A Curious Girl: More fighting, more unpleasant

In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of every glove that laid him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains.

Maybe this isn't quite as appropriate as it could be, but it struck me as rather inspiring. It has been strange today - Mr. R gave me a B for the essay I worked so damn hard on, which was annoying, although I admit I could see his point. It really needed a conclusion. Still, "embossed" wasn't my fault, the notes defined it as 'mad with anger' so surely I should be excused for misunderstanding. Nicky gave me the coolest mug ever (in my opinion) for me at least, as it was a Bubblegum one with a poem about 'Helen'. I liked it very much. Mum said that if she'd seen it herself she would have been tempted to buy it. It was just the perfect present, as I love Bubblegum and funny poems.

I'm hanging around with Nicola rather a lot at the moment, but I don't really mind - in fact I like it that way. Although she tapped me on the shoulder and I nearly turned the other way because she's always doing that to me... Never mind.

After my free Abi told me that Chelle's boyfriend was going to get into a fight after school. She reminded me to pray about it. I thought this was interesting, an agnostic going on atheist actually needing to remindme to pray. So I took her advice and did. It turned out to be a Sweaty vs. Trendy Affair, very Holly van Daan-ish (see entry entitled Fathers and daughters) as it was similar to a story she starred in where the struggle is parallelled to Mercutio, Tybalt and Romeo in Romeo and Juliet. I was worried, Abi was worried, Sara was worried and Chelle was really worried. I walked up with Saz and Abi; when we got there, there were hordes of people there already - Chelle and the various Year 11 boys we know among them. There were also some Howard boys I didn't know. Some mouthy girl I also didn't know said, "There better be a fight because he hit me, and blokes can't hit birds. Don't you know that blokes can't hit birds?" Abi tried to speak, but Alan told her to shut her gob. Sara said she'd take me to the bus stop. In a way I wanted to stay. You fight for your own, and Chelle is my friend. But I knew I couldn't. Abi told me to pray again, and Sara left me half-way, telling me she'd phone me. I went to the bus stop.

I realised that sometimes you've got to have the strength to do something, and sometimes you've got to have the strength to stand back. I still don't know what was right, but I realised that, like Sara told me when we were on our own, I would have probably ended up enraged with that girl who said "Blokes can't hit birds."

Somehow, it managed to deeply offend the feminist inside me to the extreme. And a few other places as well. In my mind, a woman should stand up for herself, not get her male lackeys to beat up the 'bloke' in question. She should be assertive. I'm not for domestic violence, but a woman should help herself by getting proper help, if indeed the situation was that serious. But I don't think so. And that also implies that a woman could hit a man as hard as she likes. Crap. And that she wouldn't do any harm if she did, because she's so weak. And that girl was well built and taller than me, so I think she could easily strike back (although I'm a kind of lapsed pacifist, and don't believe in this) if she wanted to. And 'birds' is a disgusting label applied by chauvinists who see women as objects. Everything about what she said made it sound like she had a small space for speaking that contains set phrases she cannot deviate from. Pre-programmed. What a female eunuch.

Dave (Chelle's boyfriend) got kicked in several places, and went to hospital to check for concussion, Sara later told me. I phoned Chelle but she wasn't in, although her Mum said she was OK, and she was with Dave. I checked with Sara about the state of health of the various Chavs and Trendies as well as the others, (perhaps secretly hoping that that girl had been damaged, but despite her words, the girls had been pretty kind with her, I think. I admire them for that. It's what I would have liked to have been like if I had been there) but they all seemed all right. I assume this is true as Dave was the only casualty on 'our side'.

Urgh, I hate fighting. It brings nothing but trouble.

Note to any peanut-butter, cocoa, coffee lovers; all three of these things mixed well taste very nice. I had an experiment to christen my new mug with.

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