A A A

All the worrying turned out to be unnecessary. Thankfully. 3 A's.

• RE - 80/90
• Biology - 78/90
• Chemistry - 79/90

I think, on the whole, thats a very respectable set of results, given that they are in A2 examinations, which, many say, are the hardest you sit in your life. The pressure has momentarily been removed. I can breath a sigh of relief, i still have a chance.

But the key word, the most essential word in the thinking ramifying from these results, is chance. I have not made it yet. There are still 210 UMS points to gain until the entire A-level course is finished, and those are enough to fuck up on. I have a chance, i do not have a guaranteed firmly accepted, unconditional offer. And i have to remember that. Zero complacency.

100% effort in all work. Only 100% is good enough now, because that is what i gave to achieve those results. And that was why i was so scared to receive them because, if they were not good enough, then my best, my 100% was not enough. And there was no way i could make up the points. But now i can see my 100% is good enough. And i consistently have to give that. Until all exams are over. Because to loose out now, would haunt me forever.

I need AAB but what i'm aiming for is AAA, not because if i aim higher than needed and fail it's alright as i still am safe but because i believe i can get AAA. And i would always, always, remember and regret underachieving.

I have a theory on underachieving academically and it is this; to deliberately underachieve through laziness and complacency is to spit in the faces of both those who have the ability but not the means to achieve and those who have the means but lack the ability. Because both those without the means and those without the ability try to achieve and hopefully succeed through sheer determination, but they have to try infinitely harder, overcoming many more barriers than the underachiever. To the underachiever it comes naturally, and to not appreciate the difficulty with which some struggle to achieve what they find easy, is selfish. #

However, if you do appreciate the struggle which others have and still choose to underachieve, you are an idiot. Which is unfortunately what i think of my stoner friend who is most happy achieving C's in his A-levels when he is perfectly capable (but too stoned) to achieve A's. And i tell him so. And he laughs. That's what too much weed does to you!

U's U's everywhere, plenty enough to go around. And a medical form.

The GF got a U in her AS re-sit. She got a U in her AS and was hoping to get higher this year. I am very worried for her. This is her third year of AS/A2 and if she leaves with only 2 full A-levels it will be terrible. I don't know what to say to her, or what advice to suggest but there most definitely will not be any "i told you so's" because, although i did, there is no point. She should have taken Film. Nice and easy. Not too stressful, and you're guaranteed at least a B. But she took music. And now she has to deal with it. And so do i.

This wave of U's is not making me feel uber confident about myself. And i was very nearly almost late for work because of a semi-explainable crying fit just before i had to leave. Sometimes i think, if i heard voices, then i really would be 100% schizophrenic.

Some icing on the metaphorical cake of life; a medical disclosure form from manchester asking for all health details. Which would normally be fine but..it includes mental health. And also requires a GP's signature. Which is fine, my GP is a knob who i've not ever seen, not even once since registering with him when i was 7. He'll sign the form, cross the T's and stamp the stamp. It's just the practicalities that worry me. Because, at one point in my hypothetical training IF (a capitalised IF) i get the grades, i will have to expose my fore-arms. And unfortunatly the scarring looks as though it is permenant.

There is very little colour in them now and what's left is a..like a very thick stretch mark. But lots of them, going downwards from my wrist to my elbow. But, regardless of what they look like, they are there. That is my dilemma. They are there, obvious and glaring. And i think they always will be.

So, the questions in question; "Have you ever been affected by mental health problems eg. ...over-dose or self-harm.." answer; tick "yes" or "no" box, give details (condensed into 3 lines) below. "Have you ever received treatment from a psychiatrist, psychotherapist or counsellor?" answer; tick "yes" or "no" box.

If i lie, i lie directly. It is not a case of a non-truth. It is a lie. And at the bottom it says "i understand that if this is later shown not to be the case it may result in the offer of a place being withdrawn or reconsideration of my suitability to continue with my course." so, regardless of if they would or not, they hold the right to chuck me off.

I want to be honest; i want to talk to Hilary (that will take some balls) and ask her to write a letter briefing them and explaining to them that i'm fine. Because that way is better, there is no deciept. But fuck me it will be hard to call Hilary.

This makes me glad of one thing; that the NHS do not hold any of my records. That i am not at the mercy of my G-fucking-P. That i will never, ever, have to formally declare my history unless i fully wish to do so. Because none of it is on file.

