(No, not the marrying up one.)
(Although my mom did come home from the doctor the other day saying, “Yeah, he was adorable. I really wanted to say, hey, do you want to come home and meet my 22-year-old?” And honey, the 22-year-old is totally down with that.)
During The Office tonight Oscar was joking about the problems with having two managers and said, “I mean, where would Catholicism be without the popes?” And my first reaction was, ooh! The Avignon papacy! That didn’t work so well!
Three out of five tests finished, and they’re the bad ones. The only two left are Jewish history, which I’m anticipating is going to be pretty easy because…it’s matching? And I’m pretty good on my Jewish history? I don’t know, I don’t care anymore. Renaissance Architecture is just an online quiz so…not seeing a whole lot of problems with that one.
The bad one, Arab-Israeli Conflict, was today. I think it went alright, even though I completely ran out of time and room and my right leg alternated between piercing pain and numbness because of some spastic pinched nerve thing. Whatever. The final essay was Palestine from 1919 to 1939 like THERE WEREN’T A MILLION DIFFERENT THINGS THAT HAPPENED IN THOSE TWENTY YEARS. But I think I got everything.
My problem with this one was that it was basically an amalgamation of stuff from other classes I’ve taken. So I knew all the words, I was just less than certain that I could put them in the right order. I mean, you say Peel Commission to me and I can tell you it was from May to July of 1937 and suggested an 80/20 partition of Palestine, establishing Tel-Aviv as the capital of Israel, but I’m not sure I’d remember to put in the middle of an essay about the 1930s in the Middle East.
(Except I know I remembered that one.)
Oh well, it’s over. I’ll find out in a week how I did, so, yeah, stay tuned for that.
Then I came home, backed a Due Date Cake for Colleen (who is not, in fact, pregnant herself, rather commemorating our mother’s pregnancy with her), and watched like two hours of The Big Bang Theory.
Way more fun than the French bombing Damascus on October 12, 1925.