Diary of an English student

Today (after a bit of confusion re: British summer time) Jen picked me up to go to Nic's new house for a bit of painting and decorating.

Everything was going well until we realised we had driven past the road with the new house on, and then there followed some complicated manoeuvring, and a rather strange man who laughed at us and waved a lot.

When we did make it to Nic's house, we put on our painting gear (sexy jogging bums already paint spattered, belonging to father - check, freebie t shirt from France - check) and set to, after a bit of faffing around.

Jen, Nic and Jo all got on with interesting stuff whilst I chipped horrible purple gloss off the skirting boards (why paint skirting boards purple? why?). Then we swapped around a bit. By the time more people had begun to arrive, we had already whitewashed Nic's new room (previously shocking pink) and myself and Jo had moved into the bathroom (also shocking pink - again, why?) for some major whitewashing. Come one o'clock, we were doing well - Nic's bedroom was being painted green, the bathroom was nearly done, and wall paper stripping was being done with gusto downstairs in the living room.

After a healthy lunch (!) of bread and nutella, we set to again. Shahreena and Sophie started painting the bathroom blue (a definite improvement on the pink).

By half five, Nic's room was practically done, and looking good, the bathroom was bluuuuuue and we'd started whitewashing the living room. Not bad for a day's work!

I got a lift back with Jo, threw myself in the shower and then had to contend with the 'rents accusing me of saying I'd be back earlier, because I had work to do.

Dear Lord. Do I not get kudos for spending all day helping a friend move house? Or must work actually rule my life?

Well.

I went to see Spamalot in London yesterday.

Wow.

I don't think I stopped laughing for the whole show. It was actually that good.

So if you haven't seen it, go! Go, dammit! Participate in funding the Pythons' pensions, because they certainly deserve it.

We also went to the Ideal Home Show, which was less entertaining, but has certainly given me lots of ideas about how I want my dream pad to look in hopefully not all that long..

Today was an effort to drag myself out of bed for, especially after getting back late, but I made it and even managed to drive home from work twice and to work once - woop!

Aside from that - nothing else remains but to endorse the title of this post.

You need us folks - you just don't like to admit it. Unless you are Eric Idle.

Which is one of the reasons I love him so much.

Thankyou and good night.

Its been a pretty packed day, emotions-wise.

I washed my hair this morning, which is more emotional than it sounds, but less emotional than any of the other events of the day.

Then I went driving with my dear mother.

Previous expeditions have been quite emotional, usually in a negative way - but today the principal emotion, certainly on returning home, was elation! Ooh yeah! Check it out! The girl can drive!

So that was nice.

Then, I read some driving theory stuff, had lunch and the like.. then at ten to one, just as I was finishing lunch, my darling mother reminded me I was cycling to work. For a 1 o' clock start. Great. So I ran around the house like a mad thing, threw myself onto my bike and barrelled it down the road. I probably would have just made it if there hadn't been a train at the level crossing - the lights started flashing as soon as I got near it. Typical. So I got to work at 1:10, but Jo (da boss) thought it was funny and let me off .. phew.

Work was unemotional, apart from dealing with a family of 3 boys, 2 of whom were twins, and all of whom were very loud, very fidgety and possessed of a rather annoying mother. I was tearing my hair out with them. Grrrr. Finally finished serving them and by then it was nearly time to leave - so I cycled home at top speed to find a house full of boys (Max and 2 of his mates) and empty of mothers. But curiously, some ingredients on the sideboard.. it was like the Marie Celeste, but half an hour earlier, or something.
So, like a dutiful daughter, I paused only long enough to have a puff on my inhaler before starting to make tea, and then ten minutes later, mother dearest walked through the door, having been on a run. Thanks for letting me know about that one.

But then all was fine, and relatively unalarming, emotion-wise.

Until the last episode of Ashes to Ashes. Whoa. That was a bit emotional. AND THEN to top it off, an advert for DOCTOR WHO straight after it. With the lovely DAVID TENNANT.

Who I am currently planning a trip to see LIVE on the OPENING NIGHT of HAMLET :O

Anyway, I should stop now before I break the caps lock key on my computer.

