A Curious Girl: I hope this was worth writing past my bed time for

Great day, and never mind the fact that I'm breaking my sleep resolution and my hair is mank. I'm going to tell you anyway.

I'm trashing my dull dull dull yeast experiment, persuading Ian B. with some Monty Python ('parroting' it, so to speak). "It's dead. It's run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible. It has ceased to be. This is ex-yeast." Would have been really great if he'd responded, "Look, I didn't want to be a biology teacher. I wanted to be a lumberjack."

Susann and Madlen left today, which is a shame. Susann gave me picture of Winnie the Pooh, with her address and a personal message. I will miss her. She was fun.

Psychology was interesting, which is the only thing which makes psychology good - if it is funny, it usually wasn't a good lesson!!

Lesley C. wasn't in Chemistry, so John E. decided to take us, and get this!

HE GOT ANGRY! Instead of doing his usual ticked-off, Robespierre-esque (as in The Scarlet Pimpernel) type voice, ("OK, quiet down") he actually had a go at Adarsh for talking. "If I'm boring you, I'm sorry, but I don't have to teach right now, I'm not getting paid for this." I was quite touched. He actually cares.

So he's not a robot. The smiles could have been fake, but the anger certainly wasn't. I spread this piece of amazing news around a bit.

His cheeks twitch like Robespierre's. I noticed this today just after he got angry.

Christian Union was good. We were talking about the assembly we are going to do for Year Sevens. Lots of ideas. Should be fun.

Getting home was a bit of a nightmare. Had to wait for ages for my second bus, eventually getting on the 173. I was OK until it started going in funny directions, and resolved to get off after about the second stop at which I found myself lost, heading in the wrong direction. I was on Frindsbury hill, to be precise, right in front of English Martyrs.

Ask and it will be given to you. Seek and you will find. Knock and the door will be opened to you.

It wasn't like knocking on the door of a complete stranger; I would probably have met them, and if not, Stephen would have. I rang the bell to the Priests' House, thinking that even if they said no to letting me use the phone, I could ask for directions to the nearest phone box. But hey, they're priests not malicious bitter misanthropes. I didn't quite recognise the priest who answered the door (Father Paul) but when he asked for my name twice, I was certain Steve had introduced me to him at the Midnight Mass. He asked for my name twice then - must have little in the way of short term memory! Father Paul gave me a lift back, and thankfully I got home before Mum did and worried her brains out. He seemed incredibly pleased to help, and even said it was nice that I felt I could knock on the priests' door in time of need. I wonder what it's like, living with all those celibate bachelors?

Grandma will be on Fifteen to One tomorrow (all you Brits - why don't you watch and guess which one she is?)

Also I could have sworn I felt an earth tremor today, at around ten to seven pm. It may have just been a big lorry or something. It was strange though. Can anyone give me info? email galileo@did-the-earth-move.co.uk.

Oh, and one last thing. Thanks to Erin's poetry page I looked at www.scribble.nu and got myself a poetry page t last. OK, I already have a homestead one, but that will take more work and is more of a holiday project. There are nine poems in there so far, archived in the order they appear in my computer (alphabetical order by file name). Maybe some stories will follow. Enjoy.

As for God, I don't really feel more in touch, more like he walking in front of me, and although I always just miss him, he's left a present behind to assure me that we will be talking soon and he loves me. I'm a bit of a mystic really.

Random word for today:

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