I wish you a Merry Christmas, PC people included

This is why political correctness is actually ruining society. People like us can't afford to celebrate Christmas without offending other people. It's not like we really needed to care what other people celebrate throughout the year, why pick on us? Sure, there is the other party across the street, or the one that can't seem to have a fixed day or whichever ones, mind you, but wouldn't you rather say "Merry Christmas" instead of Happy Holidays/. That's great you celebrate whatever, but Western Society deems that we celebrate Christmas. Sure, go ahead with all that state and church seperation and all that crap you can use to argue against it, but when I was 5, it was Christmas, and I didn't really notice the Christmas until I was 10. Maybe I was just a tad slow, but for those 5 years I really didn't care (compound my 'problem' - for you PC folk - with the fact I never paid attention in Catholic school) and I was basically an atheist the whole time! See, I didn't care! You've had about 2000 years to care! So shut your traps, because it's Christmas. And if you type Xmas, you better just be lazy...

Next, you'll all want Santa's sleigh to be a hybrid, force his toy factory to limit greenhouse gas emissions, to stop using Reindeer because it's animal cruelty and you'll want him to lose weight because he's a bad role model. Seriously...

You already ruined the Cookie Monster. Stop it. Cookies are not good "once-in-a-while", they are ALWAYS good.

Exercises in Futility

If I had to choose a tagline for my movie, this would probably be it. Of course, why would there be a movie about uninteresting people like me? Well, I'm sure the writers could add ninjas.

Futility, you have to love it. "Resistance is futile", and all those fun expressions. Obviously a humourous jumping off point for insulting myself. That is what I do, isn't it? What is so fruitless about my efforts, you may ask? A list might come in handy, but I prefer you to get lost in my redundant rhethoric and poorly written anecdotes. That's where all the real fun is. Plus, I just sounded like one of my English teachers just then.

The first month of second year is already in and ... I'm back to my lazy ways. Give me credit though, for almost trying to study in my free time. Maybe the first two weeks. Or it might've just been the one. I'm already the whole month behind on tons of homework (yes, they still give problem sets for math courses) and reviewing what I supposedly learned at the end of the day. But, there is that old familiar feeling that I seem to get every weekend: "Damn it, if it kills me, I'm catching up on the weekend", followed by, just before the minute it becomes Monday again with, "Well, the weekend's up, and I got nothing done". Seems to work fine for now. I should stick with it. It's futile to try anything otherwise.

Next up, Sudoku. Let's just say I didn't exactly get into it back in the day. Boy, did I sure pay that price. Of course, the old adage, practice makes perfect doesn't seem to apply for me. Feels more like practice makes embarassment. I try to do two puzzles every weekday - one from the Toronto Star (free on campus) and the Metro one. Of course, you could be sympathetic after you hear I've only been doing this for 2 or 3 months, but my lack of progress simply makes your optimism futile as well. I've noticed it, myself - standing there, looking like and idiot for minutes on end. I can usually find myself staring for over half an hour at the puzzle, perplexed and stupid enough to qualify for learning accessibility services. And, of course, the clincher is truly the part where I looked too hard for a simple solution - for 30 minutes. It usually takes me the whole commute, from near start to end to finish a puzzle. How long does it take for me to commute to and fro? Slightly over an hour. Yes, I hang my head in shame. Of course, a good excuse I've found is to "get tired" to get people to stop staring at me when I am ... stumped, for lack of a better word. Usually, I just fall asleep, so it saves me any extra embarassment.

And, to add to the list, give thanks to Henry. Obviously the curriculum at the University of Waterloo, or ULoo as I call it, is fairly lacking in some areas (see below). A futile effort on behalf of the teaching faculty, or so it seems.



Of course, elaboration: According to him, the answers in an online quiz as questions. Responses are all 'A'. Of course, when the same answer comes up on multiple choice it always looks fishy. Here follows a truncated, but accurate log (mostly to filter out the parts where I'm stupid):

hank. . .: lol
hank. . .: somethings very queer here
hank. . .: how come all my answers are 'A' so far
hank. . .: i hate it
Kelvin (Sober): are you sure its not you
hank. . .: because then it makes me doubt my answers
hank. . .: dude ims erious
hank. . .: 10 questions
Kelvin (Sober): yeah
hank. . .: all A
Kelvin (Sober): it does that
Kelvin (Sober): MAYBE THEY'RE ALL A
hank. . .: well we'll fucking see
hank. . .: if not
hank. . .: im going to cry
hank. . .: dude fuck
hank. . .: 12 questions
hank. . .: a~!
hank. . .: so i did chapt 2
hank. . .: and its all 'A's again
hank. . .: as unethical as it is
hank. . .: i just dont see the damn point in spending time reading over ecology shit
hank. . .: if they make it this easy
Kelvin (Sober): maybe you're doing it wrong
hank. . .: apparently i can submit a fake test
hank. . .: get teh answers
hank. . .: then do it again on my 2nd try
hank. . .: and get it all right
Kelvin (Sober): bahahaha
hank. . .: the professor or TA didnt try very hard
hank. . .: lol
hank. . .: chapt 3
hank. . .: on my 1st try
hank. . .: all A's
hank. . .: 100%
hank. . .: booyah!
hank. . .: Your response has been submitted successfully
Points Awarded 20
Points Missed 0
Percentage 100%

You can judge for yourself.

Next stop: back to normal

And just like that, summer vacation is over. Good riddance, I say. Wish it would come faster, because I'm still baking in this godforsaken weather. But at least it's been mostly dry this year. Humidity is an unnecessary cruelty.

Back to the grind. Well, I don't exactly operate (i.e. have classes) from 9 to 5 each day, but it'll be good to go back to a routine of sorts. Also, primetime tv as well returns, and of course, that means I had nothing to do for most of the summer (yes, nothing except nothing, which is something enough).

My summer can be summed up in: I did mostly nothing worth remembering, but I watched the Simpsons Movie, Rush Hour 3 and Mr. Bean's holiday. But that was about it. Oh and summer school, but it's not like this is an assignment. Nor am I getting marks.

I haven't caught up on my reading, so maybe I should. There's also alot of things "I should"s, but as soon as everything goes back to normal, that means I become just as lazy. It's just how I work. Perhaps I should get on Facebook more often. I haven't touched Facebook except maybe ... 3 times this year, and they lasted about 2 minutes each. Fantastic, aren't I?

Leaving me, leaving me here on my own

… but that’s all a lie. And yes, that line is also from that song. That I took a line from earlier.

I, unfortunately will not be my own. Hello again. Here is your week’s notice, because in some two week period between August 11 and 28, the old folks are off back home, leaving me and the two hellspawn creatures that are my siblings. I personally never liked flying, even before 9/11. Well, two or so weeks of freedom will do us some good, and when I use ‘us’, I refer to not me, because it will probably result, 13 hours and 43 minutes later that I will have to do everything myself, because neither one of my siblings can be trusted with watching the stove or oven. Might as well just turn the gas then light a match, same effect.

And now, take a breather. Not that the last paragraph was particularly long, that breather was for me. I think sometimes I take a little too long between entries. Or that may mean I live a very boring life. Or I’m lazy. How lazy? Must I say again? Well, I am writing this even though I promised myself this weekend I should be working on this assignment due next Thursday. “This weekend” proceeded to become “Saturday, after lunch”, which did not seem to pan out either. Maybe “Sunday, after lunch”, but I am planning to watch the Simpsons Movie, probably just before noon, so unless I lose my train of thought again I just might … what was I going on about now?

