Works in mass destruction

It's been one of those days.

Biology practical, this time, and I've even worse at these than I am at the Chemistry ones. This one involved measuring the rate of transpiration in various conditions, and after I'd fussed with a potometer, capillary tube and armful of lush foliage for a good hour, I trotted out into the quad carrying the entire apparatus like some strange botanic glass offering to the powers that be. It was sunny, warm and windy (perfect transpiration conditions - stomata are open, increased kinetic energy in the gas particles and a maintained water potential gradient) and I set up camp in the middle of the grass, took off my labcoat and sprawled myself full length, peering at the the air bubbles in the tube before taking notes.

As you do, of course. The sun was shining down on me and I was almost enjoying myself. The windows in the downstairs Derby Wing were open, and I could hear Mr Evans teaching. After a few moments, I saw him come to the window, and whilst remaining in full flow about Roosevelt's New Deal or whatever it was, he made eye contact with me and made the universal what-the-hell-are-you-doing gesture, much to the mystification of the class, who looked out at me in understandable confusion.

I gave them all a smile and nod, and returned to my transpiring laburnam. I'm allowed a few eccentricities.

[Later, Mr Evans stopped me in the common room. "What were you doing out there?"

"Measuring relative rates of transpiration," I answered primly.

A pause.

"A worthy occupation."]

The day was like that in general - gentle and populated by eccentrics. The one lesson I really love each week is English on a Friday - a short lesson with a good teacher followed by a free, yay - and today, the text we were doing was an extract from Our Day Out. I have to say, I love that play. I really do. I think the Bored Girls are the best characters ever. They sound so right. "It's borin'! It's bleedin' borin'! I come here for a laugh!" And, a week and four days before the exam, I have at last produced what I would term a good essay. I wrote clearly, concisely, within the time frame, answering the question and following an established structure, and I got my A. Which is good, because I have really and truly screwed up everything else. I'm actually beginning to panic just a little bit. More than a little bit. I'm trying not to think about it. The point is, I got an A in inorganic Chemistry. But I got Cs in Politics, Biology and organic Chemistry (English mock is yet to come). I really didn't think I had it in me. I can either do very well, or spectacularly badly - both to be done with style. Mediocrity is not in my line, or at least it wasn't before.

I finished off today with my last Politics mock. The question was "Discuss the view that there is executive dominance of the House of Commons" and I couldn't remember what it was. I really couldn't. After talking a little about government scrutiny, I made a wild guess and decided the executive was the governing party. It was the first thing I checked afterwards, and it is apparently the Prime Minister and Cabinet. Which is nearly the same thing. Nearly. I'm grasping at straws, but I really don't want to have fucked up another mock.

The day was finished off nicely by another points failure. There were no trains, and I was stuck at Blundellsands for what seemed like forever but was actually forty-five minutes.

Enough about real life, I think. I watched the (random) Stargate episode tonight, and would like to state, for the record, that what happens to Daniel in Hathor is clearly Most Inevitably Inevitable Event Ever. He's so cluelessly pretty.

And more fannish stuff:

My WIPs, because despite the fact WsIP is more grammatical, the former is more pronounceable (which is not a word). Now I come to think of it, it should have been WsMD, not WMDs, but that's a moot point when you consider there was never any real need to pluralise the expression.

Yes, moving on. ( WIPs. )

Gacked from gamesiplay, although hers were much funnier than mine.

I'm going to bed now, but am not sleeping late, have decided. I will actually work during the day tomorrow, meaning Becca and I can go out to Southport tomorrow night to see Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and I will enjoy myself sans guilt.