speech until the night before, but luckily I was able to spend double History editing it, since most people needed to catch up on work they'd missed while they were away. I spent my first ever Physics lesson without Smill (she was visiting Liverpool University). Then it was mass / study period, which I spent showing Roe (my chairman) and Chris (who was just There) the videos I was using in my speech. (Chair-people introduce the seminar and work the overhead projector and the video machine.)

Alas! Usually three seminar groups, with twenty people in each. But since Matthew hadn't written his ("Where are you holding your seminar?" the head of sixth form asked him; "The toilet" he replied) my audience increased drastically. Heech!

But I got quite a few laughs. Mentioning the vampire "Carmilla" was certainly a good idea (Camilla being Smill's real name). When I spoke of "Lust For A Vampire" - a film in which Carmilla is at a Swiss finishing school and terrorises the pupils and teachers - Alice and Natalie had hysterics.

Good thing Smill wasn't at school today.

Saturday 14 November 1998

Today, I have two letters from universities I've applied to. Cambridge want to interview me on Monday 30 November and York want to interview me NEXT SATURDAY!

HEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!!!

Tuesday 17 November 1998

I got two rather nicer letters from universities today! Glasgow said, "If you get a B and C, you're in." (I've already got an A for Maths.) And Warwick said, "We'll offer you a place, but UCAS will tell you what grades you need." Funchieness.

Last night, I phoned Flink to wish her a happy fifteenth twenty fourth birthday. (She claims to be twenty four so no one will kick her off dodgy mailing lists.) Bearing in mind she lives in New Zealand and Saturday's eight hours online, I somehow think the next phonebill is going to mysteriously disappear . . .

My driving theory test is tomorrow. I did three mock tests and got 33 out of 35 twice, and full marks the other time. You need thirty to pass, so I should be all right. And I get to miss double games.

I thought I had finished with seminars once and for all. But not so by no way. In Religion, we have four thirty-five-minute lessons in which to write a fifteen minute speech about a set topic. Or, if you work in a pair, as Smill and I are doing, a thirty minute speech. Which is simply not possible, especially considering we're having to talk about something we know nothing about: The Turin Shroud. Dad knows it inside out (literally and laterally) but chances of us getting him to dress up as two seventeen year old girls and give the talk for us are slim.

Thursday 19 November 1998

I got a CD in Tesco today: "Greatest" by Duran Duran. I must admit, I like it a lot.

I took my driving theory test yesterday and with a little bit of luck, I'll pass. I was so glad I got to miss Games: the teacher decided that it was too cold for netball, so the suckers had to do circuit training instead.

Marion was in school today, for the fourth day in a row. Amazing! She's even intending to come in tomorrow, even though she doesn't have any lessons and therefore officially has the day off. Just to annoy people who say she's never there.

Will found "Verbal Voodoo", approved, and asked me to marry him. Good good.

Friday 20 November 1998

Alas! Will insists on telling everyone at school about "Verbal Voodoo". He mentioned it to Alice and Helen Wo, and luckily I managed to distract them. He told Paul about it, who dubbed himself King Of Bloxed. (Ha!) And, worst of all, while I was playing Bloxed with Smill (and winning every game), Will tried to tell her about it. Her suspicions were aroused (their hormones work overtime), especially when I said, "Never you mind."

I get the feeling this has happened before . . . why is it that everything libellous that I write is discovered? But I can't let her find it. Chris took The Song in good humour, but Smill will not be impressed. She could live with being married to Roe (well, probably not literally), but I doubt she'll appreciate being called aevil.

If she finds out, well, Verbal Voodoo #3 is going to end:

Camilla The Terrifically Nice Person forgave CZ, Queen of Bloxed, for casting her as an aevil person. And they all lived happily ever after (except William, King Of Bloxed, who died a slow and painful death. Queen CZ married Paul, because he was already called himself King Of Bloxed.)

And it'll come true too. Bwahaha!

What else can I write about today? I had a Maths Challenge this morning, and I think I've done well. Two of my teachers had an arm-wrestling match (20p to watch) in aid of the victims of Hurricane Mitch. My student planner is a work of art since I spend all my lessons colouring in the rectangles. Unfortunately, I then can't see what homework I have, but who cares? Not I, said the snail.

