Drinkies With Bernard...?

So, as you've no doubt seen from my last post, my week has been manic. But today I've been pondering why I'll miss the Concert Band so much; I mean, I go along every week and lug the bari with me. Then when I get there I get laughed at by other players, ignored by Mr Bean and angry with myself for not being better at what I do.

It's not even that hard. Especially the bari part.

And seriously, Mr Bean doesn't actually acknowledge my existence about 98% of the time. Not that I want him to turn up every week, make a beeline for me and start to talk to me like an old friend, but during rehearsals, it would be nice if I was classed as an instrument. Most of the time, I'm actually a trombone or a euphonium, occasionally I'm a saxophone and very rarely I'm just a bass, but most of the time I'm just not mentioned when he asks the part I play to practice a particular bar.

But I've been thinking, I'm really going to miss that band next year; they may be insufferable idiots at times, but they're my insufferable idiots. Even though I am quite possible the most dispensible person in the band, and everyone knows it, it's been a big part of my life to turn up for an hour and a half every Monday to sit there next to Hannah, bored out of my brains. Any other band that I'm ever in, no matter how mind-numbingly boring and tedious, will never quite be as fun without being fun, if you know what I mean. Which you probably don't.

At Concert Band, there was always the potential for a laugh, whether it be at the expense of Ben, Mr Bean or the entire percussion section. Like the time Mr Bean was losing his voice and every time he said the number "three" (which was quite a lot) he sounded like a creaky door. Or when Mr Bean spent ten minutes lecturing whoever was drumming about a rhythm which should've gone "rum dum dugga dugga dum!" but didn't. Or a couple of weeks ago when Mr Bean asked the band which famous piece of music was famous for the particular cadence we were playing and Ashley answered "Dynamite by Taio Cruz."

Nothing will be quite the same as the time we had the conversations with the rest of the band out of the windows at the back of the hotel on tour either. We must've spent about an hour with our heads out of various windows shouting the odds at each other because the teachers were patrolling the corridors. That was an excellent evening, although probably not for the teacher who found us...

So, I guess what I'm saying is that I'm going to miss all these people, although why I have no idea. It's not perfect, but it's my band. And I'll miss them. Especially my girls (and Seb.)

Arbeit Macht Frei

Firstly, I'd like to apologise for any offence caused by the title of this post. It hasn't been meant in an offensive way or as a reminder of the past, but as a way to grab attention and make a point. Last Wednesday was my last proper day of school at Owen's and this phrase (translstion: work makes freedom, originally written above the gates of Auschwitz) will be one of my overriding memories of the day. So I suppose today's pondering is why some people have to spoil things.

Our last day at school, traditionally known as Muck-Up Day, is always a bit of a joke. We are expected to come in early and decorate the school based on our theme, which we choose, and also dress up accordingly. Our chosen theme was "Neverland", as in Peter Pan, and about seventy of us had agreed with the Head that we would come in at 6:30 and make the school lunch hall into a pirate ship, complete with statue of Captain Dame Alice Hook*. It was an absolute masterpiece and everyone who was involved was really proud. (At this point I'd also like to thank and congratulate Joanna and Aisha on their amazing organisation of the whole thing.)

However, when we went to look at the rest of the school, we got a shock.

The front of the school looked great; Nicole has decorated her car to look like an island and there were big banners saying "Welcome to Neverland" and "Never Grown Up Since 2006". That was really good. But the further into the school you got, there worse it got. Classic pranks, such as buttered door handles and handrails were there but there was also writing on all the walls. Some of it was almost funny but some of it, like the Nazi slogans, Swastikas and some incredibly rude messages about teachers and one about one person in our year, were just completely unacceptable. There's no need for that sort of reaction to seven years of excellent education.

Later we heard that half the year had been in since 4am and had drunk considerably beforehand, leading to the ridiculous actions we witnessed. I would like to stress to any teachers that have wandered onto this blog that it wasn't all of us acting like this and that those of us who weren't involved are very sorry it happened. And in future, you might like to know that butter works very well at getting chalk off of walls. Butter, water and bare hands.

