Interviews - DOs and DON'Ts (Mostly DON'Ts)

While I may sound like a non-model student, what you cheeky minxes may not know is I was accidentally elected as part of the student council last year.

Was it because of my killer looks or my charming personality? Or both? Or maybe my subtle modesty? We may never know.

Quick recap before we launch into this. In 9th grade, I wasn't a part of the council, and God was I sad. I cried for days, maybe weeks, and it was really pathetic. It just shows how priorities change in life, eh? That's all I wanted throughout 9th grade, I'm not even kidding. I just wanted that gleaming golden badge on my chest with the word PREFECT written in bold, black letters.

In 10th grade, I was made the prefect of my house, and while it was obviously a wonderful opportunity and I was greatly honoured, I cannot help but wonder if it was worth all the tears I shed? (Not being sarcastic or ungrateful, just philosophical.) Also, it's ironic considering how much I wanted that badge, and when I got it finally, I lost it within a month.

Anyway, for those of you keeping score, (i.e. none) I'm now in 11th grade, which means that the council is being re-elected. I really want to hold a higher post this time, but I'm not going to say anything about that, because I don't to jinx my (already poor) chances. The point is this, that today was the interview. Well, something of the sort. See one of my favourite teachers got transferred to my house and is now my house master. I think he just saw me roaming around the corridors today (I wasn't technically roaming around. I was doing important work. Maybe even for Obama. Maybe not. No. I was writing a speech. For my house. Like a good Prefect. 10 points to Slytherin.) and asked me to appear for the interview. The interviews for the post I want weren't even being held today, so I think that interview was just to mess me up. Or maybe it was the real deal, I DON'T KNOW.

Here's how it went.

They summoned me in.

I went in, panting. (I had been running. For reasons unknown to humanity.)

The teachers were all sitting there, maybe six of them, and they quickly sized me up.

Subject appears to be panting. Subject has on a short skirt, with sinister marks of blue gel pen all over the left side. Subject appears to be in a good mood. Subject's socks are of uneven length; the right is longer than the left. Subject's shoes appear to be unpolished since 1998.

I was still panting and they asked me if I needed a minute. Ah, this was a test. Or was it? Retrospectively speaking, maybe I should have said yes, I need a minute, gone to washroom, combed my hair, calmed down, maybe wiped the ink marks from my skirt, and the smudged  Chemistry equations from my palms.

But I'm all about the spontaneity. I shook my head. I was ready. Come at me.

They asked me why I should be considered as a candidate. Ah, I had the answer to that. I launched into an explanation about how I was a good academic student, but I also keenly took part in co curriculars. I told them how I had taken part in a singing competition (that was 3 years ago) and how I was part of the Girl's Football team (we came 3rd amongst 4 teams) and I forgot to mention the extempore in which I had actually gotten a prize.

Go figure.

They asked me next what changes I would bring if I were selected as a candidate. Ah, yes. I had the answer ready for that as well. I once again launched into an explanation about how I don't think every student is given an equal opportunity and how I would personally make sure that every student from the junior most class to the senior most class would be informed about every upcoming event so that they could, I quote, be given a platform to showcase their inherent talent. 

Shut up, that's pretty good. Don't be mean.

Anyway, they asked me a bunch of more questions, like my strengths etc. The highlight of the day was when they asked me my weaknesses.

"Um." I said brilliantly.

Oh God, I'm such a narcissistic witch. My mind went blank, I swear to God. I mean I have a zillion weaknesses. Too many to count. You want a list? Won't clean room, stubborn, did not know correct spelling of protein until 6th grade, hyper active, lazy, loud, annoying IT GOES ON AND ON. But it turns out that apparently not being able to list my weakness is also my weakness.

I stared at them for a full minute then I mumbled something intelligent like "Ah, yes. My weakness. Hm. Okay, yes...My biggest weakness..would..probably..um..be..ah, yes.."

I did that for sometime until I finally said something about being very underconfident and irresponsible and how I could work on this by being trusted with a post.

Anyway, they seemed convinced (I hope) and there was a lot of nodding, and oohing and aahing, until finally, a teacher said, "Beta, what is up with your hair? It looks untidy."

Lettus talk about that for a moment. It was the zero period. Like school had begun 20 minutes ago, and my hair was already looking untidy? Great. One point in Kapoorni's favour. Not.

Secondly, I'm very touchy when it comes to my hair. I don't care about how ugly I may look, I want my hair to look perfect. (Which it never does). I nearly burst into tears right there and then. Not because I was pulled up by a teacher. Not because I might lose the post. But because my hair was criticized.

Also, I ask you this, as one rational person to another, how do I make it look tidy? I got my long hair chopped off in January (for reasons again unknown to humanity) and now it won't fit into a braid, or a pony. Then I got a bang. Now I just stuff it into a cap or a beanie all the time.

The only hairstyle in which it looks a wee bit tidy is the one in which I look like a boy. Like seriously, a legit boy.

On an unrelated note, Izzy and I had a big fight one time, because I said I'd be hotter than her if we were boys.

It's true.