Still Worth Living.

'Tis a miracle. Today I studied for an entire free period. I didn't talk to Richard or Kieran once. In fact, instead I read and annotated a torturous act of King Lear in its entirety, whilst Marcus glared resentfully at his copy of Cold Mountain.

Kat, though, is in her element. At lunchtime, within the space of two minutes, the boys had not only come in with "hot beverages" (two words which make her smile), but had also begun randomly yelling "scabby shit!" at one another. She laughed a lot. So much, in fact, that I really do doubt her sanity. Especially after the "are you local?" (in a mental Cornish accent) debacle yesterday.

Anyway. It's nearly half term! Yayness! But whilst we may not have lessons for seven beautiful days, the teachers are smugly plotting their revenge, doling out work left, right and centre. That means I have serious Shakespeare reading to do, intelligent essays on Plato... and a fancy dress, halloween/ birthday extravaganza slap bang in the middle of it all. Well, we've got to get our kicks somewhere.

...Hmmm. What has happened to Marshall? I haven't seen him in forever, it seems...

These past few days have been spectacularly dull, all things considered. Friday night, though, was fun. We dragged our carcasses to Pizza Hut and had those new cute little things with the garlic doughballs around the edge. One word: yum!!

"The problem is," said Uma, through a mouthful of chicken supreme, "that now you lot are all so educated that we don't have time for each other."

"Not strictly true-" Alex began,

"No. I just don't like any of you, really." I finished.

It's true, though. Teenagers have a very unfair repuatation. It's not all setting fire to grannies and hotwiring cars. We have so much on now, in one way or another. I rarely see people I don't go to Sixth Form with, which is unfortunate. Not, of course, that I don't love the gorgeous people at KSF. But variety is the spice of life. Or something.