Tuesday 24 November 1998

I can't believe it. I've had a homepage since March 1997. The only people who knew about it were the select number of people I told. But now everyone knows! York University were looking for it! People at school are going, "What's your URL?" And flippin' sponchular scankhurst pantsmeister Will is telling everyone about "Verbal Voodoo". Smill doesn't know yet - I hope - but now Alice is saying, "I'm going to look up your name on a search engine and find it." And I'm not sure she'll be too happy with her characterisation either!

I finished writing my computer program "!Feelings" today! I was stuck at school until 9pm (since it was Convivium - the sixth form debating society) and I spent an hour in the computer room while Smill typed a letter (only to succeed in deleting it). And it works! It's like !Love, only better. Not only can you calculate the love percentage of a couple, but the hate and like factor, and for an individual, you can calculate the aevil, scank, pants or wench factor. I'm 96% pants. Herman is 97% pants, Rohan is 98% pants. Calculating the Zed / Smill hate factor makes the program malfunction. It's no fault of mine, really, just the figures.

I wish PCs understood BASIC as readily as Acorns do. Die, PCs, Die! If they did, I'd be able to put it online for your downloadtion purposes, if I knew how. Maybe you can get Acorn or BBC emulators, or whatever.

I'm so computer literate. I hope Cambridge don't come sneaking round here.

And woe! I have finally met my match in Bloxed, alas. He beat me three times out of five. He must have spent his entire childhood playing Tetris while I only spent a couple of years doing so.

Wednesday 25 November 1998

I passed my driving theory test. 35/35. Yoj!

Marion really ought to come to school more often. Last year, she never attended a single Religion lesson. The one or two when she did turn up the teacher wasn't there. This year, she's only been to one PE lesson. But, she turned up today . . . and it was cancelled, since it was raining and the New Hall was in use.

So, if Marion came to PE lessons more often, we'd surely have less of them.

Thursday 26 November 1998

Today commenced with double History, Physics and study period. Smill and I have decided to call electrons 'sheep' from now on, because after writing "Electric Fields" at the top of today's Physics notes, I couldn't resist writing "in which electric sheep graze" beneath it.

At break, Mum took me to the orthodontist's, so I missed the first lesson of seminars, and since it was a guest speaker, I didn't want to walk in half way through. So I did some Maths and had lunch. Then double Maths, then a free period. There was no teacher around and no one wanted to work, so me, Smill, Roe, Alice, Katie and Chris N played consequences. Paul watched although I never thought of it as much of a spectator sport. The consequences were funny. Why did one of our English teachers feature so regularly?

Afterwards, Roe etched "Smill 4 Bagot" on a ring binder sleeve thingy. Will he ever give up? Maybe he's just trying to prove to himself and the world that he doesn't like Smill. But he doesn't fool me, bwahaha! Smill instantly guessed who'd written it, and said, "I don't care any more, since we both hate each other. Well, we argue all the time."

"Are you sure it's not just a love-hate thing?" I said.

"Absolutely not."

But, of course, Roe and Smill are far better suited to each other. They're being so civilised these days, I really do wonder . . .

I have a sicker mind than most people realise. My ending to the consequence was "And they went to a gay porno movie and enjoyed it immensely." And my suggested explanation of Marion's observation that there were, at one point, three quarters of the female contingent of the Upper 6th (nine people) were in the girls' toilets simultaneously was "they were having an orgy."

After school, Marion and I went into Carlisle, ostensibly in search of Christmas presents. However, since neither Noj nor Dad told me what they wanted, I ended up getting "Behind The Scenes At The Museum" for Mum and that was it.

For myself, I bought three ring binders. Marion was distraught about how cheap and boring they were, but I needed those colours. It's a code. Physics is black (depressing), Maths is blue (sad), and History is red (bloody). I also got fifteen ink cartridges, since I'm going through about one a day, and I got a birthday card for Chris, as it's his birthday tomorrow.

Then I went to concert band and learnt that they are performing sex change operations in the music centre! During the break, we noticed a woman walking into it, but when she came out, she'd turned into a man.