In which exams end

Hey, it's Wednesday morning, and I'm done. My mother wrote in an email that this is the first time since I was four that I haven't been part of an educational establishment, but really I don't consider my obligations to the university discharged until I've handed in all my library books. Which is why I'm going to the library today to get out some more stuff.

The Victorian exam was okay, although I was nervous about it beforehand, mostly because it started at nine and I kept thinking I was going to oversleep. I didn't, and I was able to write both of my prepared essays (yes, I prepared the exact number of essays I needed: living on the edge), though one of those only by stretching the term "domestic interior" quite a bit. I hope they'll be understanding. Did the detailed commentary/historical knowledge bit last, and showed reasonable historical knowledge but no detailed commentary whatsoever. Had no use for either the Contagious Diseases Act or the finding of the first archaeopteryx fossil, sadly.

Afterwards I met Vicky, Iona and Reece, the latter wearing bermuda shorts, in Reece's room, and went to lunch at Indigos with Iona. Went celebratory shopping ( I got new sandals at Faith), had rumtinis in the kitchen, and in keeping with the rum theme went to see the third Pirates of the Caribbean. Annoyingly, it suffered even more than the other two from having about six plotlines too many, and halfway through I realised that Orlando Bloom with his tunic-type shirt and necklaces really reminded me of a German backpacker. Also, much like the second one, it started out very atmospheric and moody and full of nice simple visuals, and then it all got sort of lost in a riot of fish slime. (Towards the end I started feeling really sympathetic towards the navy because their boats and uniforms were so shiny and not covered in fish slime.) There were parts I really liked, though, and altogether it was an extremely satisfying thing to watch right after exams, particularly because we also had Cookie Dough ice cream.

I think I'll go for a run now.

In which I am surprised by Sunday.

It was only when I went to check the online comics at Dagbladet that I realised today is Sunday. I have prejudices against Sunday; it is a day of guilt, putting off work, and shops closing disconcertingly early. And it's cold and raining, after a ridiculously sultry Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. I feel kind of sorry for the British public who have a Bank Holiday and are supposed to be at the seaside in Cornwall, or something.

I do not have a Bank Holiday and am trying to work myself into the mode of "this [the Victorian exam on Tuesday] is the last exam I'll ever revise for, so I should ENJOY IT", but that's proving detrimental to my "don't get nostalgic until exams are over" policy. The last exam! Maybe if I do an M.Phil I can ask the faculty to examinate me, just for kicks. It's not even that I like exams; I hate them, and while I don't think they're academically useless - the standard procedure of already having an essay in mind, then cleverly twisting it to suit the exam questions, seems kind of dishonest but is a good mental exercise and teaches you to see an argument from several angles - I think they should make up a much smaller part of our assessment. And I really, really don't like taking them. The worst part is about halfway through the second question, when you've spent way too much time on the first one (all the Cambridge English exams are tripartite) and are starting to worry that you'll never get around to the third one, and your arm hurts, and the guy behind you is typing distractingly loudly.

Still, I'm slightly upset by the idea of never taking another exam. I think I just don't like doing things for the last time.

It hasn't been that traumatic this time around, actually - Prac Crit on Thursday was uninspiring but not awful; Tragedy on Friday was one potentially awesome answer and two okay ones. No freakouts or tears, at least not on my part. I've been chilling (and not revising) by watching quite a lot of old TV on what I think is the Japanese version of YouTube, with Japanese subtitles. You'd think this would be educational, but so far all I can recognise is the logogram (ideogram?) for "no". It looks like a tripod with a horizontal line on top.

Trying to think what I want to do between Tuesday and Friday, by which point Vicky, Reece, Alex the boy and Iona will all be done (Iona's done on Monday, but is going home for a few days after that). I shot down Sam's suggestion of "buy a crate of beer, go to Jesus Green, and be the most popular girl there". Maybe I'll clean out my laptop keyboard.

nuisances

Oh, and: I.A. Richards, in a letter quoted in "Practical Criticism", describes the first Prac Crit examination in Cambridge in 1923, which is the exam I'm taking, in a slightly different form, on Thursday.

