UNGRADED

Results day is a bit like Christmas, that is if you knew that when you opened one of your presents there was a definate chance of failure and despair. It's an exciting day, and it brings class mates together to complain about how long it's taking for them to recieve their results and how everyone thinks they're going to fail.

I wonder though, how many people actually think they are going to fail. I have my doubts about one of my modules after I accidently did my third year dissertation instead of the much simpler, easier, form we had to fill out for our second year. Clinging onto the work I had done I was reluctant to let it all go, some of it got forced into the form and some of it just got sent to the recycle bin. Due to the circumstances I feel I have right to announce to my friends that I think i've failed that module.

The other three though, petty nerves aside, I'm quite confident I've passed. I'm anxious and worried about what i'll get though and I just know I won't get the 4 A's I wanted. The 4 A's I needed to apply for the just out of reach fellowship I covet with all the want I can muster. That's not to say I won't be happy with lesser grades, I just won't be bouncing off the walls with excitement, screaming 4 A's down the phone to any relative/friend/telemarketer that will listen.

Thinking back to past results days, the nerves have been similar. Awaiting a phone call from my Grandma, whilst sat atop the rock of Gibraltar, walking across the park in the sun, opening a letter that revealed I had failed music with flying colours. UNGRADED, that eight letter word abrieviated down to a capital U, mocking me from the over complicated form. The eight letter word that stopped me going to Uni to study music (which I'm quite glad of now), the eight letter word which threw all of my two years hard work in the bin. The eight letter word that stomped on the theory that if you try your hardest you will pass. The eight letter word which temporarily thwarted my attempts to get onto the Creative Writing course even though I had an UNCONDITIONAL offer. I was still a whopping 140 UCAS points over the required ammount yet the fact that I failed music meant I was no longer welcome on the course. The Uni got a quick bollocking from my music teacher, who later recieved incense and a lavender scented bear as a thank you -(Yes, i'm gay, do you not understand how this works yet?)- and I was re-accepted. Thankfully.

Last year I sat in my room, much like I am now, hitting refresh on the page over and over and over until my fingers bleed and I damage my wrists with RSI. Although I'm doing this, and writing a very wordy blog, I just don't have the time, I should be finishing my packing. You see, this results day is even more like Christmas for me, not only do I recieve my results, I get my pay cheque and I fly out to Spain in a few hours, so at least if I fail everything, I can mourn it on the beach with a bit of money to splash around rather than within the grey walls and traffic of city life.

My mind has been boggling as of late, with what to write. So many anedotes, thoughts and stories have been deemed UNBLOGWORTHY but suddenly i'm overwhelmed with thoughts and ideas that I feel the need to spout out ASAP. Perhaps I should review Sommerstrum or Presque Rien, or the book I'm currently reading Dumbfounded or even perhaps a review for the book store where I bought it... or perhaps i'll go onto the Uni website again, hit refresh a few more times, cross my fingers and hope.