It's final exam time, kiddies. Have you had your nervous breakdown yet?
No, really, finals aren't that bad for me. The week before finals, now . . . presentation paper paper study review . . . argh! But that's over, and now there's only three finals to be got through for me. Oh, and also turn in my independent study, but that's practically done anyway. Feel free to throw all the tomatoes you want. I have an umbrella.
It's been a strange week for me. In my head, I know I'm going to be leaving this university forever in just a few days, and also leaving people who have become very dear to me. I'll keep in touch, of course, but it won't be the same. Yesterday, I participated in the graduation ceremony for Fall semester, even though I won't technically graduate until April. It was a nice, short little ceremony. I didn't see my family until the very end of it, when I was walking out. My parents and brothers attended, as well as my grandmother, my grandfather on the other side, and his fiancee, plus my aunt and her family, not to mention my roommates. Wow! What a cheering section I had! It was a nice feeling. I still didn't feel like I graduated, especially since I got just a diploma case and not the diploma itself.
I went to church on-campus today, and I nearly lost it during Mass. I've been attending this Mass for 3 and a half years, minus summer breaks, and it hit me like a brick to the head that I'd never worship there again. Isn't it strange what kinds of things set you off?
I tell you, this growing-up stuff sucks like a fleet of Hoovers.
In other news, I might not get the classes thing ironed out by the time I get on the plane--which really really worries me, because I need them done if I want to graduate on time. The international office is a mess right now, but the woman who's handling my stuff has told me she will try to get to it as soon as possible. I believe her, but I'm still itchy and worried. Grumble.
Good luck on finals, everyone who has them! And everyone else, happy holidays!
Books for today: Flowers from the Storm by Laura Kinsale. This is a truly exceptional romance novel, I'm telling you. The hero has a stroke close to the beginning of it, and since this takes place in the early nineteenth century, he is thought to be mad and put into an insane asylum. The heroine is the only one who believes that there's still a human being somewhere in there. Laura's descriptions of the insane asylum are truly horrifying, all the more so since the characters consider it an advanced place of treatment. SHUDDER! Also, Laura writes the scenes that are from the hero's POV as if you are in his head, with things not connecting the way a stroke victim would think and feel. Read it for a GREAT love story. Insert mooshy sighs here.