"A man uncovers the body of a mythical figure," said the TOK prof. "How does he automatically know who it is?"

"He was wearing a name tag." (Have to love Susannah's logic.)

"He was cut into pieces."

"He was mythical, so he wasn't even there."

"No, it was Adam and he didn't have a belly button."

"Ohhh..."

"A man dies alone in the forest after being hit by a rock. Who was he?"

"Oh! Cain! Abel!"

"Charlie Brown!"

"Goliath."

"Or David, after the rock rebounded."

"Nope. Superman."

"Superman's not dead!"

"He got too close to the kryptonite."

"Ohhh..."

"A man steps off the elevator in his apartment building. The lights go off and he knows his wife is dead. How does he know?"

"He killed her." (Susannah again.)

"She was afraid of the dark."

"She was on life support."

"Ohhh..."

A few girls wandered into the hall towards the end of class babbling about prom. Apparantly, several of their dates have already purchased red vests without bothering to inquire as to the colors of the girls' dresses. Saint Bride #2 was annoyed. "What," she demanded, "is so important about a red vest? Could someone tell me this please?"

Um. Anybody have an answer?

And now for the egotistical bit of the entry: the English prof gave me a fourth "waltz with God," something she claims rarely happens even once. On five pages of (I thought) absolute idiocy that I wrote during history. She then went on to inconspicuously wave the paper around a bit, and then she apologized for stumbling over every third word-- she had trouble, she said, reading the author's handwriting.

A few heads turned knowingly and one head turned red. So much for inconspicuous. But I waltzed with God and I suppose that means something. If only he'd stop waltzing long enough to kick my math grade up a couple points...

One month till my birthday, a month and a day after that till graduation. Egad.

Adieu.