Oh yes, the last of my classes finish Thursday as well, which is when this assignment/presentation is due. I’m pretty sure I could do it on time, or even before, except I have this reminder that I am pretty lazy. I could be doing research, taking notes, preparing. Or I could be doing this. Obviously I am more important, so I am doing this for my own benefit, and I think I kept myself waiting long enough (anyone else who actually reads – but doesn’t comment, you fiends – also counts too. Just not as much as me).

Now before I forget:

The Thursday morning commute was a bit different. I may have stumbled on the subway train with more tourists (Tourists during rush hour? Doubt it), because the train driver who was announcing stops that morning at least had a sense of humour. And had proper annunciation; you cannot believe some of the drivers who mumble your next stop. Well, this guy, he was something else. Some of the most memorable lines include: “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of all shapes and sizes, colours and origins … the next stop is Donlands, Donlands station.”, “It’s a beautiful day today in Toronto”, as we passed over the bridge over the Don Valley between Broadview and Castle Frank, “everyone enjoy your day and make the most of it” (or something along those lines). Lastly, which elicited a few chuckles was “Next stop is the Official Centre of the Universe, Bloor (-Yonge) Station”. If you get that joke, good, because I really don’t feel like explaining it right now. But it was funny. Pretty funny.

Weird tidbit: Weird things happen in bed, well, in this case, when I’m asleep. I go to sleep fully clothed (T-shirt, shorts, not winter pyjama attire), except I realize only after I take a late-night trip to the washroom do I realize I’m only down to my boxers. Such a mystery, I may need to film and document this … but that would be just a tad too creepy, even for me.

Some sad news: The ride is almost come to an end, because I’ve almost finished watching season 6 of Gilmour Girls. There are 7 seasons, which means at the pace I watch TV shows, this could be over before I start studying for my final test. Because I’m that lazy. But in all seriousness, Gilmour Girls was a good show, and damn those suits for cancelling it after all that, since all the characters, through good times and bad in their character development is always so likable, or even relatable. Sure, there aren’t guns blazing or SWAT teams busting through roofs or ninjas, but who says I can’t watch more than that? Screw your gender roles and stereotypes. Besides, Gilmour Girls was pretty funny.

Next TV season, new shows don’t look as promising though. There are maybe 4 or 5 new shows, and for the most part are dramadies, because that should be how life plays out, funny with a hint of “wow that was serious”. What am I watching out for?

Bionic Woman is a remake of the old 70s show, but better and contemporary. By the guys who remade Battlestar Galactica. No need to feel nerdy watching because it’s on a channel everyone gets, not some sci-fi specialty channel. Don’t worry, Heroes might’ve brought sci-fi to the mainstream.

Chuck is about a 20-year old something guy who becomes a human computer after his old roommate e-mails him everything all government secret like (CIA and friends), but the twist is he’s just a nerd who works in the tech department at a big box store. Geek and spy story, and it sounds interesting. (I could never figure out how to use geek and nerd, so sue me). Also Adam Baldwin from Firefly (Jayne) is one of the agents, so it doesn’t get better.

Reaper is about the main character Sam, who, strangely enough, also works at a big-box store (which is conveniently a Canadian Tire all dressed up differently), which he finds out when he turns 21, that his parents sold his soul to the devil, and the devil in turn recruits him to be his bounty hunter, collecting souls that escaped hell. The devil himself has a sense of humour, lucky/fortunate us

The Sarah Connor Chronicles is “the better sequel” to Terminator 2. Basically this is the better alternate universe (that is, Terminator 3 never happens), so it takes off two years after Terminator 2 (great movie), and the Connors are off to run from Terminators and travelling to 2008 to try to stop Judgement Day. Again. The ‘good’ terminator is the Summer Glau (River Tam from Firefly – what’s with all the Firefly? More awesome, obviously) and yes, she kicks shiny metal ass.

Yes, I watched all the pilot episodes, but if you’re a suit working for a big corporation and those last few paragraphs are just … coincidence. Coincidence … yes. Well, I’d watch it if they aired again, even with commercials. What I didn’t like was The Big Bang Theory, which is about a hot chick moving across the hall from a pair of nerds. When I say nerds, we are talking about the
1990s typical high-school chess-club, computer-club, A/V-club, Math-club, Algebra-club (because even they’re too intense for the math club) stereotypical nerds who basically watch frame-by-frame Star Wars/Star Trek/Battlestar Galactica for the slightest of hints. Needless to say, there goes their target audience. And the chick (her character at least) is a complete ditz (I’ll assume her being blonde is a total coincidence). The “jokes” are possibly funny, but that means you somehow ended up being in their target audience that didn’t turn away fast enough, even with the presence of a laugh track (which wasn’t put to much good use).

Oh wow, 1200 words. No, this is not practice for my 1000 word essay, which is part of my final assignment. But does it matter even if it was? Actually, I get docked points for going over 1000, which is the hard part. Damn these low word limits. Yes, I’m still horrible at conclusions in essay writing or not – still have and will probably always will be so I’ll just end it in the most classic way one can.

That’s it.

*goes back to seat*

Those idle hands...

... they are the devil's tools!

Well, I wouldn't try to make a movie out of this short-lived experience of mine (as such), and heck, I wouldn't even consider it even a partial or successful possession. And no, I am not trying to find anything funny about Happy Time, because this is not about it (If you've watched the Transformers movie it might sound familiar).

Ah yes, I forget, I may be talking to myself, but my senile, hysterical future self would kill me (if he had the time machine, the strength and something to rule out the paradox) for not writing down exactly what happened. Alright. Simply put, browsing the Internet late at night seems to qualify. At least for an automated probe by the possession forces of Lucifer/Satan/Lex Luthor (this list goes on and on). My finger twitched! As in, it had a mind of it's own! It took every ounce of willpower to beat it back to the hellish depths from whence it came. Give or take. I may have rolled a 20, which meant smooth sailing for me. I expect to have my room completely exorcised by the end of the week.

Lastly, I have discovered a smell that rivals Old Spice. Yes, Old Spice, I may or may not use it, and it is a familiar scent to those who do and know those who do. But take a towel that has been kept in a drawer for a lengthy amount of time (for the lack of a better term). An IKEA one, I might add. Bathe, then apply said towel in drying procedure. Apparently this scent (of a drawer) will overtake the mighty Old Spice. Or maybe not, I can never tell the two apart sometimes. But it's good if you want to pass off as being Swedish. Or an IKEA employee. Dye your hair bleach blonde, and you may pass as a Swedish IKEA employee.

I'm also more than meets the eye

So what about that Transformers movie? I thought it was pretty good, except, as some other people might've said, the robot forms were a little too busy and had too much on them. Whoever designed them did a helluva good job, just in the action sequences it gets kinda messy for the eyes (which haven't gone bad), although I would've just as much liked a throwback to the 80's designs, all blocky. I'm not exactly a hardcore Transformers fan, so I took most of the movie as it was instead of trying to compare it straight to the cartoons of yesteryear.

It was pretty entertaining, even though anyone who's watched a Steven Spielberg or Michael Bay film could probably tell it was pretty obvious who was in charge of which parts of the movie. And I'd be considered a neophyte in the field of moves. Well, at least, the moral of the story (and also the teen storyline) is that the only way you'll get the girl you've been pining for 10 years but hasn't acknowledged your existance is to get her caught up in saving the world with you. Now if I could only end up having to save the world...

