A couple of things first.

I went to see the course convenor today, and she advised me very strongly against adding German. Apparently, the Intermediate class is very intensive (to get GCSE people fluent in two years) and the workload would be horrendous, plus I would be so behind that she felt that, even given my ability for learning languages, that I wouldn't be able to catch up. Were I Advanced, it might be different, but she said that the stress would put my entire degree in jeopardy. She suggested instead that in October, I take an open German course with the university, and said that I would probably be able to take an A Level exam in a year, which I could then follow with a diploma if I wished.

For once, I am going to try not to be arrogant and say, "Screw you, I can do anything if I put my mind to it." I have begun to learn that, as much as I may hate the fact, I am not omnipotent and I do have limits, even with languages. She knows what she is talking about, and she has taken my skills into account, and so I am going to listen to her. Unfortunately, this means I am stuck with French History and Culture, but that can't be helped.

Secondly, I had not just a wave, but an entire tsunami of inspiration on the train today, and spent the journey scribbling ideas of Plans For World Domination in my notebook. So fans of my lust for power will be pleased to hear that there will be several more on the way. Without further ado:

Zoe's Plan For World Domination 52

I will worm my way into a private audience with George W. Bush*, through charm, flattery, and copious amounts of eye-batting. Once alone with the President, I will flirt outrageously with him (using simple words, of course), using my feminine wiles to penetrate his personal space.** His guard down, I will lean in provocatively as if to kiss him, but will instead grab his knackers. Hard. With him completely in my power, I will demand that he give me control of the Big Red Button (TM), unless he wants to spend the rest of his life doing an excellent impression of Joe Pasquale. When he asks me who the hell Joe Pasquale is, I will slap him for not being British, and squeeze harder.

Once I have the Big Red Button (TM), I can threaten the rest of the planet with destruction unless they proclaim me world leader. Easy.

Of course, it might take some time to put this plan into action, by which time the President will no longer be Mr Bush. It is imperative, therefore, that Hillary Clinton is not elected as President, as you may or may not have realised that she does not, in fact, have balls. Remember, my dear readers: no goolies equals no rule-ys for Zoe. Use your vote wisely.

*Please let it be clear that this will be an 'audience' in the sense of 'talking to', and not an intention to persuade Mr Dubya to perform some sort of exotic dance for my personal viewing pleasure. I might be a megalomaniac, but I'm not sick. 

** Yes, I know. I don't like using this sort of language in reference to a man with a face like a monkey and an IQ comparable to things found under rocks, but sacrifices must be made.