I bloody hated school. There, I've said it. "Best Days of Your Life" and all that pony. Yeah right, not when you end up going to one of the worst secondary schools in the area and your swear word vocabulary was extended within your first few days there, you got mocked for talking"posh" (no, I talk properly) and for the first three years you get teased for being fat. Great stuff... it's okay the therapy has been working (joke).
I can see that my behaviour and attitudes as a pupil was definitely a blueprint for my adult life in the workplace. I just wanted to get on with it, keep my head down and get my work done. I didn't bang on about how great I was, nor was I especially verbose or difficult. I wasn't a teachers' pet and I think I managed 5 years at the school without some of the teachers knowing who I was. I was occasionally reprimanded for my sarcasm (I am sure you're shocked) and for those of you who actually know me it won't come as a surprise that more often than not I was in trouble for my uniform, make up and jewellery.
I was trying to think what I actually did get into trouble for at school and have managed to compile this list of heinous crimes:
1) My one and only detention was a mere threatened detention for drawing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Heroes in a half shell!) instead of doing science.
2) Every day I was told off for wearing more than one earring per ear. Ironically by a teacher who had two earrings in each lughole.
3) My friend Susan and I managed to get Doctor Marten boots BANNED... but get this, only banned for girls to wear them! in the end they conceded and agreed we could wear them under trousers but not with long skirts.
4) Bollocked for ripping my cauliflower into florets rather than using a vegetable knife. It's no wonder I wasn't sent to the headmaster straight away for this terrible offence.
5) The same teacher was apoplectic with rage when I broke the sewing machine needle (possibly she had anger management issues.)
6) Bellowed at in PSE as the teacher thought my friend and I were laughing at A.I.D.S "God help you girls if you think this is funny!". We were actually cringing and pulling faces at the mention of 'cherry red blood' which was symptomatic of having H.I.V (I think, I suspect we weren't listening but we certainly didn't find it funny...)
7) Accused of cheating in a history test as myself and my friend Michelle got the same mark. She had actually copied me but the teacher blamed me as she disliked me. I later shamed her (oh god, or did I bully her? the mind plays tricks...) into a public apology. I loved history and fancied doing it at A-level but as she predicted me a D grade at GCSE I thought it wasn't possible. I got a B grade and took great delight in making sure I caught up with the teacher on the presentation day to tell her I got a B. "Oh, well done what was your predicted grade?" "D". In your face Mrs Childs. IN YOUR FACE.
8) Paxo gate: our geography teacher looked the spit of a character in a Paxo stuffing advert at the time and was constantly ribbed over this. My friend was definitely teacher's pet as we used to sit together and do identical work. She would always get 10/10 and me 9.5/10 for the same work. I also thought that he didn't actually read or check the work, merely awarded the mark depending on his fondness for the student. I decided to test my theory by inserting the word 'paxo' a few times into my work. Sure enough we handed our exercise books in. My friend was awarded another 10 and me another 9.5. I decided to challenge the mark and said "Sir, did you actually read my work?" when he claimed he had I said "Well you couldn't have done as I put the word 'paxo' in it and you didn't notice!". Luckily he took this with good humour but also said he was dropping the mark to a 9!
And there you have it. Definitely a rebel without clue in those days. I rarely did P.E which is pretty ironic considering I start a personal training course this week. I think the P.E shirking will have to make a separate blog though.
I even shunned the "Leavers Ball". This wasn't on the grand scale that you see these days, it was a more modest affair in the sports hall. I think it was just a disco and some food but everyone was going to town getting posh frocks and finding a date. Er, no thanks. I boycotted the ball and went into town with two other school friends. We dined at Pizzaland (thinking we were terribly sophisticated) then blagged our way into "Martines" nightclub with fake ID. With hindsight it was probably blatantly obvious we were underage as we turned up at around 9pm and were probably the only patrons for at least two hours. We supped some Diamond White and had a bit of a dance until someones Dad came to pick us up at the Cinderella like hour of 11.30pm.
Conversely I loved Sixth form and adored my time at University, because you were treated like an adult there and were also learning things you actually wanted to learn. I dropped maths and sciences as soon as I was able and have never indulged in team sports since.
So yep, so called best days of my life. I beg to differ...
