Well, my first final ever is in two and a half hours. Although this is my second semester at the university, for some strange reason none of my professors gave finals; that is, all save one, and I was exempt from that one. I’m not entirely sure if I’m nervous or not. I’m not entirely sure if I should be or not.
This final is my spanish final, which may or may not be a piece of cake. It’s not comprehensive, so I’m expecting the test will be much like our mid-term exam, on which I received a 93 (without studying).
My dorm is currently enjoying a drama festival, and the center of all action lives on my own lovely second floor. What do you do with someone who’s a pathological liar? Avoid them until they make themselves unbearable, then you go to the Dean of Students, who just just happens to be even nicer than Dr. Perez.
My nails on my right hand are about three times longer than those on my left. It’s somewhat of a reliefe to have my own nails grow again. I had fake nails since last june, but shortly after Christmas I had to take them off so I could play the violin. So, my left hand’s nails are cut almost as short as possible, except my thumb nail.