Oh my word today sucked. Try to imagine a very pissed off 15 year old, sitting at his computer typing his way through the pain of a BAD day. The wafer thin silver lining is that at least I have some good material for the fledgling pages of this diary.
The doubles of Biology and Geography passed relatively uneventfully (the two lessons have a very different impact on my life, which i'm sure will be revisited in future posts here). The afternoon was a whole different kettle of marine life. Me and sport do not mix. Me and team-bases sports played on mud in the cold mix even less well. As you can imagine, rugby is therefore not exactly my bag.
I made a feeble attempt to avoid the whole thing by "forgetting" my kit. But me and Mr.Marlin have crossed paths before and he was having none of it. Down into the musky box of abandoned sportswear I went, trying to find something that would a) fit and b) not make me stand out on the pitch any more than my lack of sporting prowess would cause. Unfortunately Marlin was standing over me lending a helping hand to my wardrobe selection, a belittling smirk on his fat scarlet face (How a man so close to a well-deserved heart attack can teach PE without dying on the spot i'll probably never know). So out on to the field I went, wearing a vast, tent-like pair of red shorts and a first year's white vest, decorated with a lovely orange stain down the front. Cue sniggers all around.
The game (although the word "game" implies frivolous enjoyment. "Ordeal" is perhaps better) continues. My friendly classmates think it will be fun to involve me as much as possible, so take every opportunity to throw me the ball hard and fast in a way that's impossible to catch, and which invariably leaves me flat on my back with a nosebleed. Then Carl Kirby takes it upon himself to leave the touch rugby rules behind. and bring a touch more brutality to the afternoon. I finally get two hands on the ball, only to be tackled hard from behind. My enormous shorts end up round my ankles, and Marlin's next words are "Up gayboy, this is a man's game". More laughter, and as proved in the changing rooms afterwards, a new nickname that will probably see me out the rest of the year at least.
See i'm supposed to like sport. Everyone is it seems. According to the likes of Marlin, it's the glue that binds society together and what defines men. Funny, because to me it seems like a lot of chimps trying to prove to one another how much of a twat each of them can be. I'm sure Marlin would find some homosexual connotation in this but if him and his kind are right, society can kiss my arse.
Tuesday, 3rd October 2006
Monday, 2nd October 2006
Things I forgot from my first post:
1) My name
2) Interesting information about myself
3) Interesting information about the events of the day
Clearly need a lot more practice at the whole diary thing. But today is a new day, the dawning of a new, er, dawn. So...
2) I'm 15 and go to school. And that's it.
3) Yesterday was Sunday and therefore included a trip round Tesco for Grandad's shopping, a big meal and a football match I didn't really watch, but pretended to.
Eagle-eyed readers will spot the missing answer. I'm not trying to conjure up some kind of enigma, prowling the blogosphere looking for prey, honest. It's a diary though and there might be personal stuff. So for the purposes of identification, the contents of this blog bear no resemblance to any persons alive or dead yadda yadda. But if by some strange happenstance the next few months bring me fame and fortune, or at least a semblance of credibility, I might come out of the closet, so to speak. For now i'm no-one.
So today. School was OK, but only by virtue of having the most deceptive timetable ever. It sucks me in with its Monday full of free periods and easy classes, then slaps me with Tuesday. Double Biology, Double Geography, Triple (yes, threefold) PE. If I post tomorrow I will be a pale imitation of my current upbeat yet trepidatious self.
This evening was spent round Grandad's, giving him the shopping we bought yesterday. Because Sunday is the lord's day so officially we don't buy the shopping then. But mum works late Monday so... Never mind, it's a whole disfunctional thing.
Sunday, 1st October 2006
stdlife 0.1
Stardate October 2006. Captain's Log.
Hang on. Almost outgeeked myself there. And I don't even like Star Trek.
This is my diary/journal/daybook. Except that proper diaries, with a page-per-day and handy guide to weights and measures in the front are for girls and luddites. This is my blog-diary. Not the kind of blog people with too much opinion and too few friends write. This is about me and my life.
So probably not very interesting to anyone then.