I still hate the summer months, the air is hot and heavy, and as much as I like seeing girls in short attire, I wasn't made for this weather, no matter how much I was born in Hong Kong, aka humidity central (it's on the list, if there was a list).

And the first test for my biology class, results are out. Apparently:

The following is a breakdown of the class distribution:
A (>80%), 18.4%
B (70-79%), 28.6%
C (60-69%), 15.3%
D (50-59%), 22.4%
Less than 50%, 15.3%.

Now there's a reason why the classes have been so empty. I scored the in the B region. Yes, I'm just as dull as I seem.

It's a system

So, of all the worse times to be thinking of anything else, it just has to be during a test. On evolutionary biology, of all things. Anyways, it was all multiple choice, and it got me thinking that as I was going through my motions of doing multiple choice tests (which I completely loathe these days), I told myself, "Ye Gods, I have a system. How sad is that?"

Yes, apparently, a system for going through multiple choice tests, and is as follows:

• The goal is to run from one end of the test to the other as fast as possible, only answering what you can
  
• If I know it immediately, the corresponding spot on the scantron is filled
• If not, examine the question, see if the question and/or answers are wordy, and try to make an educated guess, or try to eliminate what I can
• If I can't, then I mark down on my scantron with a small scribble what I think would be the most likely - this may range between 1 and 3 - this helps in case I need to rush in the last few minutes and don't have time to think.
  
• I circle the number on the question page and cross out any eliminated answers to look at later
  
• lather, rinse, repeat until I reach the end
• start back at #1, then try to fill the rest in, taking my time.

If you can't figure out what the answer even remotely is, stop telling yourself you should've studied, and that bloodying the desk by slamming your head against it won't help your case. Though what I may suggest in the following may seem ... insane to do during a test, hey, if you don't know it and they you don't lose marks for guessing wrong, why not guess?

• If you can't decide from any of them, look away and point to one at random, or what I do, hold my pencil going up and down against my options, look away, then move my pencil up and down until I stop, then take what's there.
• if there are two possibilites left, think logically. If you can't, flip a coin, eraser, play rock-paper-scissors with the person beside you or something to figure out.

I take no responsibility for anyone doing this for real (besides myself), and it's your own darn fault for even trying to do anything I suggest, especially if it concerns something important. But it's damn fun, and the number of times you need to do this is a good indication of what you actually know (or think you know).

Although, looking back at this in hindsight, I shouldn't have said or typed a thing, and charged everyone to attend a class on taking multiple choice test stra by me. At least I could've made money. Oh well, what's done is done.


Funny coincidence of the day: at St. George subway station, they have posters up of the 10 girls in Canada's Next Top Model this year, and funny enough, all the girls that were eliminated (5 now) all have their faces plastered with a big red "X" to indicated they're gone. The strange thing is all of these 5 are on the Westbound side of the station. And they were always there, noone moved them whatsoever, they were the same since they were put up (don't ask how I would remember this. Really, don't ask). Strange, no?

I also bought Kelly Clarkson's new album, My December. It's not too bad, I probably just have to break it in by listening to it, but I'm sure Breakaway was better, though she's touched every song on this album. Oh, and go ahead and make jokes, but I won't be hurt, unless something like this happens to me.

No, I really bought it, take a looksee:



Kinda a shame noone even buys music anymore, that's why even Sam The Record Man is gone now. Most important thing is to vote with your money. If you take things like music or movies for free left and right, well, sure, your wallet is a little more full, but people who are trying to get some of that money are kinda gone. So, while I'm not saying buy everything at HMV, at least support your favourite artists, etc. by buying. I sound like a damn broken record saying it, but it's true, my naivete or not included. Or we could go utilitarian. Those guys sure have tons of fun.



Also, dumpy is an actual word. That would've helped me when I was trying to figure out that word in today's Jumble.

I hope everyone had a good Canada Day, maybe with a barbeque and everything, ending with watching some fireworks. I had to hold my face against the window with the lights off to make anything out from where I live and where my room faces. Happy 140, Canada.

Well, maybe next year...

Well, too bad for Ottawa, because they'll have to try again next year. If you're a Sens fan (you know who you all are, since there are so few of you), you might feel angry, distraught, betrayed, or other feelings. Do not fret, because you shall know the true value of telling yourself, "maybe next year"**. All the Leafs fans (like me) do it.

I, too, am feeling distraught, frustrated and betrayed, but not because of the Sens. I only watched the games because it was hockey, and I didn't root for either team, because who wants to cheer for Ottawa? And who wants to cheer for Anaheim in a room full of "Go Ottawa for the cup"-bandwagoners? I'm not that crazy. Well, let's just say it has something to do with the next SimCity, and how it's pissing off the community. Oh well, it seems we're going to stick with SimCity4. I am.

This week, my bio class has proven it actually has a sense of humour. Also, I'd like to have this down when I'm senile, old, grey haired and suffering from arthritis in my toes to read and dream about the "good 'ol days". A lecture on human evolution covered a part on sexual selection and the thesis of this book. It was quite a laugh to learn that females like guys with bigger brains (wait, did I italisize the wrong word again?) through the evolution of the human brain, so things like sense of humour completely outweighs things such as "he looks like and has the build of a pool boy or the man on the cover of a sappy romance novel". It apparently works both ways these days, but I always had a thing for smart and funny girls. ;)

Also, my lab manual is completely hilarious. According to exerpts of the lab instructions (especially more fun when reading this part completely out of context):

"Do not mate until instructed to do so by your instructor"
"Choose any student in the calss to mate with. Mates need not be of the opposite sex. You are completely promiscuous and cannot reject any suitor"

I nearly broke down and cried from laughter.


**Actual delusions sold seperately.

It's (going to be) a cruel summer

It's not even June 21st, and Mother Nature has decided to gear up to make my life just a little worse between now and until I die.

Oh, and yes, the title is pretty much ripped from the line of the song Cruel Summer.

I may have been born in Hong Kong, but for the record (for about the 237th time), I was born there, but it doesn't make me any more tolerant to heat, even if it should have. Humid hot is the worst - the air is heavy and wet, you're all sticky and you're struggling for each breath. Mother Nature's chokehold just about suits this phenomenon, and she probably wrestles too. It isn't made anymore comfortable by the fact my room is just above the garage. Roof shingles are generally asphalt-y, and asphalt, being black-coloured, absorbs light, gets all hot, and I can probably see the wavy lines during high noon. The window faces the direction the wind blows, so I get no wind. That is, my window opens to the right. Conveniently, the wind blows from the west, which is obviously my right. Entertaining as it is, even if my room were converted into a meat locker, it'd still be warmer than any other room in the house, plus, heat rises. Damn physics, I've been had again by you.

This means I've always liked to relocate into the basement, or the family room (I'd call it a den, but it's far from one) until the sun sets. During the long, hot days of summer, sleeping on the couch is a luxury (particularily because I'm not married and have a wife force me down there for thinking/doing/being stupid). I do wish pillows had more sides though, because as soon as that side you're resting on is warm, you switch it over. But what happens when you have to switch it again? That "still cooling down" feeling.