Says it all really.
I sorted all the work into piles - subject and then within subject. It looks very neat, apart from being all over my bed and floor. But hey.
Then I redrafted my English coursework. I had to work in all the extra stuff my teacher (the amazing, bearded Mr Binfield)suggested I add, and at the same time, reduce the word count. It was a tricky one, I can tell you. The word count now stands exactly on the limit - if you take into consideration the fact that 10% more is acceptable, and quotes don't count. So, on this premise, my word count of 2,936 is dead on. However, if an examiner questions my logic, I will fall to pieces, crying and questioning the reason for my existence upon this earth.

Then I had a driving lesson. But lets not talk about that. At least I didn't actually stall *on* the A14.

And then I came home, and rewrote (check out the theme here) my french oral presentation on the Academie Francaise, because it was too long. And now I can say it, speaking at normal pace with numbers and everything, in 56 seconds - so I actually have time to spare, woop!

And thus my work for the day was done. Tomorrow, I really must crack on - except that I have work work in the afternoon, yippee. Still, I get paid to do that, so it's not all bad.

It was only Friday that I had my first day off. So, that's Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday and Tuesday that I haven't done any work - and I was *at* work on Saturday and today. And the other days were Easter -related. So I don't *need* to have started revision. Right?

Apparently not. My brain is guilt tripping me into believing that by not working for the past few days, I have automatically failed my A-levels, flunked out of university and set the seal on my life as a no-hoper. It is irreversible, unrepentable, inexcusable. I should be shot.

Thus says my brain.

And indeed, when I look in my diary, I do begin to agree with it. Driving theory test, french oral, English coursework deadline - all of these are taking place between the 2nd and 10th of April. Won't that be fun. Added to this is the 2 hulking great Latin translations, the timed English essay and the mountain of history work I have to do.

And then there's revision.

Lord. If I don't write tomorrow, it's because I couldn't take the pressure any more..

I went shopping today, in Lakeside, en famille (as it were)
I bought a wooly waistcoat-thing.
That was it.
Sigh.

In other news, I also got a chocolate egg, from Thorntons. Sadly, its just been too tasty and I have already eaten quite a large proportion of it. But never mind.

I have to work tomorrow and I really can't be bothered - especially as I am definitely feeling the need to do some revision now.. this would not be a good year to just assume its all going to be fine, after all - quite a lot is riding on these results!

And that about sums the day up. Yes folks, its been *that* exciting.

So, after all my ranting about snow yesterday, I was rather surprised to open the curtains in a bleary-eyed fashion this morning and discover that everything was white - apart from the sky, which was a rather fearsome grey.
Yes folks, it actually snowed overnight.
Naturally, this woke me up somewhat and it wasnt long before all three Fagelman juniors were lolloping around in the snow, flinging it around and shoving it down each others coats/trousers/necks.
A rather good time was had by all.
And then, when we finished up pretty much all the snow in the garden (remember, this is Cambridge, not Scotland, so there wasn't a huge amount to begin with anyway) we traipsed indoors, bringing most of what was left in with us, where we dripped everywhere and had to go change.
I had told myself that today would be a day to redraft my English coursework, but I got distracted and decided to tidy my room.
Some would consider English coursework preferable to this mammoth task, and they would be right. I have cleared out my chest of drawers, wardrobe, cupboard and desk, and only my work desk remains cluttered (its pretty heftily cluttered, mind, so thats a whole other day's job). It has been pretty exhausting.
Meanwhile, of course, the snow has melted, leaving almost no trace of it's ever having been there.
Perhaps, as this post is entitled 'a white Easter', you expected me to make some mention of this important religious festival.. but, you know, being Jewish, we don't really go in for the whole 'Jesus' thing, so celebrating his death/rebirth seems a bit silly.
I expect we'll get some reduced Easter eggs tomorrow so we don't feel left out

What are the chances of a white Easter?

Apparently, they're a lot higher than for a white Christmas. But noone ever thinks to sing an Easter song about snow, do they now.

Sadly, if you live in Cambridge, you don't really see either.

I spent most of today at work, in the shoeshop. There were just three of us, and more people came in wanting shoes than I could have believed possible for Easter weekend.
Some of them wanted sandals.
I mean, yeah, the weather is changeable, but come on.. sandals?
Another crucial piece of information to help you understand my confuzzlement with their desire - today, it was forecast for heavy snow. It was already snowing by 8:30 am, and it continued on and off for the WHOLE DAY.
So why, why and thrice why would anyone think that it was the perfect oppurtunity to buy sandals?

