Waxing Poetic/Waxing Pathetic

This is my Christmas present to myself, because at least I don't have to fumble around with tape, wrapping paper and a ribbon, only to give up after an hour, wasting half the roll of wrapping paper on failed attempts.  Plus I would have to try to find a box that would fit. I suppose if you fanatically follow this blog (tragedy of the year, right here) you might enjoy it as well.

I spent about 20 minutes figuring out where to file this, whether this should be something I revisit occasionally, but I suppose this may just be a once-in-a-lifetime thing. It isn't exactly easy for me to find inspiration for the topic I wish to address, probably because I don't do much valuable thinking even when I stare contemplatively out a window.

What follows below may be completely true, entirely fiction, or a mix of something in between. What a tease! How you wish to interpret that is up to you, but I have to let you know, I feel extremely relieved this will likely never be analyzed to death (like we all are taught to do in academia) by anyone. Eschewing details is one of my specialties it seems, so another complication for the imaginary reader - am I being vague on purpose, or is it simply that I have absolutely no relation to the material that I can only to paint broad strokes? Well, they do it on GLEE all the time and millions of people watch and enjoy it, so it's not an impossible dream, now is it? Or maybe, for all your psych majors, you could say I have yet to confront these thoughts I have in my head and that I need to pay you hourly to tell you I'm crazy. Sorry, but I already know I'm crazy.

Monday morning's microsleep misadventures, OR, The plot to Inception 2

You might ask "Hey wait, didn't you have a ton of work due last Tuesday?" And the answer was yes. BUT, I thought it was important enough to take a nap between classes before getting some work done. Also, general laziness.

And you know what? It was totally worth it. Because I had such an amazingly weird dream that I just thought I had to share with everyone! (read: noone). And, like any other good crazy person, as soon as I woke up I wrote it down to make sure it didn't get tainted by the passage of time. So what you (read: noone, really) will read in the following paragraphs is a retelling of this pure, raw, unadulterated dream. It was pretty awesome, I must admit.

Roll up your sleeves and show off your tattoo, or I just don't understand people

Maybe it's just me, but my face began to convulse and form an expression resembling confusion as I watched someone leave the subway train, and for no inexplicable reason roll up his sleeves, blatantly showing off the tattoos on his arms. They didn't even look that good. I've seen better graffiti by my old elementary school. It really just seemed like his morning routine was: wake up, brush teeth, draw fake tattoos onto arms with Shaprie. Hey, if you don't believe me, here's a (rough) transcript of the conversation I was having. With myself:

Me to self: Oh man, it's too early, why am I only half awake this morning? I ate breakfast and everything ... say, why is that guy over there rolling up his sleeves?

Self to me: It looks like he's showing off his tattoos. But it's 8 in the morning, what would possess someone to do such a thing?

Me to self: They don't even look real, maybe I should tell him.

Self to me: Are you kidding? That guy is first of all, taller than you, and I'm pretty sure the size of your arms are the the size of his arm bones. Don't get us beat up saying something stupid.

Me to self: Fine.

The Girl with the Saliva-Soaked Wristband

Excuse me while I borrow a clichéd phrase, but it was like watching a train wreck. In slow motion. And the someone rewound the video and then made you watch it again once in slow motion then again at 16x speed. And then they turned on the commentary track and had the director describe how they used real human limbs in the scene. Oh, and then a Russian mobster caves your skull in with a baseball bat.

Did I go overboard again?

And now time for my triumphant return! (Or is it a reboot?)

Okay, so the first question you (in most cases myself, re-reading this) might have is, "What the hell? After so long?" Yes, after my last post in December 2007, I'm back! (Possibly with a vengeance; I haven't decided yet). After much goading from my inner voice (that never shuts up) and also the fact that I have no real outlet to express ... things anywhere else, this was an ideal time for my return. That means it's time to dust off the cupboards (that serve no real purpose, the doors don't even work!) and get back to typing about whatever thoughts that decide to squat in my mind. Unless it was a song I heard on the radio. Because I can google that stuff. I'm not stupid. Enough.

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.