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LAST EXAM IS DONE WOOT WOOT!

And omg, I've never been in such a trainwreck in my life. Don't you just love it when you turn the paper over and realise that there are questions on it that you've never been taught in class? Oh yeah. Hot.

It's not the teacher's fault, I hasten to add. The one question that threw me most of all (there were others but I could at least guess at them) was, 'Explain why Woodrow Wilson sent troops into Mexico in 1916?' Ummm OK. I have no idea. The only reference made to this in class was that the Zimmerman Telegraph in 1917 was especially sensitive because there had been border skirmishes with Mexico the year before. Who the hell knows why? In a module spanning over one hundred years of American foreign policy, how is this in the least bit important? I don't see what sending troops into Mexico actually has to do with foreign policy, apart from Mexico being a foreign country. /rant

Anyway. I looked it up on the 'net when I got home. Apparantly it's to do with Pancho Villa which at least means I got the bit right when I said it was to do with revolutionaries wanting to destabilise the government. Total guess on my part and there was a load of other shit that I got wrong because I literally just made up anything to stick in there. I can't wait to see what my teacher says about that one tomorrow because of all the things to fucking ask about.

OK, I am done ranting. EXAMS ARE DONE WOOT WOOT! I will definitely be re-taking this one in January but at lest I can be reassured by the fact that it can in no way be worse than that one.

Sir Ranulph Fiennes has just basically said, on the news, that it won't matter to his young daughter if he dies on his next Everest attempt because 'she has a wonderful mother'. Because his father died before he was born and he was OK, he obviously assumes that his daughter will be.

That sort of thinking just DOES NOT COMPUTE with me. Wtf, man?

...the weather is telling me that the temperatures are about to plunge for the next few days...and oooh, sleet and snow is expected at the weekend. I love winter but I wouldn't be adverse to a bit of warmer weather now that it's April. Heating bills are restrictive and not having to wrap Evie up in layers and layers every time we leave the house would be rather wonderful. Again, wtf?

As for the rest of my day...hahahaha. I was told to go get my money in cash today if it hadn't turned up in my account. So I go to the hotel this morning - boss is out. Car was just about out of petrol, no food in the fridge, bills overdue and hey, my account went overdrawn which means I'll get charged £35 next month. Thanks, you utter fuckwits who can't be bothered to pay your staff. Anyway, went back down this evening just on the off chance that the boss would be back. She was and coughed up without argument. Thank fuck for that.

And I have NO MORE CLASSES FOR TWO WEEKS HURRAH! Just got to pick some work up tomorrow and I am done. And then it's only five weeks left in total (+ 1 exam) for the rest of this academic year YAY! I enjoy learning stuff but it's so seriously slow at this level, I'll be glad to get it over with.

*sigh* So, for years and years and years there has been moaning and whinging that the arts are being neglected in schools and cut from the curriculum and not encouraged etc. The government finally does something right and proposes Culture classes for secondary school pupils. And what do we do? Bitch and whinge and moan that it's stupid and not enough money is being spent on it etc. That article doesn't properly convey the whinging I've just endured on the news. The story started with 'Is High school really the place for High Culture?' (see what they did there? *eyeroll*)

It's a good idea. Even if they're just trying it out for now, with the hope to expand it later, it's a good idea. And all the news does is point out flaws and why its improbable and puts a negative spin on it.

This is the Briish media. Negative. I hate it.

Driving down to flood-infested Gloucestershire happened in three hours on Monday, the fastest its ever happened. Coming back today? Five and a half hours. I HATE HOLIDAY TRAFFIC! AND SCHOOL HOLIDAYS! AND CARS! AND MOTORWAYS! AND FRIDAYS!

Other than that, the week was OK. Midwife says Scribble is doing well. Thanks to mother, said child now has (I think) all essentials needed for arrival in the world such as changing mats, car seats etc. I also won't have to buy food for like, the rest of the year or any other household goods for that matter but that's normal when I see The Parent anyway, so allgood.

Incidents of a more unfortunate nature - heh. Well, we all know insomnia sucks, right? Mother has this solution in the form of some kind of lemon herbal tea stuff. At 2am one night, after lying awake for bloody hours, I give in and go to make some. I can't bear herbal tea normally but thought it was worth a shot. Mother joins me in the kitchen and despite proclaiming that the stuff doesn't taste of anything at all, proceeds to ply me with honey and half a lemon. So, fine. Only I'm tired and the lemon is in a tupperware box and as I try to force the lid off it - HAHAHA! I found out it does hurt when you upend a cup of just-boiled water all over yourself. Joy!

Luckily, was wearing loose clothing so it didn't do too much damage. Some blistering, large patch of red skin on stomach, nothing too major. Good thing mother is a nurse really and has handy nurse stuff for putting on burns to limit the damage. Still. Was very bad for the insomnia as frightful pain is not conducive to good sleep. Ah well. Didn't hurt too much by later on that day so no worries.

Also a touch worrying - mother's repeated comments (when faced with anyone she's buying baby stuff off) along the lines of, 'We're due in October,' and 'We don't know what we're having yet.' This happened so often I was forced to ask her whether she'd got herself pregnant as well and was trying to break it to me gently. She just grinned and told me that I was to let her enjoy it because it'll probably be her only grandchild. Granted, it probably will be. But its never a good sign when my mother has laid claim to something because she does tend to keep her claws in. This morning she had managed to re-invite herself to the delivery, despite me having had words with her about that in the past. Hmmm. This needs an eye kept on it. I'm not having Scribble unduly influenced by her. Lord no.

On a disconcerting - and somewhat related to above point - note, I mentioned that I was going to make a will at some point soon, to make sure Scribble is cared for if something happens to me. Not much good hoping Steve would step up if I died, so broached the subject with Mother...only to find that she'd already talked that over with my sister. And they'd already decided what to do about it! Um, what? I was left with the vague feeling that my own family might be about to murder me to get their hands on my kid. Perhaps I'll hold off on writing the will - if the baby would automatically go to its father, I may yet have a chance of survival.

In other news - my QasF DVD's that I ordered about three weeks ago finally arrived. On Monday, when I wasn't here. They have been signed for by someone I have never heard of. HELLO?! There is no note under my door/downstairs with the mail/anywhere pointing me in the direction of where they might be. Or who with. Omg. Gay.

With that, I depart for much car-unpacking. I swear, I could equip the entire UN peacekeeping force with the contents of my car at the moment. The pregnant female ones, anyway.