I am totally froodingly happy right now. I burble with pleasure. I am, in fact, feeling an amazing amount not like Colin.
Today was acerbically normal. I did get work done. A fair amount, actually. My Spanish family tree was pathetically small-self, sister, two parents, two grandparents, uncle and partner, STOP) and therefore was done early. I also wrote a startlingly bad poem about stuttering. Really bad. You see, poetry is not my thing. Nor has it ever been. Talents and me go together like Cool Whip and Dijon mustard, as in they don't at all. I am strikingly, startlingly bad at everything. Oh well. I'll make it-perhaps. Being the only hoopy frood in a school filled to the brim with ignorant prepsters is more hard than you might think. If you can still think after prolonged exposure to this blog. C'est la vie.
In other news, I have InTouch and Girl! en Deutsch. Doh? Ja.
I am going to watch Jeeves and Wooster. Stephen Fry makes me happy.
Who you fighting for? The Great Green Arkelseizure?