Freedom is mine and I know how I feel.

Dear essays, midterms and finals,
You are dead to me.
Sincerely, one very contended exchange student.

Yes, Christmas is in five days, and I have just finished my last exam. Frankly, I think it's inhumane to have exams so close to Christmas, but apparently Canadians have no concern for human rights. I might be exaggerating. But only a little.
Apologies for my recent absence. Take-home exam, actual exams and the presence of my wonderful sister have been preoccupying my time. Since said sister is currently on a bus from Niagara Falls to Toronto (in just 7.5 hours I'll be hopping on a bus to join her wheeeee) I find myself with some time on my hands, so let's have a catch-up.
There's not a lot to tell. Exams suck, but they're over, so we'll speak no more of and get on with the show.
My darling Rachel arrived last Tuesday (cue obligatory Miranda impression) and she has very dutifully been making me breakfast, doing my washing up and letting me be boring and do revision. In return, she gets to sleep on a blow-up mattress on my floor and use my bus pass to steal transportation around the city while I stay at home and revise. It's working well. On Thursday we went on a very rainy trip to Montreal, which involved lots of cold, wet walking and not a lot else, but we did go to the Biodome and see animals and fishes and penguins :) I also finally saw my first beaver. No, that is not a euphemism, you utter filth. On Sunday we went to an art gallery which had a table where kids could sit and make art out of pictures of circuit boards (inspired by a collection of art in the gallery, of course; most people don't generally associate arts and crafts with circuit boards). Naturally, we joined in. It quickly became apparent that I got all of the family's artistic skill, as my beautiful sunflower made whatever the hell her picture was suppsoed to be look like an utter shambles.
The highlight of my week was perhaps the bus with an advert on the back that read, "Finally, funerals are affordable". While I understand that the price of funerals can be an issue, I can't help but imagine some poor mother watching her child get run over by that very same bus, and while she's screaming in distress, the bus driver comes over and says "Well, at least you'll get value for money". My mind works in mysterious ways.
Oh, did I mention that I got a 97 on my Finnegans Wake essay? 97!!! Clearly all these years of talking utter nonsense have paid off.
It's cold. Like, really cold. The cold is making my face fall apart. I'm not even joking. My skin is just deteriorating. It's quite distressing. I look like I've got a disease and the skin under my nose looks like some kind of weird red flaky Hitler moustache. And you thought I couldn't get any sexier. Make-up hurts, so I'm just walking around looking like some greasy-haired, red-faced, blotchy mutant. Nom. The greasy hair has nothing to do with the cold: I've just been too exam-ridden and hat-dependent to care. But that's enough about me and my disgusting physicality. I'm not Leopold Bloom, after all. (Check me out and my hilarious Joyce references. I'm not a geek. Honest.)
Speaking of Joyce, I was actually quite sad to be rid of him after my exam yesterday. Obviously, I was sadder to be rid of Adam and Travis, who might just be the loves of my life, but still. I was really starting to enjoy Finnegans Wake, although I still can't make much sense of it, but quite frankly, I don't think you're supposed to! I've also said goodbye to my ethics class and my Aboriginal lit class, both of which I'll miss, although Aboriginal lit is looking likely to provide some dissertation inspiration for next year, so I don't think I've seen the back of it just yet!
Obviously, the most exciting news in that in 48 hours I will be on a plane and on my way home for Christmas :D :D I'm just a little bit excited, although I'm mildly concerned that I will be completely and utterly crushed by my mother upon my return, but that's small sacrifice I'm willing to make for the sake of home-cooked food, non-weird-tasting Cadbury's chocolate and Welsh cakes. Oh and family. And friends. And my sofa. And New Year in Exeter. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep :D
On a sadder note, this also means that Simone is leaving for good, which is very upsetting. I'm not sure if I can fathom the idea of coming back in January and not having my little aussie ethics buddy next door :( Also have to mention Becca and Karina, who are also heading back to the land oz, never to return. Goodbyes suck. It also means that two new girls will be moving in next door. Who will they be? Where will they be from? What will they be like? The tension is almsot unbearable.
Anyways, I have a dinner date with Simone in half an hour and I need to shower.
It's a new dawn; it's a new day; it's a new life for me; and I'm going to Toronto.
I'm also feeling good.
Au revoir, mes amis.