And to touch on the subject again regarding women's summer ... appearance (for lack of a better word). It's been pointed time in, time out - they dress as if to be stared at, but any bit of staring results in either a slap to the face, a eye full of pepper spray, a combination of both, or in the extremely rare case, a Hadouken. Now, for some women, that's not too bad, for some others, looking one way means you look regardless, especially in ... closer quarters. Not that close, but it's quite hard to concentrate with the fairly revealing top and the short skirt/shorts, especially if she is sitting in front of you. But as I said, close, but not that close. But close enough.


Here's a start for the summer season. I wouldn't say I've made anything of myself yet (or ever), but I've done something for myself. I cleaned my room. This is because I have a spiffy, new 19" monitor. I cleaned my desk to make room for it, which led to cleaning most of the rest of my room. I emphasize clean beacause, first, it is not infact entirely clean. I do not refer to the location and presense of the unavoidable villain, dust, but rather because I simply ... haven't finished cleaning my room. It was going to be my Mother's Day gift, but it's still a work in progress, and only 6-year-olds use this for a Mother's Day gift. Don't ask what I got for my mother, because I didn't. Wait, did I just say that out loud? Crap.

Secondly, my room is not clean in another sense, because I follow the Law of Conservation of Mess. Yes, I'm taking a shot at you, physics. An eye for an eye. Though it's not as equal as it should be. The law of conservation of mass states no matter can be created or destroyed. So, the same applies for messes, or if you really want to make this a real scientific law, use the word "disorganizationalification", because it sounds more sciencey. I may clean my room, but as I do, someone's room is getting more "disorganizationalificated". So, if you see/have a half-clean room (or half-dirty), it might be because of me. You can't defy physics, but I just made it work in my favour.

Waking up early is good

It's a terrible afflication, I enjoy waking up early, unlike most people at my age. I hope it's not contagious like the flu. Or snoring. But I never did mind waking up early, it's just that until recently I never did because of staying up until 3 AM every night, which meant I crawled out of bed around 10 or 11 AM. So I told (or promised for you optimistic weirdos) to go to bed early so I could get up earlier. Again. It worked, and it wasn't a New Years Resolution, because those always end up being broken, and that's also why I never make any.

On the subject of dreams, I get really weird ones, but the strangest I get are dreams involving me and mere acquaintances getting along all chum-chummy like, which is weird, because that contradicts the whole point of being 'meh' friends/acquaintences. I wish there was surgery for this, I'm sure I'd pay good money to get rid of it.

I'm still stuck on the fence if I should have breakfast before or after brushing my teeth. I like the freshness in my mouth before I eat something, but then again, I'm getting my mouth all full of food after waking up and washing it. And also, toothpaste, especially with that weird minty flavour, makes some of my food taste weird, especially my morning Frutopia, makes it all sour because of - I don't remember the science behind it but it means I have to wait (which means I get more hungrier) so my food doesn't taste like it came out of the rear end of a sub-saharan African animal. Pick any one, I really don't care.

Okay, Spiderman 3, I'm sure everyone's watched it by now, and - I really don't care what everyone (most other people) thought, I thought it was pretty good, but with a villain like Venom, they didn't really satisfy the really hardcore Spidey fans - I watched the old Marvel cartoons back in the day - so I didn't really like their interpretation of Venom, so comic book fans may be more ticked off but I thought it was a good movie regardless. There are worse movies out there.

Oh, and until you've watched the movie, just because the Symbiote is black and Peter's hair is down "emo" style, he is far from emo; womanizing is far from an emo characteristic. Neither is this:



On the subject of superheroes, who has watched NBC's Heroes? Unlike most other people, I didn't jump on the bandwagon onto a very successful show halfway in, I was in from the start - heck, before the start, I watched the leaked pilot in July or August (first episode). I remember seeing a promo or two in June/July, googled it, thought to myself, "Sci-fi is finally going to make it in prime time", considering there were some the year before that didn't do so well.

If you haven't watched Heroes though, you better find some way to catch up for the second season in September with the finale next Monday. Do it or you might find yourself waking up missing some vital organs or extremities. (Disclaimer: I really didn't mean that, in case you're deciding to call 911 or not but pretend I didn't say this.) One other show I'm planning on watching is Gilmour Girls, since the series is over (as in no more, that's it - kaput) I don't have to worry about catching up before September when it would've aired again. But 7 seasons is alot to go through.

Oh, and I have a Wii. More on that later.

Free and Dumb

Free, dumb? Freedom? Get it? I thought you wouldn't, and there's two reasons why. Either I'm too smart for everyone, or everyone's just too dumb.

Free - I am now free (give or take a week) before I go back to classes, or more accurately, summer school. Luckily, I don't feel as bad because most of the people I bumped into or know are actually taking summer courses (albeit not mine, everyone planned ahead to avoid me). It's only 2 days a week, but for 6 hours, which is twice the amount of classes per week of lectures in a regular year. Oh, and ther regular year is twice as long as the summer "year". So twice the work in half the time, I'm going at 4 times the speed, baby! So much for free. Unless I stick to old habits, I guess I am... for 5 of 7 days of the week.

Dumb - What I do is empty out my brain from whatever I remembered after a test or exam, and just forget about it. No point in worrying about what you wrote on a test because you're not getting it back until it's marked. Unless you called your TA a(n) [expletive of choice], or any "offenses" to your TA (my History TA said she'd personally lower your marks for calling the Middle Ages the Dark Ages, but only because that's her specialty). So, right now, I'm done exams and I'm letting my grey matter liquify (in fact, my Psych test had a question on grey matter, I don't think I got that question right). In fact, if I didn't know any better, my brain failed halfway through the exam.

Funny story with today's exam, apparently the "place of higher learning", calling itself the University of Toronto, couldn't crunch a bunch of simple numbers - when everyone arrived for the exam and entered the exam room, well, it just so happened there weren't enough seats. But I'm not talking about 4 or 5 people, more like 30 or so. Give or take 30 people didn't have a seat at the original intended exam room, so I and alot of other people, including a few people I met during labs, had to march halfway across campus to another room to write the exam. Wasn't that great either, it was dimmed lecture hall, and when I say lecture hall, it also means uncomfortable chairs and crappy makeshift tables. Writing an exam for three hours - those are horrible conditions. At least the original exam room had actual tables and chairs, even though the room seemed to be some kind of church hall, so lighting was just as bad.

Okay, I'm getting hungry, which means I need to make dinner, because my sister, who was tasked with making dinner, like everyone else she is tasked with, seems to forget to do it because she's a moron. So it looks like I'm up to bat. Because I'd rather not starve even when I'm free, poetic as it sounds.

Talking to air

Holy crap he's back so soon! Holy crap!

Okay, don't panic.


Talking to air, my specialty, but not me this time. Well, from the beginning, I rushed out the door around 12:30 with my hastily typed up 26 page long and annotated timeline worth 1000 years or so of European history. Exam, of course. Anyways, I hop on the bus to the subway station, and sometime between Main Street and Bloor stations, this girl sits down beside me. No problem, the guy took the seat, so she's forced to sit beside me. I assumed she wasn't in highschool because she has a metropass. Ok, so like I cared past that, I was trying to go through the Reformation again in my notes.

She pops out a drink from the corner of my eye. Looks like chocolate milk or something. Whatever. She downs it a few times, then all of a sudden, she goes "Oh, so smooth and creamy.". But there's noone else there. I was about to believe she was on the phone (oh Bluetooth, how many people you've made to look insane), but obviously what rest I heard wouldn't amount to telephone banter even for two Japanese immigrants trying to speak English through the phone the first day in learning English. So, back to figuring out what the hell Martin Luther did again, then again, she starts going on some jibber jabber, just trying to say some nonsense into air. Obviously, there's noone she came with, she's just talking straight at her. A real basketcase.

