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Deconstructing Mark
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Thursday 1.8.02

Quiet few days, thank God, and only five more weeks to go. Three with mad nun, two with immense calm of administrator while nun is away on Mars, and then I'm done. Salivating at the thought.


Monday 5.8.02

I am, apparently, birthday-present shopping for lots of people who are getting older in the next two weeks. The reality is that I'm sitting here, trying to think of lots of things to do until I can be arsed to get off my warm seat and head out into the rain. Mustn't complain about the weather, though, as I prefer this *so* much to the driving heat.

Anyway, came back from a weekend Oxford last night, which was great (the weekend, not so much the coming back, that is - ) although had to be on best behaviour as Claire's parents and aunt were in residence and it really wouldn't do to let rip with an enormous fart or something just as dinner was served. Luckily, it all went well and I restrained myself suitably, although at one stage I thought I'd need a cork.


Tuesday 6.8.02

In one of our sillier moments last night, Liz and I pondered why so many orders of nuns take on self-derogatory names. I mean, the 'Little sisters of the Cross' for example isn't the most, I don't know, inspiring of names. It brings to mind walking-frame-clutching, soup-supping, false-teethed old dears who would keel over if you said 'damn.' Now, I appreciate that is already beginning to sound like Liz and I want to be nuns, which I assure you is not true, but we did manage to come up with some better-sounding names, although now I think about it, things like The obese matrons of our Lord and Massive sisters of stellar proportions and the steel-strengthened Cross probably don't really do the job either. And they're probably sacreligious anyway, so I think I shall just sit quietly for the rest of the day and try not to insult anyone else.


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