I think i will have to call Hilary. Because lying is, well, you can't really lie about the writing on the wall now can you?

Results

Results are back from the January exams. I do not want to know. I want to and will attempt, to live on in blissful ignorance for as long as i can. Because, if i think about it, then i start to cry. So i don't think about it. If i revieve them, apart from forcing me to think about it, if they are bad, thats it. It's over. Finished. No more Dr Belle. Thats what scares me so much, thats why, whenever i start thinking about the results, i start to cry.

There are, of course, ways around it, but Medical schools specify that each A-level taken is achieved in a single sitting. Last year i fucked up. And my AS scores are not as good as they could have been. So i could re-take a module in Chemistry in June and hope that the University accepts the circumstances that caused the poor grades in the summer exams. And i could, if the Extended Essay is marked harshly, sit an exam on the same module in RE. But it is fiddly and could still result in a rejection on the grounds that i didn't achieve the grades in a single sitting.

Nat called me whilst i was with the GF, in tears. She had just recieved a set of results. Two AS re-takes and an A2 module; UEU. Everyone, it seems, has done poorly.

If i don't do well in the January exams i'll never meet the conditions of my offer. And the worst thing is knowing that, knowing, even before you've sat another load of fucking exams, that it is impossible for you to follow your dream.

Offer

Despite all my worrying, i've recieved an offer to study medicine at Manchester.

Quite miraculous really.

I still think the interview was a bit crap, but..there is also something else i think. And for the logical person that i pride myself in being, it's quite strange, or, maybe not strange, but..unexplainable. I think (and i know it sounds slightly cheesy) it is my vocation or calling to be a doctor, to do my bit for society in the way best suited to the skills i possess. And i wholeheartedly believe i was saved for a reason. Because there was a hairs breadth between life and death at one point.

There is a reason i'm here, there is a reason i'm stable and happy and able to positively contribute to society. And i believe that reason is God. He saved me, in some form. And he guided me, and is continuing to guide me, through life. Because i could very easily have died. And i could very easily still be destroying my on body. But i'm not. I'm going on to study medicine in 2008. So, by 2015 (or thereabouts) i should graduate Dr Belle. And i will devote my life to saving others'.

It struck me as i was washing the dishes after making the second lot of pancakes with the Beavers, just how much work i do with others. Peer mentoring both one on one and with a form and running Beavers. It is a lot. And it is a FUCK load (lol) of a lot more than a very large proportion of my friends do. And i work part time. And i keep on top of my studies. But then, i wouldn't have it any other way.

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"Know thy self time"

My head of year has a phrase and that phrase she likes to repeat, weekly, in our Monday morning assemblies. That phrase is "Right people! It's know thy self time." For the past month she's said it, in increasing frequency and now it has reached its maximum. I don't think she could have spent any more time attempting to emphasise her point if she tried.

The entire hour was devoted to emphasising the "know thy self" theme which she has been persueing for the past month. But not in the nice, conventional sense. Oh no. We were not lucky enough to recieve the censored version. We got the full frontal rant that lasted for 45 minutes. And was followed by a "know thy self" activity.

Essentially, the message was; you lot (all of you but 20) are going to fail. And you don't seem to care about it. And time has very almost run out for you to change things as there is only 6 weeks left until exams, so, you need to realise that. You need to know yourselves.

Now, of course, me being a reasonably intelligent girl, well, i at first thought this was not directed at me. And then i thought a little harder and, well, the "know thy self" penny kind of dropped. Or, put it this way, the penny was up there at the top of the Eiffel Tower and i was down there at the bottom, my fingers in my ears. It was dropped, gained speed and reached maximum velocity just before smashing into my head, splitting it in two. It shattered my illusion that i was doing enough work into a thousand tiny little pieces and effectively ruined the rest of my day. Which was not fun.

And it made me cry a little. It is an incredibly depressing truth, furthered only by the even more terrifying reality that is January module results day. Friday. That, i really am dreading. I really, really, do not want to know what i got. I am happy in my blissful ignorance..oh gosh..the tears are coming again. It scares me so deeply because if all does not go to plan and i do not get 90% then there are well and truly are no more chances. There is nothing i can do. The dream is over. So if i do badly now, then i'm super fucked for the june exams. And by bad, i don't mean 45% i mean anything short of 80% because anything short of 80% will mean i'm fucked. And me being fucked would be a very, very, bad thing for me. Because i'd..well, i wouldn't know what to do. I wouldn't have anything to do. It would be a disaster.