Too bad though, my stop was coming up, and I was busy studying, so I couldn't possibly try to outcrazy her. Wasn't ready, didn't have anything lined up, so I just got up and waited for my stop. I'm pretty sure she was high on something, but just enough not to accidentally walk onto the rails before the train pulled into whatever station she got on, because I would've probably been late for my exam. Plus that's an unfair advantage, I have to channel out my sane, rational, lucid thoughts to be crazy while she just has to sniff or pop whatever and does it. It's like using steroids in the Olympics, it's an unfair advantage.

Two down, two to go

The only thing about exam season I don't like is that I don't really get much studying done. Let's look at some examples, or actually, what I did for the first two exams I wrote already:

Psych 100 on Wednesday - read all my notes, did some questions in the study guide the day before the exam. I was hoping the study guide would do me some good, and it did, considering I found I could answer more than "Name" on the scantron sheet without having to guess. But multiple choice is a doozy for such a course that apparently used to be a full year and got "promoted" to being a half course with the same content - i.e. learning twice as fast, which is something I haven't or don't hope to master.

Poli Sci 103 on Friday - reread the entire text, went over my notes - which didn't amount to much, just in-class slide notes for 80% of the time - and went over them again. This was the night before - I will define "The night before" as from 4PM the day before to 2AM the day of, with multiple breaks inbetween lasting 15 to 30 minutes. Come exam day, it was a 3 hour exam full of writing - the most B.S.'ing I've had to do in a long time; writing essays in an hour isn't exactly one of my fortes so I pretty much skipped anything conventional about essays. I did that last test and I didn't get penalized for it. I love getting away with things. I'll admit, it all made sense after I finished studying, because I didn't pay attention in class for the most part. Content is interesting indeed, but I'm no longer interested in politics.


Upcoming matches:

Me vs History 109, or remember 1000 years of European History (the course says something like 1300-1945, but we all know history doesn't happen in a bubble, so it rounds up and down to around 1000CE - Sept 10, 2001). Tuesday! TUESDAY! TUESDAY! 2-5PM, more exam writing, but I like history, so this won't feel much of a chore ... as long as I start studying, considering I already skipped Friday afternoon (yeah right) and all of Saturday (because it's Saturday regardless).

Me vs. Organic Chem/Chem 138: Thursday Morning. This sounds like fun because I already did another chem exam for the first half (CHM139), but numbers aside, this is pretty much all concepts. My cousin argues this is harder and number crunching is easier, but he loaths physics because it is both conceptual and number crunching at once. Good thing I pulled out of Grade 12 physics when I had (the first week). Chem though, it's not too tough - even though I didn't do exceptionally well on the previous tests, I don't really want to worry since it's the same process I've done before for quite a while. I won't worry. At least not yet.

Maybe I really should start studying.

Easily Distracted

First off, I'd like to offer my deepest condolences to everyone in the Blacksburg, Virginia area and all the students of Virginia Tech, from one student to another.

I say this out of sincerity, not to fit into the norm or sound repetitive or to make a point, something witty or sardonic. It was a tragedy, and it would be less than human to do otherwise, but some people have found these tragedies make perfect situations to forward their political agendas.

I'll say it now, F--- politics. Nothing good comes out of it without something bad along with it.



Okay, so now that that's settled, let's proceed on a lighter tone, or, the usual around here.

Obviously, I didn't expect any comments from my last post because noone ever actually comments, it's exam season for universities, and frankly, that was a pretty crappy title.

On the subject of exam season, from reading various MSN names, it seems everyone who doesn't go to U of T seems to be almost rid of the curse they call exams. So, I expect comments (not really) considering everyone else will be done. Myself? They start on the week of the 23rd (next week), 2 that week, 2 the week after. But then, what am I doing here, I may ask? While you're at it, ask why you're here. Hit that "Next Blog" button if I'm really giving off some strange vibe (it's not my B.O., I just had a shower).

Easily distracted, I am. First exam is on Wednesday next week, then the next on Friday, Tuesday and Thursday, and what do I have to show for it? Well, I'm writing this? Maybe practice? Other than that, I've been doing anything other than studying, even when I'm bored in and out of my skull, I really want to find something other than start the studying process. I'll never be free considering I'll be in perpetual learning this summer. Summer courses sound fun until you find out you're doing twice the amount of work in half the amount of time. Yippie?

Honestly, I have no idea what I'm more afraid of this time of year, learning (or in some cases, re-learning) all that information, containing it in my brain to write down into something coherent in 3 hours, or having to do that with regular washroom breaks due to coffee and Frutopia.

Let's just hope I don't get distracted again ... oh, a pink kite ... wait, at 3:30 in the morning? The insomnia must be wearing off. Let's hope I don't get distracted to write another one of these. For all our sakes.

Untitled

So, another Tuesday afternoon, and that would mean another wasted day due to evening classes. Fortunately, this is the last week of classes, and even more fortunate for me that I have nothing good to do, so I thought I’d scribble down this week’s ramblings and schizophrenic thoughts down for the whole wide (web) world to ignore. I actually couldn’t think of a title, maybe because I have no work left to do, so I’m letting my mind relax too hard and my organizational skills have been taken out to the woods and shot, Old Yeller style. So, in my nerdom, I do what Windows does, call it untitled until you give it a name. But I’ll leave it as such.

I’m also on campus, so I’m typing this on Word, because, although I don’t give 3/8ths a damn what anyone thinks of me, I don’t want to look pretentious, and have people walk by only to say “What a(n) [expletive].”, because I know you know, I don’t need to hear it from you; so it’s only a matter of a quick copy and paste, and I look as if I’m busy. Not that you needed to know.

Here’s a funny thing I do when I write this, I essentially devote all attention to the task at hand, and that’s probably the only time I actually do it. So well, in fact, I may forget what I was going to write if I don’t stop and slap myself across the face. (Truth: I do in fact, do this) I don’t write this down because I can do this all from memory. At least I think I can. But the fact is, if it’s worth remembering, I’ll remember it. At least when I look back when I’m 246 (yes, I’ll last that long, and that is if I haven’t stopped writing for no one, the fun of it all), I’ll remember what I need to remember, just maybe reinforced in words than in fuzzy memory.

Okay, let’s move on.

First off, Hockey is over in Toronto. Hockey-mecca has hockey end prematurely, for the second year in a row now, because we didn’t make the playoffs. If you’re a Senators’ fan (you know who you are), don’t you dare rub it in. You’re just lucky we’re not there to completely annihilate you when we get to you guys anyways. Consider your team lucky. Very lucky. Lucky indeed. And I hope Pittsburgh kicks your butt. That being said, “Go Canucks” … at least until they get eliminated.

Summer school is going to be interesting, because I need to think of what to do for summer school. No, don’t get started on “Kelvin, you need a job you stupid hippie”, I know that for a fact, and I’ll get … right … on it. (That means I won’t) I won’t even try to rationalize why I don’t have a job yet, because anything I say is purely irrational. Anyways, back to summer school: Four more months stuck on campus, but less time spent in classes, because no sane person (and me) would do anything close to a full course load. Not under that hot summer sun. In those hot, humid sweaty conditions. So damn hot, and distracting, and that’s just the heat.

