Carnations

Though I didn't take this photo, there have been plenty of times where I could have.

I'm at the library now and it's gorgeous outside. Blue sky, perfectly sunny, maybe 70 degrees. I want to be outside, not at a desk, outlining the essay which I will spend today writing.

But at least I'm not a finalist, because then I'd never see the light of day. A "finalist," in Oxford lingo, is a third or fourth year student (some degrees are three years, others are four) who is taking the final exams that will sum up every single piece of work that student has done at Oxford. Messed up on an essay in your second year and got a 40? No problem, only the exam matters. Aced every single piece of work thus far, and screw up on the exam? You're in trouble. As you might expect, finalists don't really do anything besides study and worry about studying. It's very common to hear someone remark, "Oh, Susie Q? No, she's not rowing this year--she's a finalist."

Why am I sharing this? Because on my glorious walk to the library this morning, I saw loads of students in sub-fusc, walking through the streets, obviously about to take their exams.

On your first day of exams, you wear a white carnation. On the second day, a pink carnation. Finally, on the last day, a red carnation. How's that for tradition?

(Disclaimer: I have no idea who these men are. They were simply one of the first results under a Google image search for "Oxford carnation.")