That is an actual sign on an actual washroom door. That alone singlehandedly restored my faith in Society on a muggy Thursday afternoon.

People seriously need to start bringing Sharpies around more often.

... Sssso it's the last day before the end of the End Days! (or the beginning, or the end of the beginning, or vice versa...your pick)

In true Cara's-Notes fashion, a big chunk of my Duffy notes have upped and vanished. Which is supremely annoying; because I just know that in true Cara's-Notes fashion- they will inevitably reappear the day I get back home from the exam.

This ALWAYS happens, and I have tried EVERYTHING. Ring files, plastic files, dividers, binders, locks, keys, shackles...everything. Nothing works. It's like having three-year-old children but worse; because these ones don't cry and don't smell and therefore are a lot harder to locate.

Hence the majority of the day will be spent revisiting Duffy and redoing what I lost. Which is frustrating, but also neccessary, and probably also good revision. Thumbs up for optimism. (Y)

Does not help that C.A Duffy looks like a younger, slightly more psychotic (if that's possible) looking version of Susan Boyle on the back cover of the anthology. It distracts me.

On another note, I'm going to do some shameless hawking on my and Lisa's part, and: YOUTUBE TYLER WARD, GUYS. He's like Corey Monteith meets redneck hick (okay, same thing) meets Christian worship leader meets some really good biceps.

... oh yeah and the guy can sing.

He's really good. In some of his videos he looks slightly like a slightly more awake Kevin Jonas and sings infinitely better.

I also like how even before he released his Christian tracks, people were commenting on his videos and asking "...are you Christian? Because there's something about you..."

and i thought that was rad- and it's true, there IS something in his face.

[/end hawking]

By this time tomorrow, it'll all be over and I'll have purple hair.

Fantastic. Bring on the morning.

Tomorrow it all ends.

and freedom will come with a whisper.

I'm okay with that as long as it's into my ear.

cc: galaxy boy

re: a summary of today

A whole ton happened today (studying/coffee/walking around in hot hot heat notwithstanding)

but I choose to remember the best parts:

the incessant banter and high spirits the twirls, pirouettes, and coquettish glances from behind semi-hair (HA)

the strain running at the high, thin golden pitch that gradually collapsed into its own golden ribcage and lulled itself into an exhausted ennui--

the rift that comes from not holding hands will be bridged by the geography of earnest fingers. today for the first time in a long time i looked my pride in the eye and said "...no."

because there is a time for pride and a time for love

and sometimes we must kneel before the altar of knees and humbly say "this is my love, take it, will you take it?" and be brave enough to leave the question mark hanging at the end.

...and sometimes Love bends to kiss our fingers and says, "....yes."

Home was soft and chilly and grey in all the right ways.

the sultriness of microwaving chocolate chip cookies must not be underestimated, and this is something they don't teach you in your glossy magazines.

on the carpeted floor is the indomitable Lesson Of Being. Upstairs your father watches football on a kingsized bed in good faith, leaving you alone, and his faith is cupped in good hands--

-- hands that bend no laws; but move smoothly under them in a path so true it must have been charted by constellations.

in the meantime the angles of our cheeks are cradled in collarbones. the music is sand and africa like: chh-q-shh-shh-chh-q-shh and while breathing becomes the finest art it is MOVEMENT that seems most natural.

"everything was pure and nothing hurt"

the ceiling fan will sway for as long as you want it to, love.

Tonight I have laid my proud head on your proud shoulder.

Tonight i use the lose the words "mine"; "yours"; all in close proximity and loose as flax

for possession does not matter unless it is your arms around the curve of my back

possession does not matter unless it is Them against Us and they have seized the flag

Possession does not matter. Empires have crumbled for possession.

Empires have crumbled for love

but i know, of the two, which had the strength to first lift a broken wrist to replace the first broken brick

in the ark we shall later call Holy.

i dream of Africa in ways you cannot understand.

... So we're DONE WITH PAPERS!!!!

...no we're not actually. Not at all. We've still got two Literature papers and two Economics papers, which works out to 3 hours + 3 hours + 2 hours 15 minutes + 2 hours 15 minutes = ....oh idk, not touching my GC again, ever. From now on, I will deign to do Mathematics only in times of absolute necessity and fantastic sales.

I am truly glad this week is over, though- because it has been torture. (...ah, the generation of the Hyperbole... LOOK CAMBRIDGE I KNOW MY LITERARY DEVICES A PLEASE!)

The worst part by far, though, was studying for History. So much for the Humanities being Humane they are NOT. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Try studying Theme 3 (Arab-Israeli, RF, Indo-Pak) for 7 hours at a go (if you're an A-Leveller; you probably already did this, or more). There are some things even really good Christmas music and a hot chai tea cannot make better.

Another reason I'm glad the past week is winding down is because I've realized studying for As is kind of like hovering in a permanent state of PMS. Which sucks, because, y'know, I don't PMS. But I do have to study.

Point to prove case: I got back home yesterday evening, and my dad gives me a (or so I thought) accusatory glance and goes, "...I hope you're not going to be going out every night"

and I just BURST into tears. Right there, without any provocation. Going out? Every night? What is he talking about the last movie I've *gone out* to watch was probably...... I don't know; it's been that long.

Dad then goes, "...I just want you to be studying, darling". And in between looking at him with hurt, teary eyes and attempting to salvage my eyeliner wingtips from smudging i wail back, "...but I HAAAAVE been studying" and burst into a fresh round of tears.

God. I am such a brat sometimes.

So thank you, everybody, for putting up with me over the past few weeks. I'm actually pretty surprised I still have a house and a boyfriend.

Now: Onward to Lit. It'll be another cosy session @ starbucks tomorrow, with Erik (who can no longer be my little sister's Braces role model because his teeth are now perfect, and white, and straight! I hope he doesn't get prettier than me; that might take my megalomaniac complex down a few notches)

and then Lit on Monday. I'm going to do what I can and not worry excessively about it- because

1) I realize I only really do well when I'm enjoying myself and not taking myself too seriously. When I get too much into it and study myself into a frenzy, I end up epic failing anyway. (evidence: Math)

2) When in doubt for Wuthering Heights; just throw in a couple of words like "elemental passion" and "unwavering resolve" and "leaves reader with disquieting lack of resolution" and you'll probably hop up a few marks or two

3) Wilde probably never meant us to take him that seriously anyway.

So cruise into the wilde.

And if all else fails---- follow that wise old adage; and "keep calm, ramble on".

That's how most modern poets get famous.