New tangent – summer, and why I don’t really like it. Sure, holidays and all that, but first, I’ll be stuck in summer school (for my own ‘benefit’, I suppose), and not only is the heat and humidity distracting (I’m not a summer person, you may have guessed). I’m more a winter person; I like the cold, or just the cool, as long as it’s dry as well (and dry heat is slightly more tolerable). And the ladies? I like them all year around (I’d better), but I prefer them in the winter than in the summer. In the summer, they wear next to nothing, and as much as I like that, I like it when they wear more. Layers, bulk, hoods, fur boots, that kind of stuff. Maybe I really am mentally ill, can you name any other male on this planet that would admit the same, picking puffy winter coats and sweaters over low cut spaghetti straps, short skirts and thongs sticking out of jeans? I didn’t think so.

Quick sidenote though, women do crazy things. I won’t list them all; this’ll be short, just some things I’ve remembered. I’ve actually walked downwind of someone who had perfume that smelled like cookie dough, or playdoh (or something similar). Now that’s strange considering it’s usually some fruit scent or weird, yet pleasant aroma. Second, I’ve seen someone, … how do I describe this … applying mascara on the subway. I don’t know what leads some women to do this but I won’t even put something with an even more blunt of a point near my eyes in any moving vehicle. And I wear glasses too.

Anyways, I’ve taken quite a shine (that really doesn’t sound right, so I’ll use it) to playing SimCity again. I’ve never played the first one, but I’ve spent (or wasted) a few good years playing SimCity 2000 and 3000, and now I’m moving onto 4. Funny enough, SimCity 4 is, well, 4 years old, but still has a pretty large online community that seems pretty friendly. Guess it pays when you don’t play with violent games; everyone seems so helpful all of a sudden. I’ve seen people put together some amazing looking cities, and I’m having fun losing a good amount of my time (before crunch time) playing. Who knows, maybe I’ll eventually do something successful one day, even if it’s just in a video game. I don’t have any desire to start going into urban planning, but who knows? I sure don’t, but it’d be pretty funny to see me help start planning the layout of the city. It’d be a total disaster.

And then we reach crunch week. I don’t have anything fun to say or anything to use against me here, but if you’re reading this (again, probably not, but I’d like to entertain that thought – that may have rhymed without my knowledge), you’re either not busy enough, or you’re done, and with that, I curse your schedule for being much better than mine. And if you’re not taking summer school, you’d better be earning good money, because it’s likely I won’t be.

See you after the dust settles.

The Oncoming Storm

What is The Oncoming Storm? Why did I capitalize it? Is it something famous? Maybe. It has one meaning, but through habit that they teach you to do in school since forever now, there's bound to be more than one meaning for something, whether you can find an actual connection or not. Ah, the beauty of English class. And I shall deliver, if only out of habit. See, school is good for you.

Saturday, March 31st is when the next season of Doctor Who airs. He is this Oncoming Storm you've been hearing about last paragraph. If you don't know what Doctor Who is, in a nutshell, it's a British Sci-Fi series about a guy with 13 lives that travels time and space with human companions in a spaceship diguised as a police box, and yes, it's bigger on the inside. Even his pockets. It's been going on since 1963, yep, that's right, before we were born. Granted, I'm not British, nor do I have BBC One, but I have my ways to watch it some time after they do. I mean, it is the Internet.

Oliver, if you're reading this, I've given you about a week's notice. You should be watching this, studying in London and all. You want to fit in? Watch Doctor Who. You'll probably fit in more than trying to "fake" British by using words like "bruvva" and "oi" - in fact, stop acting like a chav in general. Yes, that's right, stop acting like a chav.

On that note, I myself am also technically British. I was born in Hong Kong before China got it back, so wouldn't that mean I'm technically British?

More "oncoming storms" ... yes, I have two tests next week. It's crunch time again, and just imagine I'll tell you how much I don't study. Because I hate repeating myself. I hate repeating myself. I just hate it. Repeating myself. Oh, how I hate repeating myself.


Off on another tangent and to a more interesting topic: Glasses.

I recently got another "upgrade". By upgrade it means I still have my original eyes, just new glasses. Rather than be some ol' plain jane, I decided to pick a different style. No, just a tad more riskier, not horn-rimmed or anything. Semi-rimmed! I would've liked alternating rims on top and below for each side, but, like I said, nothing too risky. Yet.


So, care to see my new coke bottles? No? Yes? It doesn't matter, it's not the circus freakshow. I give you the World premiere of my face on the Internet in ... a long time. If you already know what I look like, it's not much of a big surpise. I put a nice simple Before/After picture to get your minds in order in case you're nuttier than I am. And without futher ado:







OH MY GOSH THE RIMS WHERE HAVE THEY GONE? (Well, half of them at least)

And yes, personal hygene out the window; that is, I always forget to shave. Oh, and I'm hideous, so I don't have to worry about any stalkers. If they only knew...





Another funny incident about glasses though (scroll down if you really can't stand my face, I even gave you the extra blank space for that, aren't I nice, at least?) happened just this Thursday. On the streetcar on the way to class, I was standing beside this ... let's just put it this way, he was probably weirder than me on some levels. He was wearing glasses, but he wasn't at the same time. He was, how shall I put it, wearing just the frames. Yes, no actual lenses, so that must mean either contacts or he's faking intelligence. But not that, because his frames were purple. And plastic. How did I know he didn't have any lenses? Well, there was no reflection or distortion if you looked at them. And how did I stare long enough to deduce that? He was on the phone... which is also strange, who do you talk to during the morning commute, now that is a mystery.

Dial 61 For Murder

Strangely enough, or rather, not really, since it is me we're talking about, I fall into a minority? Minority there too, yes. But 61 and change on an organic chem test. This is the minority. The majority apparently, through some quick scanning of test scores, falls somewhere from 20-40%. Of course, I'm somewhat disappointed with a 61%, not because I'm super-duper yellow in any case that I only believe in numbers between 9x10 and 10x10, but it could've been better. I can only imagine how many people nearly committed suicide on getting their tests back, though. An amusing thought at times. At least I beat the average, which was an appalling 59.6%, but since I beat it, I am technically above average, so take that.

I'm not a real conversationalist (considering the amount I type each time you visit when I decide to expel something new out of my mind - where do I make up this crap anyways? I don't know.), but through just sheer force of sitting there and listening to what other people have to say while I do nothing else (strange I don't have a girlfriend right? She could complain to me all day and I'd just listen and actually listen... unless hockey's on. Then she needs to shut up.) I've concluded that the professors at U of T are here to screw us over. The chem test was pretty fair, except for the part where the test questions are extremely disproportionate to the work they give you. And the quizes too. Man, the quizes I get are such jokes, you should be stoned for not getting near-perfect or perfect on those things. The homework - I swear to you, I did so much of the homework to prep for the first test - and this is weeks before the test - because I didn't do that last semester and I paid for it. So I expect my dues for being so diligent. 61% is apparently my reward. Sheesh.

Let's put it into perspective. Let's take grade 2 math (or something). The quizes practically ask "Jimmy, what's 1+1?" and the textbook questions range from questions of "Jimmy, what's 2+3?" or "Jimmy, what's 3x3?" The test then asks "Jimmy, derive this using first principles: [huge equation]". Sounds fair, no?


