I recently found this draft that I never posted, imagine yourself ten months ago before you read this:
I am in my final year of high school, and I have noticed something rather amusing. I am talking of something other than the fact that we can cut in line in the canteen and watch all the little faces of the year sevens glare at us as we walk out with the last pizza slice or whatever.
I'm talking about the difference between the speeds of which year sevens, compared to year elevens, get to class.
Also I can vaguely remember reading a Facebook like about this, so it might sound like I ripped it off, but only because it's true.
Year sevens have this tendency to jump up as though the bell is actually a gun shot and they are all about to die if they don't get to class before it rings. It's funny sitting in Art and watching them all file in, ten minutes before the first bell, and wait in a neat little line in front of the door. This and the fact that their bags tend to be the same, if not bigger, than the people who carry them.
Which is something else I noticed, if you line up five students, going from year seven to year eleven you will see huge massive rucksacks on the year sevens, then a normal size one, a shoulder bag, a little bum bag type thing, and arrive at the year eleven, who is holding one, single pen (if you're lucky)
But then you have year eights and nine who think that arriving at the exact moment between first and second bell is the coolest thing ever. To be honest almost-as-tall-as-me-children it's about as cool as walking around school in your underwear with a big sign tattooed on your forehead that says '*Our headteacher* for Prime Minister' (and if you're just that stupid, *our headteacher* for Prime minister would include imposing a compulsory uniform for everyone with a life time in prison if you fail to conform and would also include every one getting ridicules hair cuts to match his, and really, imagine him on a poster? Have you seen his head-shot photos?)
I suppose you could come back with the fact that I was once one of these so cooled lamest-people-ever *shudder* but by saying what they are, it doesn't make me not. For example, if I was to call my best friend a werido and someone said, 'you're one to talk' I reply with 'I didn't say I wasn't, I merely said she was'
You may also gather from the previous paragraph that I am also pretty lame. That and the fact I'm ranting on the internet...
YEAR 10, yeah whatever. So you walk around thinking you own the place because you're almost as cool as we are. Really it's just annoying. Have you noticed just how high pitched everyone in year ten sounds? That and the fact that they insist on walking at the pace of a dead snail in the corridor. You might think you look unbelievably cool, but you're in my way, so shift before I hurt you.
Alas we arrive at us, the year elevens, and now that the sixth form is high tailing its way out of our lives we do, in fact, own all of you. Sitting in the middle of hallways and not moving until ten minutes after the second bell, and laughing at the mortified faces of the year sevens who have to step over us who just can't believe that we haven't seen fit to move off our arses and get to class.
So what have we learned? (other than I seem to becoming increasingly bitter as I get older)
Year elevens = cool
Anyone else = drool
And yes, I did just use a rhyme we made up in year five.
Kebby x
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