Last man standing.

Or more appropriately, chapter. One chapter of science tackled, one left for tomorrow and future joys.
Organic chemistry. Horrors resound in the back of any schooled mind at the mere thought. Truth be told, it's not that bad. It's quite simple, due to logic, what it is, however, is utterly boring. (And no, I have not gone mad. It is quite logical, and my mind is quite capable of grasping it. The only logic it does not grasp, is maths. But that is a different matter all-together)

I should perhaps tackle at least a few paragraphs of the second, and final, chapter. I'm just too darn lazy to do so. - And time spent typing away at my LJ, practicing certain aspects of correct punctuation. Austen's, by the way, a miracle. Her sentences are wonderful jungles of words, commas, colons, semicolons and lord knows what else. And such dignity! If she insults someone, it is not done by calling them some vulgar name, oh no. She insinuates, and draws vile connections to things quite a bit away from being pleasant. Pleasantries, also, reach a different level with her, as with most classic writers of the same era. Where did the elegance go, who whisked it away as the centuries passed?
So much for correct punctuation, it is about as hopeless as I can imagine it would be to make me enjoy death metal.

Mum's iPod just arrived. She's fumed about it being late the past week or so. That is quite understandable, but it is no fun having to answer the same question each time she walks through the door; I wonder how many times I've heard her utter some variaton of "is it here?". No more! Happy birthday mum, your present is in mere moments yours.

Last man standing.

Or more appropriately, chapter. One chapter of science tackled, one left for tomorrow and future joys.
Organic chemistry. Horrors resound in the back of any schooled mind at the mere thought. Truth be told, it's not that bad. It's quite simple, due to logic, what it is, however, is utterly boring. (And no, I have not gone mad. It is quite logical, and my mind is quite capable of grasping it. The only logic it does not grasp, is maths. But that is a different matter all-together)

I should perhaps tackle at least a few paragraphs of the second, and final, chapter. I'm just too darn lazy to do so. - And time spent typing away at my LJ, practicing certain aspects of correct punctuation. Austen's, by the way, a miracle. Her sentences are wonderful jungles of words, commas, colons, semicolons and lord knows what else. And such dignity! If she insults someone, it is not done by calling them some vulgar name, oh no. She insinuates, and draws vile connections to things quite a bit away from being pleasant. Pleasantries, also, reach a different level with her, as with most classic writers of the same era. Where did the elegance go, who whisked it away as the centuries passed?
So much for correct punctuation, it is about as hopeless as I can imagine it would be to make me enjoy death metal.

Mum's iPod just arrived. She's fumed about it being late the past week or so. That is quite understandable, but it is no fun having to answer the same question each time she walks through the door; I wonder how many times I've heard her utter some variaton of "is it here?". No more! Happy birthday mum, your present is in mere moments yours.