The English, thats who.

You know, there are days when it doesnt seem to matter what you eat, and there are Fat days.
Today is a Fat day.
For breakfast, I had scotch pancakes with raisins and chocolate chips, then fruitbread.
Then at lunch, I was at Pizza Hut.
Then, already feeling a little on the chubby side, I came home, having promised myself I was only going to eat a little, and there was a MASSIVE M&S spread laid on by my parents, so I ate lots of yummy pre-made chinese food, followed by a chocolate eclair.

Like I said, Fat day.

So, its probably a good job that Katie couldn't be bothered to arrange with someone to bring my chocolate egg for Secret Easter Bunny today.
Not that I'm bitter or anything..
But, you know. It's a disappointment. And I wasn't the only one - Jo didnt get her egg because Shahreena's car broke down and she had no way of getting to Cineworld. But still - Katie has known she was going to miss this for ages. When Sam knew he was going to miss Secret Santa, at least he arranged for Nic to bring his present for Rachel in.
But it doesn't matter that much, because Jen's face when she opened the shoebox (which was all I could find in which to put the chocolate confection I had lovingly created) was priceless

So all's well that ends well.

We got given a text to analyse today in English that was from a blog by some semi-famous person called Kat Dennings. It was about a butterfly landing on her hand, and her being amazed at the wonderfulness of nature and the like.
It made me think that you don't need a butterfly to land on you to appreciate that the world actually is a wonderful place - even though it was wet, rainy and generally miserable, and I didn't meet any cute wildlife, I had a very nice day hearing about all the people my friends accidentally snogged at the Easter Ball last night, getting all sorts of forms signed and paperwork picked up and learning that Jen's friend Henry has worked out that she is gay without her ever having to tell him, and being alright with it.
So you see, even if a butterfly had landed on my hand, I doubt I would bother to chronicle the event in the detail this Ms Dennings seemed to think was necessary.
But then, maybe she doesn't have much else going on in her life.

Speaking of life, I went to Durham university Tuesday and Wednesday, to 'visit the department' - although clearly, the best bit was meeting the lovely people (Judith, Laurie and Jack), having a cider in the OLDEST BAR IN EUROPE (built in 1070, people - the Normans knew how to have a good time) and fantasising about life as a musical at Ely station with Eric.

Good times.
And no butterflies involved whatsoever.

There's some old adage that men are like trains. You don't see any for aaaages and then they all come at once.
Or something like that.
Well, my experiences of both just recently have been pretty demoralising.
For example. It took me about three days to buy train tickets to go to Durham and back for tomorrow and Wednesday. This is because I had to buy a Young Person's Railcard in order to save a hefty sum, but when I was told this (on Friday) I was lacking in the stuff necessary to acquire such a thing. I went back on Sunday with the correct things, ready to do the deed, but I got freaked out by the fact that I would have to pay for it all on my mum's credit card as the STUPID station does not accept Electron cards. I went back today and FINALLY got the bloody thing sorted out. At last.

And as for men..
About three weeks ago I asked this guy if the fact that we'd spent all evening chatting to each other at a party, with my head on his shoulder or me on his lap, meant that maybe a relationship was on the cards. He said he really liked me but wasn't looking for a relationship.
I have spent since then agonising over exactly why he doesnt want a relationship, being alternately cheerful and really down about it, and waiting for him to actually talk to me about it like he said he would.
Then, finally, today, I dragged him outside at the end of our free and told him to just talk. So he did, a bit, although the bell went before I could quiz him in detail, and then he chivvied me back to the kitchen to get his stuff so he could go hang out with his annoying mates.
And then I cried a bit. But it doesn't feel like it's sorted.

So, I think the new proverb should be - men are like trains. Unreliable, and I don't seem to have any luck with either of them.

I just watched Stardust. Happy times.
It actually is one of the greatest movies ever. End of.

