That last blog sucked...so will this one.

Howdy bitches. Well, in twelve short hours, hopefully I will have finished with my Tax exam and we'll never have to hear about it again. Comparative Law is on Friday. I haven't started studying. Much to everyone's chagrin, I will be typing my exam, so I won't be able to give a blow-by-blow on all the twitching, kissing, speculating, spitting, arguing and citing extraneous, unassigned sources that will doubtless ensue once the "Oblongs" start taking the test. Nope. Hopefully it'll just be me n' a few of the "normies" in a room, quietly typing what we think about... well, hell. I don't know. I did all the damn reading and I still am like "uh, globalization is a... mmmmmmmmmmm... catalyst for the harmonization of international...private law?"

Whatever. So, yeah. Now I'm straight chillin'. I got all my books and outlines tabbed, I know virtually NOTHING about tax law, and I'm praying that the test is so easy it makes me want to cry, on top of an amazing curve. Cross your fingers for me.

I went to a tea place today to study on Miracle Mile. Every time I got o Miracle Mile, I think, "Why the hell don't I come here more often? There are so many interesting, way overly expensive weird little boutique-y stores for all the millionares that live around here...I want Gelatto, a wedding dress and a mini-Bentley for my nonexistent dog."

But I never go. I suppose, perhaps tomorrow night, I could ride my bike there, and make a list of the places I want to wander around after I'm finished with all my exams, and have nothing but time...before I revert back to being a 1L, with no time, attached by the eyeballs to my books. Gross.

Anyhoo, I went to some place called "Montea" and Jess, Spence and I sat around tabbing outlines and drinking tea. The tea was actually sort of tasty. I had a tandoori chicken salad sandwich. The chicken salad was ENTIRELY too sweet, like it had been made with the tangy, vomit-inducing zip of bad tasting Miracle Whip.

Eh. I'm tired of writing. I can't wait until finals are over. Bye.

Molten paraffin...

So... I tend to get impatient with things... I don't know why. If a flower is poking out of its bud, trying to open, I try to speed up the process. Watching butterflies emerging from cocoons drives me crazy, as does watching chicks break free from eggs... they need help, and I'll give it to them.

Same for candles. I want them to burn down. Fast. So, last night, as I for some reason had decided that I would let a tealight burn down before I went to bed, I watched it. And it burned too slowly.

Because I am familiar with the capillary effect, I thought, well, I'll just lean this burnt end of a wooden match against the side of the tealight, with one end up, and one end in the wax, and it'll make the candle burn faster.

And it did. As the paraffin wicked up the burnt wood, it burned. And as it burned, it increased the temperature of the wax below...and the metal sides of the light.

Then, I heard a little whoosh, and I guess all of the paraffin in the tea light had caught fire, because the tealight looked like a little can of Sterno.

I stared at it, marveling at how I had a little cup of wax that was completely on fire. And then I realized that this little cup of wax was on my glass coffee table, and I started to freak out that it would make the glass crack. Because I am a genius, and had burned my finger trying to move the little cup earlier, I thought, "Well, I'll just put some ice in it!"

Bad idea.

I held the ice above this little crucible, and a drop of water fell into the inferno. And there were literally fireworks. A fireball exploded out of the candle, water fizzled, as burning wax arched out from the tea light.

Oops.

It was at that time that I decided that I'd have to smother the flame, which I did. But there's a moral of this story - even as an adult...don't play with matches, because it means you're going to have to scrape wax off your coffee table, and NO ONE wants to do that...