I love a good notebook. I barely write in the things, not wishing to befoul such a pristine work of art as the blank page. But people will insist upon giving them to me at Christmas, so I do build up a collection in my various travels. And none more so than in educational environments, wherein the things are handed out like flyers. Throughout my various exploits in all forms of education, I've developed even more of an affection for notebooks, and definitely the things that could be contained therein.
When I was in the sixth form, two notebooks started circulating around the students, various people adding bits to them like that collection in American Pie. One of them, "Den Buch das Dude III: Ein für der Strasse", belonged to Lightsinthesky - yes, it was the third in the series, a collection of random drawings, stories, poetry and sexual lustings produced by Lightsinthesky himself (under the inventive synonym of "Dude"). As a friend, I featured in these books a lot, although never in a particularly positive light.
The third was a lot more interesting. This belonged to a group of girls and it shed more of a light on sixth form life than The Book of Dude. Among their musings - which everyone was allowed to add to, by the way, which is what made it so interesting - there were a number of lists. "Hot men, in no particular order" (containing Orlando Bloom - I never saw the appeal myself - and Simon Thomas from Blue Peter), "fit women, in no particular order" (written mostly by the boys, comprising entries like "all the women in porn films whose names I can't remember"), and a list of the most physically attractive boys in the sixth form.
|What's a glist?|
It was quite a selective list.
All the boys I'd expected to be in the top 10 were on it - this didn't include Lightsinthesky, but Music Man was at number one, followed closely by the guy with the eyebrow piercing, several of the punk rock boys, the computer god in the upper sixth dating one of the girls who wrote the list, and me, at number ten. Pleased as I was at having made the list, I couldn't help feeling that there was a slight quandary surrounding the last two positions, and eventually I was bumped down to number 11 (and therefore off the list, as only the top ten were written down), usurped by a guy called - you couldn't make it up - Brad.
To be fair, I wasn't really upset by this. My mother thought it was hilarious, which gives you an idea of her level of humour. But then I had a slightly twisted sense of what was attractive back then, anyway. I added Rasputin to the "hot men" list at number 67, after which was a complicated and well-thought-out note by one of the girls that this was not a great addition, as he looked like a corpse, and that Boney M's song was very complimentary, but false.
Now that's good rationale.