Saturday, March 24, 2007

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.

Monday, March 12, 2007

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.