Emily McGuire and the Prisoner of Azkaban

No alleged murderers on the loose in the school, thank goodness, but unfortunately also no time turners, because the time we have left together before Christmas break is slipping through our fingers way too fast.

Here is the eclectic round-up of adventures we've had over the past month:

Don We Now Our Christmas Apparel

I declared December 1st Christmas sweater day, which meant festive wear abounded in the lecture hall that morning. I must say, it gave me a lovely power rush, looking at all those people obeying my orders.

Today in Guest Lecturer Character Studies

A man who was a cross between the old guy from Up and Bob Newhart came to speak about his organization today. Same exact bored voice as Bob Newhart and everything. But with an English accent. It gave my heart wings.

The Real Slim Shady

My friends and I have been having an ongoing argument about whether or not I can be shady, with them all saying I'm not shady and me telling them to wait, for they know neither the day nor the hour when I will come out with a beautiful one-liner that will prove them all wrong. Today was that day, for even Kenzie had to admit that I was shady when a fellow student said he would marry me and all I said was, "Get in line."

Life at Hogwarts

The "The Principal of My School is Dumbledore" saga continued when, upon the occasion of his birthday he donned a silver party hat which -paired with his very short white beard- made him look like he was in the beginning stages of blossoming into his true wizard form.

The Scriptures Are Never Wrong

Perhaps my favorite thing I've learned here at Bible school is that the word "helper" when used in reference to God creating Eve to be Adam's helper, doesn't mean less important sidekick, but actually translates to mean someone stronger or more competent. Bonus round: the same word for helper is also used in reference to the Holy Spirit. So, as Principal Dumbledore often says, put that in your evangelical pipe and smoke it.

Doctor's Orders

There are a lot of theatre kids here at Capernwray, and so we've started doing improv nights every Tuesday in the lounge. It's always super fun and hilarious, although I think my favorite moment was when two dudes were given a scene where one of them was a doctor and the other was his female secretary. There was also someone portraying a meerkat in the background, and someone being a patient with a broken leg, and it was all very riotous, and everyone got very much out of hand and into character, and that is the story of how the secretary kissed the doctor.

The official story is that it was a stage kiss, but the jury's still out in my opinion.

The Hunger Games

If you've been following my posts, you'll know that we have been doing a secret sister thing since the start of term, and today we had our grand reveal, which required the giving of one last gift, this time in person. And do you know how many people planned ahead and bought their gifts further ahead of time than the day of the reveal? I don't, because I wasn't one of them. Because virtually every other girl was in the same boat as me, this meant there were more people needing to get on the van into town than there are seats in the van. To get a place on the van, you run up to the main office during the coffee break between lectures and have them write your name down on the list. As soon as the lecture before coffee break ended, something like 30 girls -me included- launched themselves from their seats and charged across campus. It was terrifying. We are usually such a loving, kind community, but in that moment it was every woman for herself and my goodness the speeds we ran at to get to the office have yet to be matched. I imagine if anyone has gotten in our way we would have simply trampled them like a herd of wildebeest, so determined were we to get on the list. Additionally, I will have you know that I did make it on the list, and I was one of the first five. I don't have an overactive alpha-female instinct for nothing, kids.

A Borderline Pass Is Still a Pass

The guy who marks my essays is starting to figure me out. He passed me on my most recent one, but he did so very grudgingly. Apparently the fact that I stuck 8 completely unnecessary verses of Ecclesiastes in the middle of my essay in order to hit the minimum word count did not go unnoticed by him. But I don't mind. I love being called out on my B.S. It's like when serial killers notify the police that they've just committed a crime so they can have a bit of a chase as they escape. And anyway, a pass is a pass, be it bequeathed upon me with a willing or a resentful spirit.

Overreaction

Tonight Elena (newest squad member) and I found ourselves in Esther's room at about midnight, and for some reason we thought it would be a good idea to start telling ghost stories. (?!?!?) I told one that I heard when I was about 7, thinking I was old enough now that it would frighten me. It was a story that involved the sound of a shower dripping. And do you know what happened about 6 ghost stories later? The shower started dripping. And so, we did what any mature young women in our late teens would do, and all left the room at a somewhat hurried pace, not returning until several hours had passed and we had (mostly) rationalized the situation. Just go ahead and send us right out into the adult world, because clearly we are ready.

F•R•I•E•N•D•S

With only a few days left until Christmas break, the squad decided to order pizza and have a last supper of sorts. As we sat gathered in a circle, pizza boxes crammed onto a tiny coffee table at our epicenter, I felt exactly like I was in an episode of Friends. When I said as much, Braedan was kind enough to point out that it was indeed very much like a sitcom, in that we were all white. I'm just happy he agreed with me for once.

Farewells

The coach to the airport left on the 14th, taking with it everyone who is going home for the holidays. Saying goodbye was tragic, of course. Since I accepted long ago that I am an incredibly emotional person and have no qualms about crying in public, I was weeping the entire time. I hugged each of my friends 2-7 times, and it was all very dramatic with many sentimental things being said. Luckily, none of my room mates went home, so that night we pushed all our beds together in one homogenous lump and watched Mean Girls. All in all, I got 2 hours of sleep that night, and early that morning I said goodbye to my room mates and headed out on my next adventure, specifically, Northern Ireland.