Yokatta!

I finished my Clinical Science exam at 10 am today, and walked forth from the doomed lecture hall shivering but happy. That's 70% worth of marks I don't have to worry about anymore. No more lectures, tutes, assignments or exams. Until August.

I will never look at Bob the builder in the same way again. He was never an endearing character to begin with, owing to the fact that I was born a female and with the appropriately feminine instincts to follow. Nevertheless, an abberation in femininity may have been the choice delicacy of the day as my first page of exam questions consisted of nothing less than a SCRIPT of the episode so sweetly named 'Bob's Birthday'. In big bold letters I read with disbelief the following:

Code the following utterances for pragmatic function.

Dizzy: let's go watch wendy bake the cake for Bob!

Muck: Oh Yes! We can watch her from the kitchen window!

Dizzy: Baking a cake's easy! All you do is bung everything up into one bowl.

Muck: Yes! It's just like making concrete. (By this time I was thinking, "what?")

Muck: Bob loves the concrete you make for him, Dizzy.

Dizzy: I know! Let's make him a concrete cake he can keep forever! (I think I've really heard it all.)

Muck:(singing) Bob the builder, can he make it?

Dizzy: (singing) Bob the builder, yes he can!

Muck: How's it looking, dizzy?

Dizzy: Like Sloppy concrete.

And straightfacedly, every woman in that lecture theatre (there wasn't a single male in there) solemnly coded the functions of every one of those sentences. Concrete cake indeed. I find it amusing that I started calculus when I was 15 and now that I am to turn 18 in december, I have put away my math books and turned instead to Bob the builder. I wonder how the scriptwriters manage.

Mummy looks funny doing her work. She's trying to finish an assignment and declares that keeping warm is done efficently by warming the head. So every time I walk into the room I stifle giggles and ask her what the pakistani woman is doing. Very funny, says she, and asks me to check a sentence for her.

I have two options with regards to work orders. I could start on Freud, or go over my Human Comm Science notes. Hmm. I have supposedly finished those darn dreaded notes but I can't seem to remember any of it owing to it's dull, dry content.

I was looking on the net for polyphonic ringtones and found some decent ones... mum gave me a funny look when I stuck the phone under her nose and rattled out 'under the sea'. It's my new message tone, tee hee! Ringtones are difficult to come by because I can only take 4-chord midis... which is so sad.. but I managed to secure fragments of Chrono Cross. And some old Jap stuff. Think 'First Love' era. I was 13 then... I feel old now.

I should be studying but I'm so happy that the first exam's over that I indulged!! Over indulged, I should say. I relaxed over half a movie (I re-watch Studio Ghibli works by discs, which means half the movie) and trudged around the house to try and find a warm spot. It's nearly 3 and I should start work..

Hmm.. Sorely regretted not burning Nausicaa of the Wind from Su, if not for Nausicaa herself then for the wonderful OST! I know Rachel would want to watch it too, because Studio Ghibli is just fantastic! Maybe I will borrow it to burn it. Joe Hisaishi is a genius of a composer. (See! See! Another "J"!!!!)

Anyways, I've talked too much and studied too little, so I shall hike myself off to make some notes. After which, I shall use my Epoch Maker to make revolutionarily noble and memorable holes in my paper. (see Rachel's blog)

p.s. Mum says that scarves are dangerous. Think Edna Mode in the incredibles, think cape. Now, think toilet. Get my drift?