In other news, I had a good day. I efficiently did most of my homework (not all, but hey ho) this morning, put shopping away when it arrived, and had lunch ready for when the wee beasts came home.
Then Jen picked me up in her car and the fun started
We went to Starbucks in the retail park and Nic got us cheap coffee (well, hot chocolate in my case because I can't be having with this coffee fandango) and then just gossipped for aaaaages about everything. Especially a big party a load of them went to on Friday. Because, hey, we are teenage girls. Gossipping is practically our life. But it was all very good and quite good fun. Then we drove to the station and I once again attempted to buy train tickets for Durham.. sadly, the station does not take Electron cards. I mean, what is up with that. Thats just crazy. So, feeling very guilty, I bought my young persons railcard on my mum's barclaycard, but felt too guilty about spending mega money on it to actually buy the tickets as well. Sigh. On arriving home, I explained this to my mum. She laughed.
Dear me.
Feeling in a not altogether confident mood, we then went out for a drive.
And, as is hopefully evident, I survived! woop!
Ok, so the streets of Stapleford are not exactly a death trap for the unwary, but still. It was more the head being bitten off by the ravenous (and scary) crocodile that my mother can occasionally become that I was worried about. But as I said, I survived, head and all limbs intact!
Success!
Then we had a roast dinner and a massive chocolate pudding which looked like it had gone wrong but actually hadn't, and then we watched Stardust.
Bringing me rather neatly to how I started this post.
Rather like the story of Odysseus.
Except happy, and containing less reference to eyes. And no sex.
But I would've hoped you would have worked that one out.

I'm afraid that by wanting too much, I'll never get.
It's a dangerous situation.

First, I want a boyfriend who either is, or at least, is like, Edward Cullen.
I don't really mind whether he's a vampire or not. He doesn't have to sparkle in the sunlight. But he does need to brush my hair from my face, kiss the nape of my neck and look good in anything.

Second, I want to be able to sing like some of the girls who auditioned to play Nancy for the new West End production of Oliver.

I want a few other things too, but I'll come back to them..

Surely that isnt too much to ask?
Surely?

Well...
Apparently it is. But you know, lets just make the best of it. Life as it is isnt all that bad.

And that is my cheery message to you, dear readers, for this evening.

.. for me is probably breakfast time, whatever time that may happen to be. Usually pretty early in the morning.
Why, you ask. Well, partly its the big steaming cup of tea.. partly its the anticipation of the day, and the hope of fulfilling all the little (or big) tasks I have set myself.. but mostly its the interesting things I eat for breakfast. Like toasted fruitbread, or giant oranges, or toast and marmalade. These really make my day
Another thing you may be asking is why I am writing about my favourite time of day. Well, it's because there's a book next to my computer. It's called 'Twilight'. It's by Stephenie Meyer, and it is actually amazing. I only finished reading it this evening, and, as I haven't got the two sequels, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it.
Twilight is a vampire's favourite time of day.. so I guess what this proves is I'm not a vampire.
Well, that's good to know.

In other news, there is no other news. Today was spectacularly unspectacular. And the three tasks I set myself? Well, I found my inhaler. That was pretty crucial. But I failed to buy train tickets (although with good reason..honest) and I forgot to collect some forms I had left with my Latin teacher. And then there's still the big task which it looks like it could be a while before I accomplish - namely, talk to my crush.

And thus was my day. Tomorrow looks set to be just as good

So. I spent Tuesday being driven around by Jenny. But on Wednesday, I did the driving, woop!
Actually, it was a bit of a debacle. My reactions were slower than a snail on dope and my clutch control wasn't up to much either :S but never mind. The main thing is it didn't make me cry..

Today, I didn't do any driving, but instead got my bike out for the first time in a while. It has finally been fixed, yay! It was so good to have my two wheeled chum restored to me.. the seat at the right height and the gears easy to change. What a relief.

As for the rest of my day.. well, we played Latin Cluedo in Classics Society.. I was Cicero (purple). On the first game, Eric guessed right straight away, which was the biggest fluke ever but quite amusing.. the second game was better, though - it was Mark Antony at the Column of Marcus Aurelius with the rope. I kid you not.

Latin was quite a laugh too - Sarah got us to make up our own sentences using a new construction - ours was 'cervus captus a leone, eoque horridens, consumptus est'. Sarah reckoned we couldn't have packed more action into that sentence if we'd tried. Which was probably true. But the hilarity came in the sentence of Lizzie and Tilly, for which they used a Latin dictionary and the words 'jelly' - quilon - and 'cake' - placenta.
What person would eat a cake if it was called a placenta?
I don't think I would.

It rained on the way home, which was unfun, but I didn't get too wet as I was wearing mum's leather jacket

Ho hum. Now to history homework.
Can you sense a bit of a theme here?

