Life update!
This was really going to be a quick "I'm not wallowing in self-pity anymore thanks to a much needed intervention" post, but ehh...I'll indulge in a little rambling. So..uh...what's up with blogspot not allowing for the option to write in color anymore? That's lame, huh?...
Alright this isn't working, I simply can't do a long meaningful entry right now. It's time for another summary of life in bullet points (extremely long bullet points.)
- I've got 5 months left before I can (barring another bizarre ill-timed scheduling fiasco compliments of Bio Advising (rant to be found here) leave this wretched institute of higher learning. I appear to have a more severe form of senioritis than most, manifesting itself in the following ways;
1) a general disregard for my classes: This includes the daily morning ritual of convincing myself not to sleep through my 11 am class (having exhausted the allowed number of absences), a cursory glance at the requisite reading is the extent of studying involved for weekly Spanish quizzes, and arriving at the disturbing conclusion that listening to latin hip-hop and watching the giant throbbing bulge in Bledsoe's forehead are the only things keeping me semi-conscious in Vert. Morph.
2) Sweatpants are appropriate attire for any occasion damnit.
3) Subsisting off Rice-a-Roni and (when I feel adventurous) vegetables.
4) Attempting to extend my facebook profile with more meaningless personal information.
5) From the Cathedral, the gym is simply... way..way too far away.
6) Carefully scheduled "study" time usually involves futile attempts to memorize poorly translated songs in Spanish (cough "aqui no sera" cough)and multiple rounds of Gin Rummy with the roomates.
7) 2 hours of sleep? 20 hours of sleep? Doesn't matter. Still fucking tired.
- I've come to the realization that I'm atrocious at managing money. Hell, it's a miracle I'm ever able to pay rent on time.
- My undergraduate career reveals I have a personal vendetta against no less than 3 professors. The latest addition to THE LIST ("You BETTER run egg!" cough sorry) is my Pop. Bio professors...yes, plural. You see, someone came up with the brilliant idea to let this duo of inanity (tonsor and kalisz) teach together. They're married by the way, and although they spare us sickening displays of marital affection, they continue to plague the academic community with their ineffectual "teaching." Case in point: Allow me to walk you through a typical lecture.
If it's Kalisz teaching, please kindly take a nail gun and apply it directly to your temple, as it is truly the equivalent of hearing her confuse the living daylights of out of herself, and consequently us. During the next 75 minutes, the classroom is quickly transformed into a "Logic Free" zone, where I usually expect to wake up mid-nap to hear Kalisz say "And that, class, is why 2+2 is equal to -13. Questions? What? I don't know." Sometimes, when I'm feeling particularly masochistic I'll serve as the lone dissenting voice shouting "For the love of god, shut your pie hole and just email us the goddamn notes!" which undoubtedly welcomes the violent backlash of the mindless drones in the front row who are completely incapable of independent thought.
Her husband Tonsor, though less annoying, is known to emphasize certain obvious concepts by leaping onto the main table and yelling "SEE!" while waving his pointer stick in the air. Yep.
- A career related mental crisis appears to rear it's ugly head every few days... sometimes I flirt with the idea of screwing over law school to be a writer (although, penning salacious articles with titles like "Crack den hooker double homicide!" aren't exactly going to invite accolades. Oh well.), or travelling around the world for an unspecified amount of time. I already know I can live off exactly 8 bucks a day in Nicaragua. Alright maybe I should've just included this in the "Senioritis" section because clearly I'm a lazy bastard and this year is dragging by. I can't seem to muster the energy to study another term, annotate one more essay, fill in one more goddamn bubble on a scantron sheet, or drown myself in coffee in preparation for another round of midterms.
- My wage slavery at the Nationality Rooms ended as I quit last friday. That's right. It was pretty unsatisfying and not at all the way I would've done it under normal circumstances. I got laryngitis (something to add to the litany of afflictions suffered this year alone) and my "I quit" was whispered rather than spit out with fury and conviction.
- There appears to be a rent dispute brewing at the apartment. Everyone please welcome the start of lame house meetings! It should be noted that by the end of last year... my minimum requirements for roomates were basically people who wouldn't chainsaw my face off or resort to passive aggressive ways of striking out whenever a conflict arose. With that being said, I anticipated a relatively harmonious living situation. Ah...two months later, I stand corrected. I hope everything gets worked out... but for now, I think it's safe to say there will be no mushy heart-to-heart's over warm cocoa.
-On a positive note, last night I met and shook hands with Paul freaking Rusesabagina (more info about his story)himself! He spoke at length about his experiences, and offered some sharp criticism of the U.N. Amnesty people randomly were given "VIP" status, so we got into the catered reception for free. There was this force-field of about a 100 people surrounding Paul virtually the entire evening, and I desperately wanted a picture with him (for the sake of the club..of course..ahem.) After an hour had passed, with no perceivable change in the throng, I was close to grabbing the nearest dull kitchen utensil and advancing in a menacing fashion. Thankfully, Paul obliged my requests, and the Amnesty banner got signed and we all got a picture with him. What a guy. I was sure he'd been permanently blinded by all the flash photography during his speech...
Quote of the Day:
Gob: "I was halfway to South America, but I couldn't let you get away with it, because we're brothers, Mom, and we kind of like each other."
