Conversation with Herman, who's boards at school:

H: I can't wait till we get the Internet at school. My friends will be able to e-mail me.
Z: Yeah, they can send you porn.
H: No, I'm not into that.
Z: Oh?
H: You missed out one word.
Z: Which is?
H: Hardcore.

I think the computer room opens tomorrow, but rumour has it that you'll only be able to visit educational sites. People, start putting "education, study, physics, geography" in your meta-description-type-things.

While we're dealing with the interests of lesser-known characters, Craig has started telling me to "watch it" eight thousand times a day. I don't know what I'm meant to be watching, or why, but I don't want to find out what happens if I don't. And watching it never hurt anyone. Whatever it is we're watching.

I was the main speaker in a debate tonight. The motion was "This house believes that school uniform should be optional" and I was speaking against the motion. Despite the fact that the proposition's arguments ran along lines such as "uniform harms our individuality and creativity" (individuality? what? wearing Adidas trousers?), the motion was carried.

The minute I walked out of the lecture theatre, the perfect argument occurred to me. Actually, I must admit, Smill pointed it out: optional uniform is lunacy, but no one was in favour of that. Everyone either wanted uniform or no uniform, and that's opposing the motion. But nobody thought of that during the debate. HEURGH.

In other news:

I've got a half day tomorrow and my aevil scank geen parents wanted me to stay at school from 12.50 to 6.15 since I have concert band.

I played table football with Smill today.

Marion bothered to turn up today, albeit four lessons left, and then left at 1pm.

Zobo Creat is catching. Smill has started saying 'yoj'.

We played netball in games today and my team won, 4-2. I scored three of the goals, yoj!

Friday 5 February 1999

Today, Noj summoned me to the study when he noticed my penpal Jen on iMusic chat. It was rather funchie, considering we've never conversed online before. So we talked for a while, then my browser started being a pantsfiend and I left. I'd forgotten how scanky public chatrooms that need reloading constantly are and I fear my browser is getting feeble in its old age.

Noj went back on the computer and started talking to Jen. Hmm. Maybe I should try and get them together. After all, they're closer in age to each other than to me, and bigger fans of the Manics than I am. And they're both called J*n***** Wa****. And they have a 95% compatibility rate . . .

Nah. Noj and Meaghan would make a far better couple. Their hatred is almost Rohanic/Smillic in proportion, and you know how convinced I am about their compatibility.

Speaking of which, the cinema plan never went ahead, but it's half term soon, so maybe we can try again. In the meantime, progress on their parts! Smill, Roe and myself were playing table football today when a real football landed between the players. Admittedly, a small one - small enough to fit between the bars, but not under them. And so we started to play with that. I got fed up quickly, dismissing it as geenery, but they wanted to keep playing. So I left them to it. They didn't stay long, but nevertheless, spent a significant time together with no one else around. Bwahaha!

And I have two other plans to help them on their way. One, Physics seating arrangements. We have Physics in three different rooms throughout the week, but all three of them have desks designed for two. There are an even number of people in my Physics class so, I just have to convince everyone else to sit together, leaving Smill and Rohan on their own. Bwahaha!

Secondly, Valentine's Day approacheth fast. Real cards might be a bit hard to fake, but what about cyber cards? Both have Internet access and I know their e-mail addresses. I will consult with my fellow conspirator.

Pants! I wrote "Driving," in brown pen on my hand this morning and "Shroud" in pink. Various people wondered. "Is that a shroud you wearing for driving?" Paul asked. But in spite of it, I forgot to phone my driving instructor AND to bring my Turin Shroud speech home. What a geen I am.

Friday 12 February 1999

As soon as I got home from school, I was aware of exactly how much time I had. I searched my room to find single Young Enterprise document with his address on it, printed an address label (which involved phoning my mother to find out the correct postal code), stuck it to the red envelope and found a first class stamp. I changed out of my school uniform and set out into the cold drizzle. Yes, there are a select number of events which leave me with no choice but to face the tyranny that is Brampton. This was one of them.

As I rounded the corner, a red van pulled up next to the post box. But my watch told me I had half an hour to go. I broke into a run, and reached the post box just after the man did.

It wasn't the postman at all. Just some bloke with in a red van who happened to be posting a letter. Who, to my embarrassment, guessed what I had thought, then watched me posting a large red envelope. My life is full of such faux pas.

But no matter. The deed was done.

The Aevil Committee had moved onto phase two of Plan Of Action: Get Roe and Smill Together. The Aevil Committee being me, Will and Marion, our new member. (And numerous other people are now aware of it, and approve. Bwahaha.) Phase two being "send Roe a Valentine's card supposedly from Smill".

Chances are he'd realise it was from us, but it would be funny, anyway.

So on Monday at lunchtime, Marion travelled to the shop across the road and bought a very soppy Valentine's card. Then we needed to write the message. Only then did it become apparent quite how difficult it is to forge Smill's handwriting.

