First off, ever since our hot water was fixed, we have all taken the time to indulge in the occasional longer shower and hot bath. Yippee!
Secondly, I found out that my GPA (so far, at least) for this year is 3.4. The minimum for getting into Library Sciences is, as I mentioned in a previous post, 3.3. This gives me a lot of hope - especially for the two years to come. It might not be so difficult to get into librarian school as I thought. However, Sister #1's GPA is 3.7, and she's a first year ("I'm so disappointed," she says, because her tireless volunteer work for the Special K's various charities such as Hug-A-Hobo and Build A House for Crack Addicts to Jack Up In hasn't left her enough time to study sufficiently. "It's not a 4.0." Fuck off and die, Sister #1.
Also, my Mixed Chorus' final concert was yesterday. It went reasonably well. I had a bit of lack of self-restraint regarding my behaviour during the very long and frustrating rehearsal - it was scheduled to end at 5, and it didn't end until 5:30, when the food-court at the nearby mall closed. I had no idea where to eat or get dinner, but went there anyways and got there just in time to get a decent meal from Mickie Dees. I have a pet peeve for schedules that are 30 minutes longer than they should be.
I couldn't have eaten at a sitting-down restaurant, I was alone - as lame as it may sound, it would have been very weird and depressing to eat alone at a sitting-down restaurant. I couldn't go anywhere else, it was downtown, and it was dark, and I was an unaccompanied, sheltered young woman. I wasn't able to walk 30 feet to the subway station without being accosted by a long-haired, down-on-his-luck (I'm putting this kindly) gentleman begging for change so that he could buy a "coffee". I'm a horribly ignorant upper-class yuppie child, and I have startlingly conservative views from time to time.
Anyway, the concert went well - the first half was very nerve-wracking. Someone, for some reason or another, was taking up more room on the risers than he or she should half, and I was left dangling on the very edge, constantly looking at my feet to make sure I wouldn't fall off while we were singing. Thankfully, whoever the culprit was, they realized their mistake during intermission and I much more comfortable during the second act. Mum and Dad were suitably impressed, and Dad bought a sweatshirt and pre-ordered the recording of our performance from the swag table outside the theatre.
Now, onto the book reviews:
"Mr Timothy" by Louis Baynard
I really enjoyed this, but I have the feeling I would have enjoyed it a lot more had I read Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" first. After all, the main character in this novel is Tiny Tim, only now not so tiny any more. The brace and the crutch are long gone, and he only walks with a slight limp.
Mr. Timothy, as he is now known, is, at 23, a rather listless fellow with no real ideas about his future. Uncle Ebeneezer's wealth has turned out to not be the item destined to give the Crachitts a happy ending. Ebeneezer's money did little or nothing to help the Cratchits, when it comes right down to it, and the most successful of Timothy's siblings, Peter, cut himself off as soon as he was able to. Mr. Timothy still relies on Scrooge's remittance, but his ties to the man, however benevolent and Christmas-loving he has become, shame him.
He finds some purpose to his life when he discovers the bodies of two young girls, both with bloody fingers and horrified expressions but without any other injuries on their persons. He suspects that an immigrant girl named Philomela may be the next target of what turns out to be an underage prostitution ring run by a nobleman, and sets out to protect her.
The story is by turns gripping and humorous, and the excellent writing style of Louis Baynard makes up for the fact that Mr. Timothy is essentially directionless in life. I had no idea what he would do or where he would go if he managed to expose the ring and save Philomela. Otherwise, though, it was very entertaining, explores the consequences of the events of A Christmas Carol, but provides a stand-alone story that will even interest ignorant people like me whose knowledge of the plot of A Christmas Carol comes from The Flintstones, Simpsons, and Jetsons specials that shamelessly rip it off.