This was going to be about history, and, I believe, the Nanny state.
Sadly (or happily, depending on how you look at it) it'll be about neither of those things.
No, today the topics for discussion are the death penalty and driving in Cambridge.

So. To begin. The death penalty. What is up with that? I wish it was abolished so I wouldn't have to write French essays about it.. because that is what I did today. Yup, 263 words in French on (and I quote) 'a votre avis, est-il possible de justifier la peine de mort dans un pays dit "civilise" ?'
Talk about a cheery subject for an essay.. and not just any essay, but a day off's essay! I mean, what is this? I call it grossly unfair. And get this. Whilst researching on wikipedia, I discovered that the death penalty doesnt even put people off crime. There is a higher rate of murders in some states with the death penalty than there is in the ones that don't have it.
Crazy Americans.

Happily, I only spent the morning writing about why people should/shouldnt be killed for their actions, and at 12:50 was picked up by Jen, Sam and Jo (Jen was driving, the others were just with her) to go to Wok n Grill for a Chinese food extravaganza, which we summarily had. Victoria joined us there, and though it got a little hairy towards the end when they were clearing up around us, we had a good time, for a highly reasonable price (especially considering how much we ate)!
We then repaired to Sam's to play on his Wii, on the quiz game, which I managed not to lose. Sam won with some painfully high score.. it's blatantly just because he is good with the wii
The problem arose when Jen rounded us up to take us home and Sam to his chemistry tutor. We left his house at ten to four. I made it home at ten to six. The traffic was DREADFUL.
I could have gone to London and back in that time...
Anyway, I have just got back from the gym, so it's really time to sleep. Especially as it is my responsability to take the wee beast (my little sister) to school

It's just struck me that your average blog is actually quite short, containing maybe one or two amusing anecdotes from the day..
It would appear that I am a little more, shall we say, Dickensian, in my approach to blogging.
As in, I recount my day in great detail with far too much description and subordination, and leave my readers (!) slightly overwhelmed with information, and with a vague sense that, while they may have got the gist, they certainly didn't understand the whole of it.
So from henceforth, I shall try to be a more responsible blogger and not drown people in unnecessary stuff.
Amen.

Speaking of amen, I read on the BBC site today that the Vatican has extended the sin list. Is that actually possible? Surely the Church can't do that, because it's all about being God's representative and stuff. So changing the religion kind of has to be done with the approval of God, who, lets face it, doesn't get about much these days. And if He is around somewhere and available for comment on new sins, why doesn't He do something about the terrible state that quite a lot of the world appear to be in at the moment?
Just a thought.

Another thought is - why do people say A levels are easy? Today I had to discuss how one should raise a child. In French. I don't call that easy. In fact, if you think about it, most people couldn't articulate how to raise a child in their own language, let alone someone else's. And that was just today. In my oral exam, which will be in early April, I have to be able to confidently give an opinion on the death penalty, euthanasia, abortion and a million other current affairs issues, all backed up with statistics and suitable vocabulary. An education in French isn't just about language, it's about current affairs. The french bit is the easy bit!

Thus ends my rant for today. Tomorrow's will probably be about the evils of excessive history homework and the Nanny State.