Next? Ah yes. Just last week I proved the expression "third time's the charm" false. Again. No, not with those girls sitting in Psych 100, I didn't get rejected 3 times ... yet. It's R-R-R-R-R-Roll-up-the-Rim season again in Canadianistan (and laughing at those who can't R-R-R-R-R-Roll their tongues), and this is when I pay just under 1.50$ in a vain attempt for a bigger return. Yes, I can read, chances are 1 of 9, but I simply don't care. Not even a free doughnut, which isn't even breaking even. Well, at least I get a hot chocolate out of it -- THAT'S RIGHT, I don't drink coffee. I'm probably insane enough to keep me afloat through the wee hours of the night (i.e. right now), so the sugar is enough for me. And the chocolate. Don't even get me started with chocolate, I swear I seemed to have adopted some strange relation to chocolate, as if I were a female, but only with chocolate. It seems like it's the disability I have to live with. Wonder if I can get those handicap spots?


On my two final papers I have to do. One is due today, Monday, the other, tomorrow, or Tuesday. Well, I finished my history paper and proved my TA wrong. Who needs to have all this time to take notes, and sort through all your information, and outline. I did all my research in 5 days over 3 weeks (i.e. Every Sunday that I'd remember, and the occasional Saturday). Paper was written in less than 12 hours, but only because I had so much fun doing it, and getting distracted from writing it. And because I have to hand in everything, and multiple pointless rough drafts makes your paper look better. So I proved my TA wrong. At least until she proves me wrong by marking it. Pray it's not a 61. At least we had fun discussing the movie 300, history on film, then a bunch of other crazy thing during tutorial.

PoliSci, oh jeez, what can I say - I'd drop the course if it wasn't too late and I'd get a 0. And it's an evening class. So it looks like it's going to be like being violated by your cellmate, just take it, because you'll be out soon. The paper I have to write is 2200 words based on a limited number of sources. So that means I'll have to do what I did last Poli Sci paper ago, go on a quoting spree. I'll spare no paragraphs just to fill up word count limits. Asking for two 10-page papers in a first year course sounds like a insurmountable amount of work to me, even if this is probably the biggest BS course you could ever have. Family Guy last night got it right - people who sit in coffeehouses and type on their laptops (and discuss politics - my addition) look like real idiots. Especially ones who write blogs on politics.

I think I'll stop trying to be anti-politics. We all have agendas, don't we? Some of us are just more ambitious than others, and I go on the low end of that scale. Otherwise I'll turn this into another political blog, and those are boring, and I'd rather not have that anytime EVER here, because those are a dime a dozen on the Internet nowadays.

So, now that I've finished sounding bitter and everything, where does that put me on my other paper? Nowhere. I haven't started. It's due in ... well, maybe 30 hours. But that's not enough time if you subtract sleep, commute, eating, factor in the amount of lazy I can pull off in one day, plus the fact that there's only a slight grade reduction for handing it in late. It's about 5% a day at most. Before the end of the week. I hope. Wow, I wish I got deals that good. I mean, there's no way I can hand it in, or even make sense of it in less of a day. I'll try, I mean it, but I won't make any promises, cause that's not how I roll unless you are extremely attractive. For starters.

So why am I wasting my time writing pointlessness when I could be learning? Gods, it's 3:40AM at this sentence (the day before - yes, I even come back and look over my draft before I let you all read it - commence gasping), and I already finished a paper, I think I deserve a break, even if I did waste Friday and Saturday telling myself to start.


And on that note, I'm tired. Of alot of things.

Excuses

Well, I've done it again.

This week was Reading Week, or as I like to call it, early March Break.

Here's the problem. A whole week off. Let's skip past the plesantries and formalities where I complain about everything I usually complain about, because I think I've repeated myself enough times to not get any point across. Straight to the point - well, there wasn't one, at least not for me. You could say I'm lazy, or too relaxed, or maybe I had a lobotomy just recently. If you can't be damned to remember anything I have to say (something I'm probably better at than you, ha!), let's recap what I have coming into the week of February 26th:

1) Organic chem test on Tuesday
2) Organic chem lab report due, prelab due Thursday
3) History research paper, due mid March
4) PoliSci paper, due mid March (heck, the day after #3)

Okay, now let's make some context. Here's how my Reading Week broke down:

The Friday before - I picked up, maybe, 8 books from Robarts (the biggest Arts library at UofT) to pull as much information out for my history paper that I'd do during Reading Week.
Monday: Didn't get anything done, but I'd like to think I tried. For about 5 minutes, then I told myself I'd start on Tuesday. Still too 'fresh' from the weekend.
Tuesday: Did nothing. Told myself Wednesday would be a good time to start working. Harder.
Wednesday: I totally forgot about doing any work.
Thursday: realized the impending doom if I didn't study, or do any research if I didn't start now. But I didn't do it anyways.
Friday: See Thursday, but multiply impending doom by 8 and put it to the power of your shoe size.
Saturday: Told myself I have to start now. START NOW DAMNIT. I didn't start.
Sunday: As I'm writing this, it's Sunday, 2:50AM, because I had better things to distract me during the day. For about 7 days now. And what am I doing ... writing this entry! Just to prove I'm easily distracted and I just can't be damned to do any work.


Next on the agenda of - well I don't have an agenda; I write this ad lib. Almost always. So what's on my head right now? Oh yes, I remember now.

If you haven't noticed, I finally caved in to pressure (okay, not really, but pretend I did), and I signed up to FaceBook. At the moment, I pretty much have no friends, so it's pretty indicative of how all 19 years of my life have been. So, for anyone who's willing to make me a friend on the basis that I knew you from somewhere, go right ahead. It's all a friend contest anyways, that FaceBook is. It's consoling to know people I knew from high school, I can still find some way of contacting them if I feel like creeping them out. That being said, I just have FaceBook there for the sake of it, at least for now. At least I won't look weird if someone asks me if I have a FaceBook and awkwardly answer 'No'.

Lastly, a strange rant which makes me feel like I understand something. What I did during my Reading Week was spend all Tuesday catching up with The Office (the U.S. one, not the British one). I personally prefer watching TV shows, well, on the TV instead of on my computer, even if I can get episodes after they air with commericals edited out. Or maybe I just need a more comfy seat and a bigger monitor to change my opinion. That being said, catching up with a half-hour show isn't too hard (about 22 minutes each episode). What gets hard is trying to marathon a drama series more than a season which are full-hour episodes (about 45 minutes). Honestly, if I had a month without naggy parents (i.e., all the free time in the world), enough hard drive space, or even enough money to buy the box sets, I would love to catch up (i.e. start from the beginning) and watch Gilmour Girls. Don't ask why or how, but I would really like to if there weren't 6 or 7 seasons to trek through. It just caught me when I watched a few episodes. Don't mistake, I still like my share of door kicking, gunfights and explosions.

Maybe that's why people give me funny looks when I tell them I watch Desperate Housewives. It's not particularily too soap opera-y, and mostly tries to stay in the comedy end, so it does a good job of keeping me hooked.

Lastly, some good news for a show I thought was cancelled, Six Degrees, is coming back on the air starting at the end of March. The reason it took almost a half-year break is because noone seems to want to watch it. It's not like 24 with the explosions, gunfights, or probably anything virtually appealing to most people, but I guess I fit into that strange niche. Anyways, the idea of the show, boiled down, is about six New Yorkers that somehow influence each other every day, either directly or indirectly - based on the theory of six degrees of seperation. Doesn't sound at all interesting, but I encourage you to watch it, it's absolutely delightful (for lack of a better word) to see how things work out amongst the characters. I dunno, maybe I'm just strange, because most of you (out of a maximum of probably 12 people who might actually read this) will scoff at my opinion (not the first time) and continue on. But, it's just relaxing to watch something fairly grounded but with a twist to it. If you have any doubts, J.J. Abrams is part of the production, - if you're a Lost fan (I, myself, gave up halfway into the 2nd season), you would know who that is, and you should show your support by watching Six Degrees when it airs again.