Michael Bluth: "You were going to South America?"
Gob: "I don't think so.'
-- Arrested Development
Alright this isn't working, I simply can't do a long meaningful entry right now. It's time for another summary of life in bullet points (extremely long bullet points.)
- I've got 5 months left before I can (barring another bizarre ill-timed scheduling fiasco compliments of Bio Advising (rant to be found here) leave this wretched institute of higher learning. I appear to have a more severe form of senioritis than most, manifesting itself in the following ways;
1) a general disregard for my classes: This includes the daily morning ritual of convincing myself not to sleep through my 11 am class (having exhausted the allowed number of absences), a cursory glance at the requisite reading is the extent of studying involved for weekly Spanish quizzes, and arriving at the disturbing conclusion that listening to latin hip-hop and watching the giant throbbing bulge in Bledsoe's forehead are the only things keeping me semi-conscious in Vert. Morph.
2) Sweatpants are appropriate attire for any occasion damnit.
3) Subsisting off Rice-a-Roni and (when I feel adventurous) vegetables.
4) Attempting to extend my facebook profile with more meaningless personal information.
5) From the Cathedral, the gym is simply... way..way too far away.
6) Carefully scheduled "study" time usually involves futile attempts to memorize poorly translated songs in Spanish (cough "aqui no sera" cough)and multiple rounds of Gin Rummy with the roomates.
7) 2 hours of sleep? 20 hours of sleep? Doesn't matter. Still fucking tired.
- I've come to the realization that I'm atrocious at managing money. Hell, it's a miracle I'm ever able to pay rent on time.
- My undergraduate career reveals I have a personal vendetta against no less than 3 professors. The latest addition to THE LIST ("You BETTER run egg!" cough sorry) is my Pop. Bio professors...yes, plural. You see, someone came up with the brilliant idea to let this duo of inanity (tonsor and kalisz) teach together. They're married by the way, and although they spare us sickening displays of marital affection, they continue to plague the academic community with their ineffectual "teaching." Case in point: Allow me to walk you through a typical lecture.
If it's Kalisz teaching, please kindly take a nail gun and apply it directly to your temple, as it is truly the equivalent of hearing her confuse the living daylights of out of herself, and consequently us. During the next 75 minutes, the classroom is quickly transformed into a "Logic Free" zone, where I usually expect to wake up mid-nap to hear Kalisz say "And that, class, is why 2+2 is equal to -13. Questions? What? I don't know." Sometimes, when I'm feeling particularly masochistic I'll serve as the lone dissenting voice shouting "For the love of god, shut your pie hole and just email us the goddamn notes!" which undoubtedly welcomes the violent backlash of the mindless drones in the front row who are completely incapable of independent thought.
Her husband Tonsor, though less annoying, is known to emphasize certain obvious concepts by leaping onto the main table and yelling "SEE!" while waving his pointer stick in the air. Yep.
- A career related mental crisis appears to rear it's ugly head every few days... sometimes I flirt with the idea of screwing over law school to be a writer (although, penning salacious articles with titles like "Crack den hooker double homicide!" aren't exactly going to invite accolades. Oh well.), or travelling around the world for an unspecified amount of time. I already know I can live off exactly 8 bucks a day in Nicaragua. Alright maybe I should've just included this in the "Senioritis" section because clearly I'm a lazy bastard and this year is dragging by. I can't seem to muster the energy to study another term, annotate one more essay, fill in one more goddamn bubble on a scantron sheet, or drown myself in coffee in preparation for another round of midterms.
- My wage slavery at the Nationality Rooms ended as I quit last friday. That's right. It was pretty unsatisfying and not at all the way I would've done it under normal circumstances. I got laryngitis (something to add to the litany of afflictions suffered this year alone) and my "I quit" was whispered rather than spit out with fury and conviction.
- There appears to be a rent dispute brewing at the apartment. Everyone please welcome the start of lame house meetings! It should be noted that by the end of last year... my minimum requirements for roomates were basically people who wouldn't chainsaw my face off or resort to passive aggressive ways of striking out whenever a conflict arose. With that being said, I anticipated a relatively harmonious living situation. Ah...two months later, I stand corrected. I hope everything gets worked out... but for now, I think it's safe to say there will be no mushy heart-to-heart's over warm cocoa.
-On a positive note, last night I met and shook hands with Paul freaking Rusesabagina (more info about his story)himself! He spoke at length about his experiences, and offered some sharp criticism of the U.N. Amnesty people randomly were given "VIP" status, so we got into the catered reception for free. There was this force-field of about a 100 people surrounding Paul virtually the entire evening, and I desperately wanted a picture with him (for the sake of the club..of course..ahem.) After an hour had passed, with no perceivable change in the throng, I was close to grabbing the nearest dull kitchen utensil and advancing in a menacing fashion. Thankfully, Paul obliged my requests, and the Amnesty banner got signed and we all got a picture with him. What a guy. I was sure he'd been permanently blinded by all the flash photography during his speech...
Quote of the Day:
Gob: "I was halfway to South America, but I couldn't let you get away with it, because we're brothers, Mom, and we kind of like each other."
Michael Bluth: "You were going to South America?"
Gob: "I don't think so.'
-- Arrested Development
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