So, yes. Sundays. A day of rest. Apparently. Not so in our house.
Woken to the sounds of siblings clomping up and down the stairs, the way only siblings can. Half past eight is far too early to get up on a day when, in theory, I could spend the whole morning in bed. So I stayed in bed. But by ten to nine, I had given up and was in the shower, musing on the futility of sleep.
Happily, I was able to drink my whole mug of tea this morning, and by ten of the clock was almost ready to face whatever tribulations the day would bring. My optimism was increased by the departure of the siblings to Cheder (thats Jewish sunday school), leaving me to await the arrival of the Tesco van and the week's shopping in peace. On my mum's return from dropping them off we debated the possibility of a trip to town and what we should bake when the shopping chose to arrive, which it did at half ten and was subsequently put away with the great efficiency characteristic of two women working together.
Time for some Latin. Woop. A rather fiendish comprehension taken from Livy, known for being a right bastard to translate, was finally finished and three million years worth of history homework was embarked upon. Parliament in the reign of Elizabeth I.. I mean, really. It just doesn't bear thinking about.
I didn't have to struggle with it for too long though because I was charged with making lunch before the return of mother + sibling 2, sibling 1 having been dropped off at a lighting and tech course recommended for GCSE drama students at his school. After lunch, we once again debated the wisdom of a trip into town, and I won, so by 2:10 we were parked and on our way. Naturally, it began to rain. I made the rather shocking discovery that the books I will have to buy for university cost about £16 each. Rubbish, you say, that's nothing. Well, its not too bad, as my mum pointed out. But then I pointed out that there are 12 books of the Aeneid, each priced at £16. And there are 24 books of the Iliad, priced, also, at £16. So you see, 36 x 16 is quite a large number, especially for a student..
The rain persisted all around town. I bought a book in WHSmith which everyone has been raving about - Twilight - so it better be good, or I will be sorely disappointed. Then on to H&M and Zara, where I tried on a few things and failed to find something that either looked nice or fitted. Demoralised, I left and met up with my mum and sister. Naturally, my sister had been bought something. Sigh. While they went off to Boots, I had a look in Topshop, where I tried on 2 pairs of jeans marked size 10 that I couldn't get over my bum. Double sigh.
Came home in a grump and set to baking delectable eatables, culminating in a roast dinner. After a game of cards I was mocked for a) losing and b) being rubbish at shopping.
But how am I supposed to be good at shopping when the shops don't sell clothes that fit me? I ask you.
Anyway, on with the history homework.

I woke up for the first time this week to the actual sound of my alarm clock. I would like to point out this is NOT because I am a lazy bum that never sets an alarm clock, but because my ears have been blocked all week and I havent been hearing it go off. Not so today, woop! And I didnt even have to fight my brother for the shower. I did have to fight for fruit salad at breakfast though, a fight which I ceded to my mother because inside, I am actually a lovely person
The fruit fight made me a bit late, though, so I didn't manage more than a mouthful of my (huge) cup of tea before being chivvied out the door by my loving father. And then when I got to work, nobody was there because I was early and Val, who normally beats everyone in, was on holiday. Great. I thought I was in for a long and cold wait, but thankfully Jo turned up and let me in. Barely had 9 o' clock struck (as it were) when the first customer came in wanting sandals. I mean, I ask you.. it's only March!
The trend continued. The morning was pretty damn busy, and when I wasnt fitting some small angel (or snotty devil, whichever really) with shoes, I was reading a book in french about the relationship between the French and English languages, because I am that cool.
Lunch was uneventful. Returning to the shoe shop (yes, I get to have my lunch break at home.. don't hate me) and all was quiet on the western front. On the shoe front, however, it was still pretty busy and I was serving pretty much all afternoon, except for when I wasnt, when I read a rather ludicrous Robert Rankin book, having finished the French one.
At half five, hometime! Celebrations abound. Sadly, at 5:45 a lift home was still lacking, so I rang home and ended up being picked up at around 6ish, rather colder than I had hoped to be.
And now for a fun-filled evening of bumming around on the internet.. I'll do my homework tomorrow

so yeah, first post! crack open the champagne and all that!
Whew, i hardly know where to start. I guess .. well, one of my aims is to try and show anyone who cares to look at this blog that not all teenagers are completely reprehensible human beings, A levels are not easy and adults shouldnt put us down so much..
which are pretty lofty aims, i guess, so i'll just content myself with pouring out my irritation with the world for everyone to see
This has been a pretty good week in general.. results of January exams (not resits, in case you get the wrong idea, modules!), Jen passed her driving test so now we can go for ROADTRIPS, woo! and a lot of stuff feels like it has been sorted out. Apart from one thing, but thats ongoing.
So, to celebrate, myself and Jen hit the town (well) and went to Frankie and Benny's for an ice cream extravaganza. And when we had finished, we went to Bella Italia (next door but one) for a coffee/hot chocolate extravaganza. It was immense. Even more so because we had been planning it all week and it just rounded the day off nicely
As to other events.. well. Lessons were a bit of a non-event tbh. Sarah and Sarah got hysterics in Latin, much to the consternation of Mrs Contrino, I spent my English lesson looking for recipes from different periods of development in the English language, and I did no history in History but instead discussed whether Barack Obama is preferable to Hillary Clinton with Gitanjali and Anna, a conversation only broken up when Anna said 'George Brown' instead of Gordon Brown and we laughed so much Miss Smith told us off.
Is it sad that I can summarise my day in less than two thousand characters? Or does it mean that I am just very concise?
I suspect the former.