Just rocked a Modern British Fiction midterm like a certain boyband rocks bodies.

Which means I finally have time to update: steamy works by D.H. Lawrence can wait. So here goes.

Not much has been going on, of late.

Aside from watching Jubb go through various paroxysms of sexual frustration, our room hasn't offered much in the way of entertainment recently.

It's my fault, and Jubb's, really. Jonas and Miß Sarah, contrary to all expectations and at least a few perceptions, have been spending quite a bit of time in the room, playing Stratego and doing homework.

But the two of us, the other roommates, haven't been around for much quality slacking time.

As mentioned earlier ("above" has always seemed less natural, personally), Jubb is visibly cracking under the strain of not having a crazy art-loving girlfriend.

Jinx has set him up on a blind date (her method involves asking girls out for people until she finds a willing volunteer) for Wednesday the 11th, the night I'm set to become (at midnight), if not a man, then at least a manchild with adult status.

In the meantime, Jubb is hitting the weights, the books, and anyone who gets in his way. It's business as usual, but with midterms his time has become, as they used to say, "dear."

So he has work to do and hasn't been around as much. At least, that's my explanation. He could have a secret family somewhere that he's going to every night.

More images, brief flashes, of my life if Jubb were my father.

So that's one reason our room has had only low-key gatherings of late (I assume, with this, that no one is throwing sexy parties without me).

I've been gone as well, and of course that's more important because Our Bold Hero is more important than all but the most necessary of the four elements. May death come swiftly to his enemies.

The library is a nice quiet place, when you're hopelessly behind on your writing. My undisclosed location on the third floor (from which, once, I heard Jinx shouting through the supposedly-soundproof outer wall) is several magnitudes more productive than my room.

I can't wait to get the antique laptop from home, so I can stop taking advantage of Ben's glorious and neglected machine, a Gateway.

My story is going well, thanks. I'm up to six pages, double-spaced, out of fifty, but I've become awful connected to two of my characters and am having second thoughts about ridiculing them in the second act. Or maybe I'm just regressing back to sentimentality.

Blarg, english stuff. We'll see.

That's where I've been, in any case. At the library for hours and hours each day, sometimes writing, often reading. The presence of so many books makes it easier to do homework, somehow.

Every time I come back from said library, I find Jonas and Miß Sarah, studying quietly. I read quietly for a while yesterday in the same room as Miß Sarah. I consider that bonding.

If the room continues to be such a quiet haven for the studious, I might actually try writing here.

I talked to my parents yesterday, speaking of phone messages Miß Sarah gave me. They're coming next Tuesday and Wednesday with my little brother Josh and the backseat for The Deathtrap.

Assuming that my van stops stalling out randomly, I can finally drive around without people cramming in the back immigrant-style.

Perhaps to make up for the recent lack of interaction, but most likely for some completely arbitrary reason, Jonas has been sleeping on the Sacrificial Altar lately.

It's odd to talk to Jonas and Jubb without a computer or some other distraction in front of me. The conversational dynamic is quite different.

All in all, being awake long enough to hear Jubb's alarm clock fall on him for the third time was well worth the hour of sleep I lost to girl talk.