"I'd like to chop off your head with a meataxe!"

Mon dieu, comme j'aime bien le weekend. I slept in a bit, and pottered on the internet, and this afternoon I went to the library and then Sainsbury's. I know. Fascinating in any language. I have made chocolate brandy (apple juice) cake and lime and coconut cake (which is actually a cake, unlike ch br (ap j) ck), and have got myself ready for the aubergine pasta thing once Katie gets home. Have listened to the rest of Hay Fever (there are no words for how much I love that play, and how great it was when we saw DJD as Judith Bliss at the Haymarket) and currently have got Private Lives on. Noel Coward ftw.

Anyway, I had a lowering experience in the library. As most of you know, I love Maths. Love it very much, and have done since I was 9. Also, am commensurately good at it (it required very little effort at school, and thus was always going to be a winner for me). I took Maths A-level, and did very well. P2 (the second Pure Maths module, taken at the end of UVI) was supposedly the hardest, and I scored 149/150 (yes, I'm bragging, I'm still extremely proud of my results, just ignore me *g*). In the library today, I saw the P2 textbook we used at school. Opened it. Didn't recognise/understand a single thing I looked at. That is, there was a load of trigonometry, and some stuff about iteration, but frankly it was completely over my head. My standard of Maths hovers somewhere around GCSE level. How the human mind betrays us all...