Well, I'm reaching the end of my ad-libbed blogmorgrification you would otherwise identify as a blog entry, and for me, that is where the fun ends and reality takes hold again. Apart from doing this, it seems some like some divine being set my life to the 'totally screwed' setting and is just letting it run. And I wouldn't doubt if it's been like that since day 1. How do I make up for a week of not doing any work? Because unless someone has a time machine, I'm definately screwed.

Loneliness, Valentine's Day, Coincidence?

Well, it's that time of year again. Like every other holiday, people say that, don't they? For about 99% of the people that spend most of their time on the Internet, this is yet another day to show that they're lonely bums. And, obviously, you assume I'm part of that group. Assume all you like. Of course, most of them will dismiss the idea of being lonely on Valentine's Day anyways (yes, that's what we're talking about, if you just tuned in).

Unfortunately, trying to find someone to spend Valentine's Day with isn't as simple as spamming "LFG" in the shout channel until someone says yes. If you actually understood that and you weren't born with a penis (under normal circumstances) and relatively easy on the eyes (I'll be the judge of that myself), be sure to look me up. If you did not get that without looking up LFG on urbandictionary.com (the first definition), then I hate to say it, you're probably out of my league. Not as an insult to your person, but I don't think women can just sit there and listen to what men (I use that term loosely to include those that spend all your time playing World of WarCraft - luckily I don't - take note of that) have to say and try to block us out; I know we can, effortlessly, I might add, but I doubt you would be able to stand us talking about our "uber gear" or about our Blackrock Spire raids went so well and discuss how we should've been "main tank" with our skill build. You'd be bored to death. I would be too. Okay, that's my nerd paragraph done. Good Gods, I thought I'd never be able to finish that.

I actually have much to say about loneliness, or I could just be mistaken and am being misled. Maybe a I should somehow, through my vast knowledge of all things technical-like, keep track of the number of people who bother to waste their time and bandwidth coming here to read what I have to say (i.e. incoherent babbling). Unless the small handful of people who do are busy this time of the year (myself included, though I make myself to appear otherwise), I'm just typing for the sake of either to satiate my insomnia or for the sake of giving myself the illusion of feeling I have any real reason and meaning in the Information Age by doing this, even if I am relegated to the fringes of the Internet in comparison to ... about everyone else.

Or maybe I'm just snappy because noone comments anymore, even though I said I didn't give half of a quarter of a damn if you did or didn't. Well, maybe I care, maybe I don't. But it seems like I proved reverse psychology wrong this time.



Reading Week starts next week, so maybe I'll find more time to say nothing, but in multiple paragraphs as usual. To noone, of course.

Sore throats, bad balancing acts, and general laziness

Look at this! Sore throats, bad balancing acts, and more of my general laziness! Of course that means is that it's another time to laugh at my own expense. Apparently, Fortune only smiles upon me only when I am in pain and/or suffering. And then she bursts out in laughter. But no matter.

Before I start, a matter of paperwork. I'm pretty sure I'm talking to a brick wall (or whatever you can imagine me talking to, a Barbie doll, or Plato's ghost), but if anyone still reads this, from now on, I'm going to update my Personal Message on MSN. If it changes it means I wrote something not worth reading and put it up here for everyone to ignore, but you'll come and read it anyways, right? If you're not on my MSN, well, too bad, it probably means I don't/won't like you, and I generally avoid people (followed by blocking and deleting) who add me and never say a thing. (which is a difficult feat in itself)


Ok, so let's move on.

Saying these words hurt me more than you, literally:
Just last week, I got a sore throat. I think it's mother nature's way of telling to finally shut up. At least until Sunday. What I particularily hate is the beginning. You get this little itch, or this little sharp pain when you swallow, and eventually it gets worse throughout the day. That was just Tuesday. The first full day is the worst, when all you get is this searing, sharp pain in the back of your throat. All you sadists are probably smiling now. The only solution, of course, was to down enough water until all you have is your body passing water with each drink. Or shove a dagger down your throat and twist it to do the scratching. Whichever one works. I'm perfectly fine now (to your chagrin), as it passed by around the same week Friday, but it was quite the long week. And I still have this cough from the sore throat. A meaningless one, but a cough nonetheless.


Not born to be a trapeze artist:
Starting about a week and a half ago, I developped a bout of bad balance. It's as if someone misplaced my centre of gravity or something (you physics geeks could probably better explain it). Or it's just another intervention on whoever prayed hard enough to their gods, but I'm sure they all had their hand in it. On my way home one Friday, as the subway was coming to a halt, and not knowing my predicament, I decided to simply 'ride it out' as the train stopped - that's right, to Hell with holding onto anything! Well, as the train stopped, I flew from one end (which is really from the closest door) to the other end of the train, hitting the wall. Kinda like you see in cartoons. Luckily noone was hurt but me, and I did make a young woman laugh, but then again, you're all laughing too, at my expense. Don't worry, noone asked if I was okay.

Next incident happened on a Wednesday (if only my memory ever worked that well). Getting on the bus - I slipped. Nothing too bad, but gave me a little spook. Next, climbing up onto the elevated part of the bus - slipped, and if you can imagine it, I went flying forward and landed face first on a seat. When it came time to get off the bus on my stop ... you guessed it... I slipped. Of course, after the third one, I promptly yelled "NEW FEET", which, I guess, confused everyone. If anyone had given me a look, I would have continued with "I had feet transplants". Of course this is probably insulting to the actual people who lose their feet and only had prosthetics made, but what's a world without people getting offended? Even people like me need to be on the other side of the insult once in a while. So, lesson is, if you ever hear someone blame their falling on "new feet", it's probably me. Or one of my fans.

Okay, probably me.

Oh, and don't worry, noone asked me if I was okay.


General Laziness leads to more laziness:
To those who don't know what a video card is, it's a piece of computer hardware. But what I'm about to tell you isn't confusing or requires you to know the anatomy of a PC or about how I couldn't get circuit A to circuit B to activate breaker C and etc. Because I tried that. Okay I lied. It's almost been two weeks since this (rather expensive, 200$) "outdated" (as many of you would put it, but I think it still works perfectly fine) piece of hardware decided to die on me. Following this, two weeks of procrastination. Frankly, it's not much of a record, even for me, but this isn't homework, this isn't an assignment that's due in a week, or a project. In fact, I would rather put this hardware to use to do other things on my PC. What have I done in these two weeks? Caught up with most of my work. A travesty! I did not go to university to be as upstanding a student I was as I was in highschool! I need to get off my lazy bum and call tech support sometime. Maybe this week. Tomorrow...nah, the day after that. Ummm, Friday? I can't believe I'm procrastinating on something that would help me better procrasinate at something else.

Just remember to procrastinate.

And I'd like to add, as I am typing (or as you are reading) this line, I've put off posting this for about 4 days now (I'm dead serious here). Also, I'm finally ready to send my aforementioned item back to be fixed/replaced/repaired, except no postal services are open on Sundays. So, Monday. Well, maybe Tuesday, or Wednesday's always a nice day...

... am I doing it again?