This isn't my only memory of that last day; the Assembly we had was very nice, with messages from the teachers and the award ceremony (Best Accessories!) It was all very touching and I cried a lot (and not just for the injustice against the teachers.) And after a disappointing 'social' at Old Owen's, a group of us went to one of Potters Bar's many pubs and had a lovely chat, which was nice. And of course, I have the memory of Jason's face when I turned up for my lesson with a bright green face... (I was a crocodile!)

*Our school has a statue of Dame Alice Owen, the foundress, in the lunch hall. She is traditionally dressed up for Muck-Up Day. In previous years, she has looked lovely in tin foil, bikinis and bubblewrap.

Commitments (not marital ones)

Over the last few months, it has struck me that a lot of my friends don't take their responsibilities as seriously as I do, so today I am pondering dedication and commitment.

Anyone who knows me will know that I do everything; Guides, Scouts, Bands, Church, Choirs, helping in classes, private tutoring, form prefecting, the EPQ, etc. etc. And I do all of these things to the best of my ability; if I say I'll be somewhere or do something, the I will try my darnedest to be there or do it (a few weeks ago, when I missed the Year Seven inter-form badminton competition I felt so guilty, especially as the Captain didn't go either) and long standing commitments, such as bands, always come first to me. Obviously, I know that other people don't take this stance and often "blow off" bands/choirs etc. for other things and I don't have a problem with that, it's their choice. But until recently, I hadn't realised how common it was.

Even people who I thought would be as dedicated to their work and extra activities as I am (people who I would deem the most reliable and moral people I've ever met) are willing to 'skive' or 'pull a sickie' on a band rehearsal or event which they think will be boring, or that they cannot be bothered with on that particular day.

To be honest, I've learnt two things from this. Firstly, I am apparently incredibly dedicated to everything compared to others (even those I thought would be less likely to miss things like that). Secondly, dedication doesn't seem to be related in any way to being a good person. This surprised me, as I've always considered that one of the things which made me a good person (perhaps actually the only thing) was that I could be relied on to do anything I was required to. But some of my closest friends and the nicest people I've ever met (including the Captain) don't need to be like that to make them good people, they are just inherently good in other ways.
Wow. Surprisingly deep.

Also, I'd like to say a massive thank you to everyone who sent me good wishes for my Birthday the other day. I'm sorry I've not been prompt in replying to any of it (social networking has not been kind to me), but I will get back to you, if I haven't already. I love you all :)

The School Library

Today, as I have a free period and I have already "exhausted my grey matter" I am pondering the joys of our school library. There aren't many. We come in here to work during our "study periods", or free lessons, and usually end up discussing anything and everything, including (but not restricted to):

• Politics
• Facebook
• The many escapades of Ella's dog Zak
• Ditto Hannah's dog Merlin
• Jacqueline and Beccy's work experience with lambs
• Misa's plan to conquer the world/universe/multiverse
• Cake
• The Queen
• Fashion
• Sophie and Henry's suppressed sexual tension (or whatever)
• Phillip Crout (and Mrs Georgia Crout)
• Scouts/Rangers/Guides/Splorers
• How much work we have to do
• The effects of Carpal Tunnel Syndrome on the exam process

However, more often than not we sit, in our small groups, discussing the work with whoever happens to be sitting nearby. For example, today Jacqueline has been checking that her revision notes for Biology are correct, Misa and Maria have been discussing maths and, whilst I've been writing this, Ella has asked me to Goggle some physics-y thing for her.

Unfortunately the wonderful Mrs Compton doesn't seem to understand how people need to talk to each other sometimes for work to be effective; we can't always be competely independent. Some bloke once said "Man is not an island" or something similar. We should respect that; how can we check that our German essays are accurate if we can't ask people like Leila or Stanley, who know everything? Etc. etc.

I could go on about this all day but to be fair, there are some people who abuse the library. Somehow it goes unnoticed if  Stanley and Maria play Library tennis (which was really funny, we should do it again next year), but it is noticed when Oliver lies across the table and starts singing at someone (usually Chris). Yeah, that was awkward....