Skip to main content

Past Encounters

 

Past Encounters

 

 

 

 

Hi.

 

I visited my old school the other day. My old stomping ground. My college were taking us for a coffee morning. A friend of mine told me. My reaction was this: ‘no-no-nuh-no-no! not going back there – woah!’ or words to that effect.

I wasn’t bullied. I wasn’t given six-of-the-best with a belt. I wasn’t given a dunce hat and forced to sing ‘I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General’ or anything.

This was because my school had been a part of my life for (pulls up calculator – not even a joke – I think it’s called dyscalculia) fifteen years. Because of that I’d put a line under it … it was the end of that chapter.

However, as soon as I stepped into the Primary Hall, the grudge feeling melted. I was particularly in a docile mood that day because it marked six years since I fell in love (I keep  a diary, ok? she wouldn’t date me because I was a wheelchair user and I ended up gay anyway so…)

I saw old teachers. Some retired, some part time now. One I was glad to get away from (he was as mad as a Greggs without a queue) one I was delighted to see (but I email her stories I write anyway…)

I then saw my all time favourite teacher. She taught me for three years in the early to mid 2010s, and taught me everything there is to know about the English language – including, auxiliary verbs, proper nouns, and never using a comma then and ([1] But I always do because JK Rowling, Roald Dahl and Terry Pratchett do.)

I told her everything. She’d retired many years ago so there was a lot to condense, but I forgot to ask after her son. But I kept saying ‘it’s so nice to see you…’ as opposed to ‘YOU’RE NOT DEAD?’ and I mean that nicely.

 

 

Bye!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Xmas Message

  Hi. Merry Christmas and all that. I like Christmas. It means different things to different people. To some, a religious festival I think it’d be sacrilege to suggest otherwise ( ‘er, yes, Joe, darling, it was an angel …’ said The Virgin Mary.) To others, like me – it’s a celebration of winter, and times gone by. I believe that now – and I’ll tread carefully around this (sorry ‘m a wheelchair user, wheel … skirt?) but in a UK where we have … people who own all night shops and money laundering barbers, and park on the pavement. ( NB To not come across as a Daily Mail writer my gran is Jamaican – and for the sake of argument had a job and didn’t sit watching Real Housewives of New Jersey yet somehow can’t say ‘hello, how are you?’) For new readers, I’m not normally this political but, hear me out. Christmas has lost it’s religious meaning. (Look ‘pon Mariah, would she be allowed in for Midnight Mass like that?) I’d say Christmas is a time for family. For some that’s a granni...
Post a Comment
Read more

Birthday Blues

  Birthday Blues       Hi. Sorry I’ve took a few months off, I have this thing called a life. So how are you? Good. Good. Hmm. Right. So yeah, it was my birthday at the beginning of this month. A few days before we went down to Whitby (me and my family) and came back the night before my 20 th – stopping off at an aunty’s birthday dinner at a posh restaurant. Whether it was the four hour drive, or the beef (it was so pink I asked for a defibrillator) I don’t know, but I … er, saw it again in the carpark on the way out. Proper projectile stuff. In true me fashion I just sat in my vest on the drive home, saying ‘the sticky toffee pudding was rock hard … no, Mum obviously I never ate it, they’re meant to be soft.’ Then I was sick again once home. Proper everything. Just everything. Exorcist looked like CBeebies. I craved water but couldn't drink it. It was a hang over without the alcohol. Four times from four in the evening ‘til eight on the morning of m...
Post a Comment
Read more