What is Sharia?

Tuesday.
I can't write without being distracted by the taste of my lips right now. It's 2am on Tuesday night/Wed morning and I just spent about fifteen minutes looking for my chapstick, to no avail. I therefore borrowed some of Blaire's orange lippy Body Shop stuff from our trip down to the Eaton Centre a couple of weeks ago and I smell so citrus-y!
Woke up in time for some last minute Spanish revision and went to class to write my composition. The themes were: the commercialisation of sport, or, animals in circuses - entertainment or cruelty? I did the latter, not knowing in English what the first thing even meant. However, not knowing the words for 'in the wild', 'lion' or 'bear' made the whole thing rather difficult.
An hour free and then the Postwar class, which seems like a distant memory. We learnt about McCarthyism and Communist witch hunts and the film director Elia Kazan.
Then a Burwash lunch in which I couldn't face any of the cooked food but had lovely butternut squash soup. I miss South African geeeem squash.
Afterwards, worked through Nela's presentation for her Vic One class, which is the same that I had last term. The significance of the 1848 revolutions in Flaubert's Sentimental Education. We sat at the big wooden table at one end of the BG common room, the light hitting the table and the white of the paper in front of us. I told her my thesis: the main character can never feel love at the same time as feeling political fervour. Politics is always a driving force in the background of the novel, but remains transient when attached to the characters.
Anyway.
I then plucked up the courage to go to Gilmour's office hours and tell him my thoughts on the narration of the Carver story and similarities to Humbert Humbert and the way the events are skewed to his perspective in Lolita. Glad I went, he's the sort of professor you need to grab the attention of. (I hate ending sentences on prepositions.)
Had a wee break, read in bed, before Tegan came round and we headed over snowy and icy Queens Park to Hart House's East Common Room for a talk entitled What is Sharia? It's part of the Islam Awareness Week, on which I'm writing an article for the Strand. However, the times had changed at the last minute so we missed most of it. Being pretty much the only obviously non-Muslims in the room, we were approached afterwards by some girls who asked us if we had enjoyed it and then I got introduced to someone who is on the committee for the events and I said I'd ask him some questions after tomorrow's event (Islam in North America) for my article. After I'd said my shpeel, he asked if I was Scottish, which made me happy. Not English, for once. This is when Tegan and I stepped out of beautiful Hart House and the moon was really clear. Unfortunately, the photo is blurry, but it still captures the clear sky and the spire of University College.
Dinner with cinnamon toast and Peter's stories of his Gap Year, in the usual nonchalant style, and then a house meeting to discuss BG hoodies and a VCDS meeting to go back over Arsenic and Old Lace and start planning Rocky and the U of T drama festival show, which is next week. Rehearsal tomorrow.

Now I am going to sleep.