It is like no script I have ever encountered. It looks deceptively simple, but I only had a small sample of it and my efforts on Monday night were hopeless.

On Tuesday night, after helping Noj with his Maths homework, he agreed to try and do it. His attempts to copy her words were pretty good, but when he tried to write "Dearest darling Rohan" he failed.

Now my only hope was someone at school. One of my acquaintances is good at forging handwriting - but unfortunately that's Roe. On Wednesday, I asked Sir William Vasey Of Pants, Paul, King Of Springs, Sir Christopher Bagot Of Cricket and Maid Marion's assistance. Sir Christopher proclaimed it impossible to forge; Marion, however, promised to have mastered it by Thursday morning. So, I handed over the sample and sprinted off to netball enthusiastically (while she skived it and went home, as usual).

By Thursday morning, she hadn't looked at it, because she'd been too busy with her Art Personal Study. However, she said she'd do it later that day.

Unfortunately, that was the last I saw of her all day. By lunchtime, she had left again, taking the sample with her.

Marion doesn't come in on Fridays since she has no lessons. WAH!

My only option was to type out the message. Inside the card it said, "Because I really love you so." Around it, I wrote a poem:

(Yes, it's terrible poetry, but intentionally so. Speaking of which, my Physics teacher wants me to improve Mixing Physics With Romance so he can put it in the school magazine. Max is Smill's beloved horse, Canada is Smill's beloved country of origin, and St Anne's is her beloved former school.)

So this morning, I had the card ready. The next problem was getting Roe and Smill out of the carrels at the same time.

I had intended to put it in Roe's desk during registration. However, since the head of sixth form is skiing and the deputy head is ill, registration took place in the carrels instead of the lecture theatre. Assembly was no good, since I was on duty and had to be in the chapel longer than either of them. In the first lesson, I managed to get Roe down to the common room, but Smill was busy with her Physics investigation.

(I still haven't done mine, by the way, but I wrote the following message to my teacher in blood - well, red felt tip pen - "I promise to pay the bearer one Physics Practical on Monday 22 February 1999 AD under pain of torture in centimetres measured with a metre ruler".)

Roe then returned to the carrels, and I consulted Will about the next stage. We agreed that I would get Smill, Roe and Paul down to the common room to play two-a-side table football, while Will put the card in Roe's desk. Smill was in agreement with this plan; unfortunately, Roe had been sent back to the carrels by my history teacher and was unwilling to return to the common room.

When Smill and I got back to the carrels, Roe had gone. So while I distracted Smill, Will put the card in Roe's desk.

By break, it hadn't been discovered, so I moved it to a more obvious place. Under a prospectus on his desk. It was sticking out slightly, so I felt certain he would see it.

When I checked later, it seemed to have moved, but Roe didn't say a word. Did he really think it was from her?

The afternoon brought yojous triple Physics. However, the first lesson was cancelled, so Smill and I played table football (I won, two games to one - the winner was red each time). We spent the next two lessons supposedly working on our revision schemes but mostly playing cats cradle. As we left, we got into a conversation about her compatibility with Roe. I pointed out that they both did things painstakingly, they both argued their beliefs passionately, they both played defensively in table football, they both liked playing table football with a real football, and so forth. Smill remained unconvinced. "He's too short and just because I have things in common with him doesn't mean we're perfectly suited. For example, unfortunately Bagot and I have a lot in common- I mean, no we don't, but-" Ha. At long last she admitted it. Shame it's over a year too late. Anyway, one day she'll come to her senses. I'll make sure of it. Bwahaha.

We had half an hour left before leaving the building, so we headed for the common room. Yes, in case you hadn't guessed, we are utterly obsessed with pool and table football. Getting to play pool makes our day. And I'm not the only one who writes, "Played table football and won" in my diary; she does too. (Alas, hers isn't online.)

The common room was deserted - we could play pool! Yoj! So we played and I won - just. Then we went back upstairs - her to get changed, me to collect my books.

In the rapidly-emptying carrels, I opened my desk.

There was a card inside.

On the front it said, "Valentine.... My Heart pants....." and on the inside, ".....for you!! Happy Valentine's Day." In newspaper letters it said, "Dear Zed from ? (Pants)".

Gosh, I wonder who that could be from? (Exactly six months ago, I received a birthday card with "Pants!" on it. Where does he get these cards anyway?)

I checked Roe's desk. The card had been moved, but not opened. Roe had skived off Physics and gone home.

GACK! BLARG! SCANK! MIMPH! PAAAAAAAAAAAAAANTS!!!!!!!

That's what I was posting. It'll arrive tomorrow. Shame we won't get to see his expression. But he won't be able to accuse me so readily - that is, providing it doesn't have a Brampton postmark on it.

Grr. The best laid schemes of Zed and Will . . .