So..i think i'm allowed to be slightly shitting myself about these results.

But at least i "know myself." Socrates would be proud.

I wouldn't

I was feeling a tad depressed without the GF and i realised.

Even if i did get the opportunity, i wouldn't sleep with or even enter into physical contact with TFO.

I love the GF too much to hurt her. And perhaps thats what love is; refusing opportunities which you'd normally jump at to prevent hurting the ones you care for.

Flirting?

So, what really is flirting? And how obvious does it have to be to be classed as flirting. Can a simple touch be flirting, or, alternatively, a sideways glance in their direction? What is it? I turn to the built in dictionary on my mac. And it is quite helpful. Within western society these are;

• Eye contact, batting eyelashes, etc.

• "Protean" signals, such as touching one's hair

• Casual touches; such as a woman gently touching a man's arm during conversation

• Smiling suggestively

• Winking

• Sending notes, poems, or small gifts

• Flattery

• Online chat is a common modern tactic, as well as other one-on-one and direct messaging services

• Footsie, the "feet under the table" practice

• Teasing

• Consistent meeting

But i think these pointers are very basic and serve only to crudely define to an unequipped observer what flirting may consist of. The true nature of flirting is much more complex and can not be defined in a series of bullet points. The act of flirting, i think, exists as a prelude to physical intimacy and serves to entice the object of ones affections further. Also, it is a very feminine act as the subtlties are usually too..ambiguous for a man to interpret. I think, when a man is on the recieving end of a woman who is blatantly trying it, he will know, but otherwise many men remain unaware and in a state of blissful ignorance. Or not, as the case may be.

Personally, the flirting and or signals that i read and emmit are way below the usual radar of any man. I don't "like to lay it on thick" as it were and i most definately do not go beyond the slight touch of the arm. Which can sometimes be to my detriment. But nine times out of ten it doesn't matter anyway, as the end result is usually the same. Or, it was before i became attatched. There would be an exchange of numbers and maybe a snog. And then i'd avoid their calls and never see them again.

Gosh, i've been going round in circles and not really saying much here. For me, flirting isn't about showing your interest, sending the "i want you" subliminal messages, it's about gradually pushing the barriers which are usually present between two people, playing a game of perception and reaction, a game with two living players and no limits. And if the game they play is a boring one; then they loose out.

There is this person who i suppose i would call a friend as i know them but not too well. I think she fancies either the GF or I or both combined (now wouldn't that be fun!) and i think i may have very subtly flirted with her. Unintentionally of course. After exchanging a few words, she inquired as to how my interview went (how she knew i had an interview i don't know) and we chatted about university, she tried to light a cigarette and couldn't. Without saying anything i took the lighter and lit it for her. It was only a few seconds but there was a boundry that was crossed.

As any smoker will know (i myself am an ex-smoker) it is a strangely intimate thing when someone lights a cigarette for you. Both couppled around a single lighter, heads bent down together, near enough to feel their breath on your skin. And then it was over. And then i was walking away. It was a strange encounter. I don't fancy her though. So there's no chance of straying loyalties.

The Master Plan (how to shag TFO-that sounds rather crude..i need a new word to describe shagging) needs careful consideration and deliberation over the maze of body language and "flirting" tactics that will be used. But, in the end, one thing needs to happen; a kiss. Once that line has been crossed there is no turning back.

One of the mentee's said a funny thing in a session; "there's one thing that you have over teachers; they can't touch you." And it's true. And it exacerbates the problem even more. How on earth to act when a simple touch is so taboo.

Oh, fuck it. Who cares. Whatever happens will happen. And my new word shall be sleep with. And this is no game to me. I joke, but if something were to happen i understand how imperative secrecy is.

Due to the interview i missed the only lesson i have with her and she asked a friend to give me some work. The friend, knowing the situation, explained this to me; "TFO (i also need to find a new name for her) started to write a note on the work but then scribbled it out again. It might have been because she only wanted you to read it and knew that if i gave it to you, i would have read it." I don't know what the note was about, what her reason for writing it was or why she decided against it but i know that to start to write and then scribble something out is unusual behaviour. Also, she has casually come into every lesson i have with the other teacher. Every one, ok, there have only been like 3 but still. It's 3 more than usual. And just before she leaves she surveys the room, looking for what, i don't know as my head is always avoiding eye contact. Oh, how gay i am.