"Beneath at the table are the victims. Beginning to show signs of desperation. Some of them horribly haggard. Some writing like nuisances, what a lot of rot. I shall have to read through this. Oh Alack! Woe's me. *I* now am depressed [...] I *couldn't* make up my mind about anything *ever* in this place or such a place. It smells of dead thoughts, a hellish stink. [...] I think I shall tell Magdalene that I won't coach any people any more for the English Tripos. It's iniquitous, profanation, to expect people to use literature for such purposes. It does more harm than good. [...] This is a dull stream of dry reflections, but this place is really filled with a numbing, dumbing devil. Oh poor people before me, you don't know how I pity you!"

in which I have a plan

I have now drawn up a plan for all the days until the end of exams. There are ten. Quite a lot of them are devoted to doing The Mid-Victorian Timeline, which is my quixotic attempt to learn the dates of every published text and important event in England between 1847 and 1872. This is actually useful, because it's a period paper and the examiners do not take kindly to being told that some of "Little Dorrit" seems like a parody of Ruskin's "Sesame and Lilies" (because "Little Dorrit" was serialised between 1855 and 1857 and the Ruskin lectures were given in 1865, obv), but mostly I like doing it because it reminds me nostalgically of studying for tests in high school. It is playing havoc with my social skills though, particularly with Vicky's college son, whom I constantly find myself lecturing on mid-Victorian social life. Last week I told him about Chartism, and yesterday it was the Contagious Diseases Act of 1864. I don't know why I feel he needs to know these things; he has his own exams to worry about, none of which have anything to do with 19th-century government initiatives against STDs.

Vicky herself has become superstitious of learning things that are unrelated to her exams, and will tell people to "stop saying information". This didn't stop her from telling us about the black hole generator that Scientists have hidden somewhere in Oxfordshire, and which they're planning to turn on in a year's time, potentially destroying the known universe. I cannot find this anywhere on the internet (searching for "black hole generator oxfordshire") and thus believe she's gotten mixed up somewhere. Hopefully, anyway. Any information on the black hole generator gratefully received.

I've ended up having seven cups of tea today (one for breakfast, two watching Peep Show with a gently hungover Sam, a three-cup pot at First Class Teas while reading Sophocles' Electra, and one with Vicky, vets, Tom and Iona just now) and am now going for a run to work off the caffeine. Then we're going to go to Nando's and have giant basketfuls of chicken, as no one can be bothered to cook. Exam term is, weirdly, so much nicer this year.

in which I find gainful employment

I just (well, I just got in to check it; I imagine it arrived a few hours ago) got a job offer by e-mail from the school that interviewed me on Friday and Saturday. I proceeded to wake up the entire house, as well as my parents, by phone. "You're going to work in MALORY TOWERS," said Louisa. WHY YES, APPARENTLY I AM.

This, combined with the Greek coffee we all had at post-Tragedy class dinner tonight, basically ensures that I will not get any sleep. But whatever, for I am going to have a job (an awesome job!) after graduation!

heavy heavy fuel.

When I left the house this morning, there was an asbestos removal truck parked outside the porter's lodge. Huh.

Though I'm now wondering whether someone filled in an online maintenance form about asbestos while they were drunk, as apparently they take those really seriously. The stair handrail in the house where Sam lives is now reinforced with plastic bars because he filled in a maintenance form all "STAIRS ARE WOBBLY, DANGEROUS".

I'm trying to make my "I just realised I'm no good at English or indeed ANYTHING, ANYTHING" funk go away by listening to the Dire Straits. It's working. Also I've got new classy black trousers that in and of themselves will ensure that I get a job. Somewhere. Yeah!

(The last paragraph brought to you by me having become British. "Realised", "I've got", "trousers". I must move to Vancouver immediately to practise damage limitation. Agh, "practise".)

"I just don't patronize any artificial systems that create needless suffering, that's all."

"Well, then I guess we won't be playing much Twister."

I went from mild curiosity as to where that line was from to certain knowledge (http://achewood.com/index.php?date=04122007) in a matter of seconds. Such is the internet.

Today has been a stupid day. I was late for Computers for the Incompetent, had to run and ended up almost fainting in front of the whale skeleton (there is a whale skeleton - in fact, several - in the building where I have my exams, but I haven't been able to turn this into any kind of threatening or comforting metaphor), then again as I was buying ice cream to get my blood sugar up (and because I wanted ice cream). But at least I had ice cream. And will not be shouted at by the college for missing the computer session.

Exam talk time. I wonder if it will make me more or less stressed.

there's something in the cellar / and i don't think it's wine

The adapter plug came! I have a functioning laptop, and the internet!

Unfortunately I can only use it to go on VictorianWeb for the time being because I literally have to write four (small) essays today. And go to the I Am Incompetent And Need A Computer To Do Exams registration session and the Help We Have Exams talk. Tomorrow though I will swim in the sea of connected computers.