I beat Erin on the Test the Nation IQ test
Alright, Les' birthday party. It actually wasn't too bad, considering the fact that I was trying to study for French. I met quite a few new second cousins, including Les himself, third cousins and fourth cousins. Um, Bernice was a little too In-Your-Face for my liking, but everyone else was alright. Les was quite funny, especially after a few glasses of wine (I was offered wine more than once, but I declined and had a coffee instead), and he told us all about travelling with his daughter, Deb, who was also very chatty. It was good to see dear Uncle Iver again, and he gave us a tour of his apartment. Erin and I alternated between talking to people and the food table, because there was this amazing artichoke and cheese dip and we couldn't get enough of.
Eventually we went to a nearby Greek restaurant, where Erin and I were placed at the "kids table," which was basically anyone under the age of thirty-five. Dinner was good, though Erin's fish was too salty. We had cake for dessert; Les let his grandson, Marcus, help him blow his candles out, but the candles kept relighting themselves, which was hilarious. We let Les cut it, even though he had had about seven or eight glasses of wine at that point.
Sunday I studied for my French oral. 'Nuff said.
Um, yesterday was my French oral. I arrived four and a half hours early, as usual, and studied for about . . . I'd like to say three, but it was closer to about two, because the last hour before I just sat in a corner being nervous. My oral itself was okay, I mean, it was the best I could do, considering the fact that I suck at speaking French, but it went by pretty fast. Mme Cloutier also asked me the easiest general question (general questions, my ass) of the twelve. Hung out with Mikhael after, as he had done his four hours before me.
Today I met with my ToK group at Starbucks, (yeah, I won the Starbucks vs library argument), we talked for over an hour, then we all hung out at Coquitlam Station, Mikhael joined us, and waited for the 151/152/143. Mikhael and I watched episodes of Take Home Chef, because Curtis is awesome.
It was windy as hell today. I couldn't see through my hair.
Eventually we went to a nearby Greek restaurant, where Erin and I were placed at the "kids table," which was basically anyone under the age of thirty-five. Dinner was good, though Erin's fish was too salty. We had cake for dessert; Les let his grandson, Marcus, help him blow his candles out, but the candles kept relighting themselves, which was hilarious. We let Les cut it, even though he had had about seven or eight glasses of wine at that point.
Sunday I studied for my French oral. 'Nuff said.
Um, yesterday was my French oral. I arrived four and a half hours early, as usual, and studied for about . . . I'd like to say three, but it was closer to about two, because the last hour before I just sat in a corner being nervous. My oral itself was okay, I mean, it was the best I could do, considering the fact that I suck at speaking French, but it went by pretty fast. Mme Cloutier also asked me the easiest general question (general questions, my ass) of the twelve. Hung out with Mikhael after, as he had done his four hours before me.
Today I met with my ToK group at Starbucks, (yeah, I won the Starbucks vs library argument), we talked for over an hour, then we all hung out at Coquitlam Station, Mikhael joined us, and waited for the 151/152/143. Mikhael and I watched episodes of Take Home Chef, because Curtis is awesome.
It was windy as hell today. I couldn't see through my hair.
Abby wandered off at 10:40 p.m.
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