P.S. I've had some more Russian views, and one from Japan. I've gone global. Clearly the world is going mad.

Happy Birthday, Mummy.

:)

This just made my life.

It. Is. Amazing.
My 8-year-old self is screaming in glee right now. My 19-year-old self is laughing hysterically.
Everything about this is everything that makes Britain camp and wonderful. The sequins. The failed choreography in the middle. The fact that H has clearly come out of the closet a bit too much. The fact that they can't really sing. The fact that they're clearly still sitting on the fence between embarrassment and not giving a shit that they're singing ridiculous songs with ridiculous choreography in ridiculous outfits. It's wonderfully awkward. And amazing.
And you know I was singing along. And doing the dance moves. Too cool for school.

Oh, and just in case you were wondering (and we both know you were), this is still my favourite Steps song:

The video gets me every time. Lisa's got some weird 18th century alien princess look going on. And the dance moves are classic. 2:38 is a personal fav. I HEART STEPS.

A taste of childhood.

Turns out, childhood tastes like fake fruit and sugar. How long before I turn orange?
It's Friday night, and I am officially doing absolutely nothing, which brings me a great amount of joy. Yes, I have a paper due on Monday, but I'm happy to ignore the confusing jumble that is Finnegans Wake for one more night, for the sake of my sanity.
Two exams down. Two to go. Throw in a few essays and I've still got a lot to do, but right now I don't care because I have Sunny D and ice cream. Life is good.

Failure is imminent.

I hate exams.
I hate Shakespeare.
I'm an awful student.
I'm useless at academia.
My life is a mess.

NB I'm tired and prone to melodrama.

I'm alive.

Just thought I'd let you know.
My life is currently one big blur of essays, bizarre sleeping patterns and even more bizarre eating patterns.
But I'm alive.
On Friday I submitted a 10-page paper. Yesterday I submitted a 5-page paper. On Thursday I have an exam. On Friday I have an exam. On Monday I have to submit a 5-page paper on FINNEGANS BLOODY WAKE. On Tuesday all is right with the world, because my sister will be appearing and I can happily ignore the fact that I have two more exams to revise for. Oh and somewhere in there I need to do my home exam. Academia sucks.
Anyways, rant over. I've been somewhat quiet over the past few weeks, and I can only apologise for depriving you of my witty and enlightening insights into Canadian life. Having said that, the owl post was pretty damn awesome.
Highlights of the past couple of weeks have included sleep. Well that's been my personal highlight, anyway. I had my last classes this term, which means no more Joyce class ever. This makes me sad. I'm going to miss Adam and Travis and the filthy banter that Joyce inspires. It's strange to think that the first term is almost over. In two and a half weeks I shall be back in sunny Britain. I know you all can't wait to see me, so be sure to form an orderly queue at the front door and I'll be sure to get through as many of you as possible. Those who come bearing gifts will get VIP access. What can I say? I'm fickle.
I've recently discovered that there is nothing more hilarious than a Canadian trying to pronounce "tomato" the British way. No, really. I've also discovered that some Canadians, and Australians, do not believe our darling United Kingdom to be part of Europe. This baffled me, and I desperately tried to tell them that we really are, but they didn't believe me.
Um, not a lot else to report. I bought a shiny pink dress. It's ridiculous and it was on sale, therefore it is awesome. I also tidied my room. Now for those of you who don't know me (I'm looking at you, readers in Latvia, Lithuania and Russia) this may not seem particularl significant. To those of you who do know me, you're probably still recovering from the shock. I'll give you a moment to recover. Lie down. Have a cup of tea. Maybe don't try to drink the tea while lying down. I really shouldn't be allowed to give advice.
Recovered now? Good. Yes, the notorious mess of Hannah's room has been tidied. The sweet wrappers have been disposed of, the clothes are hung up/folded on the shelf, the floor can be seen and my laptop will actually fit on my desk. Given that my room usually (to quote one of my flatmates last year) "looks like Baghdad," this is a notable improvement. Plus I put up some more decorations, so it looks really pretty.
As you can see, my lack of blogging has caused you to miss out on some serious excitement, and I don't want your brain to explode from the sheer awesomeness of my life, so I shall cease writing and go to bed. I have a lot of Shakespeare to read tomorrow.
I bid you adieu.