Saw my little sister, R, off yesterday. She's going to Germany on a school trip. They left a little past midnight, so i drove up with her and my dad to the school. It's not a long way, hardly worthy of the drive at all, but i suppose it was because of her rather heavy looking suitcase. I, as always when i get the chance, went barefoot. I think i'm going to miss her. It will definitely be a lot duller around here with just me and my dad, (My mother having also gone on holiday with some friends, to a chalet my uncle has an apartment in in Switzerland.) who i often don't get on with that well.

My mother had hoped that my sister would go to my school's sister school. There are normally one or two joint activities between the two school's each year, including the school plays. But my sister didn't really want to. I think partly because she was afraid if she went to a grammar school she'd end up like me. She went instead to the local school, which isn't actually all that bad, as far as i know. It seems to be better equipped than my school. (I refuse to refer to it as 'my old school'.) And at least she was with a lot of her friends.

What was odd though, was the feeling of nostalgia. I seem to feel this way quite a lot, about almost anything. I think the reason was, vaguely, that if i'd gone to that school, i might have come out different. Better. For one thing, it's a mixed school, and it often seems that, in keeping with my stereotype, i do get on better with girls than boys. Apart from gayboys of course. I might have turned out better able to speak to people, for one thing. And i'd have been closer to people i'd gone to primary school with. They might even have ended up liking me. Or tolerating me in a similar way to the people at my school, at least.

But it's pointless really. The group of people that i'd been friends with (Which i seemd to split off from towards the end. I'm sure that's much more my fault than i ever took credit for.) ended up going to all different places. They were all girls, i was the only boy in our little group. One of them left about halfway through year six, i think. I was often quite mean to her. I really regret that now. The only person i still know is L, who i decided to get in touch with at the end of year eleven. I sent a letter to her school, which evidently she did get, as she responded. I actually got her reply on the first day of work experience, which made me much happier and excited generally, so my day wasn't as bad as i'd expected. We communicated for a while by letter. I've only heard her voice once in the last seven years, and that was over a year ago, when i was on the French exchange. Neither of us turned out to be brilliant at keeping up to date with our letters, though. When i finally got MSN (Which i pretty much credit for saving my life.) though, we were able to speak regularly and still do, and she's tremendous fun to talk to. I'd know count her as one of my best friends, i think. I'm definitely very glad of that letter i sent. I do wish i'd sent more though, to other old friends.

I sometimes see people i know on the bus but, being me, the social incompetent, i never say anything. Never more than a quiet 'hello', at least. Although they never seem much better, and these are people i always remember as being much more conversationally gifted than me. I even shared a birthday party with one of them once, as her birthday was only the day after mine. Everyone, though, looks pretty much the same as i remember them. It's quite scary, really, as i suppose it means i can hardly have changed in the last seven years either. But i hope my personality, at least, has changed. I was as horrible as those of us "at the foot of the social ladder" are ever able to be. So i was horrible to my friends, but not to the people who i didn't really like. Thinking about it, i am still like that. Perhaps a little less so, but that's still bad. And i don't think there's much i can do about it. I've never successfully managed, really, to change who i am before, just to exert a little control over the way i behave.

I reflected, last night, on the fact that i would be blogging this (I don't deliberately plan this thing, but i've started thinking in blog now, so as soon as anything happens, i've started mentally typing it. This has pretty much replaced the imaginary conversations and diary entries. Actually, i miss the imaginary conversations.) on the last day of my last year at my school. As i type this all my friends in the school are enduring the final assembly, an hour-long affair pretty much despised by most people who undergo it. It's mainly just a frenzy of prize-giving, accompanied with a little speechifying by the various teachers who are leaving, (This year including one of my favourites, Ms E (E for English, which i suppose makes my other favourites Mr E, Mr F and Ms L.) and the headmaster (Who will be wearing his swishy cape right now. He's constantly flouncing about the place in that old rag. (Perhaps i'm being a little loose with language here. I can't really imagine Mr H flouncing anywhere. Sweeping, perhaps. He sweeps about the place in his cape.)) and the school song. I never hated the school song quite as much as we were meant to. And i never joined in the chorus of coughing around the third verse which, when it was briefly stamped out, one of my friends was actually nostalgic for. The school song may reflect sentiments i've never particularly been desparate to claim as my own, (Most of it seems to refer to life being a game of cricket, and so on. Sport has never been my thing.) but i always try sing it with a little more enthusiasm than most people, though it's always hard to actually try sing above the dirge produced by most of the school.

It's pretty much over now, my last year. I suppose this means i can no longer refer to myself as a pupil. I'm now officially an 'old boy', with the disgusting tie to prove it. It really is a bad tie. It looks like toothpaste gone mouldy.

Will the sun start shining now the summer hols (Yes, i read a lot of Enid Blyton when i was very young.) have officially started?