When enough is too much

Last midterm tomorrow.

I think I'm going to die a slow and painful death before then. Or at least my memory retention will. I don't think it's physically possible to cram 148 powerpoint slides into my already-too-full brain. There has to be a limit somewhere, and I think I passed it at 121.

The end is in sight... good weekend coming up...

And then only 2 weeks before the "partial test" period starts! Whoohoo!

The savage art of shame

When did selfishness become cute? When did shame become laughable? It was a simple question, and to me, the answer seemed embarrassingly obvious. But I grew to abhor the inevitable response. Would you like to donate $1 to the children's hospital?

And it wasn't even that they simply replied no. Oh... no, not today (because obviously they were planning to come back tomorrow and donate $20). But their reply would then be followed by a coy ducking of the head, a simpering laugh, and an Oh-aren't-I-terrible sideways glance at their partner.

You see, it was far more convenient when they were alone. Then they didn't feel the need to justify their moral degradation with hollow sweetness.

It's the children's hospital. You will pay $10 for a violent video game, $6 for a crappy movie, and harass me because you want the Lindt chocolate bar for $2 instead of $5 (even though you'll end up buying it anyways). And yet you think you can cutely justify your refusal to donate $1 - ONE DOLLAR - to sick kids.

What the hell is wrong with this picture.

I almost made my grand escape

There was an advertisement for Wasa bread at the top of the screen, but when I clicked it, it did not bring me to the coupon as promised. It did not bring me anywhere. It did not bring me here nor there... whoops, sorry, Seuss took over for a second.

What was the point of the advertisement if I will not be getting any free Wasa??

A paper moon affair on the field

It was an appallingly cold day that splintered into an overwhelmingly confused and shock-ridden situation. I sat for four hours in the penetrating cold, painfully forced myself to athletically socialise, heralded a triumphant reunion against all odds...

And against all odds, all I received was a slanting look; a few words spoken out of sympathy and glee; expletive-mingled outrage (that warmed my heart); a defiant, mocking decision; spiraling disaster; and then cold silence.

All I feel is regret that I didn't stick to my half-hearted decision and start again next year. I hate this feeling of guilt and responsibility, even though I have been assured repeatedly that I am in no way responsible. Maybe in the eyes of Technicality I'm not, but tell that to the rest of the girls when they know that any consequences will come as a direct result of my presence on the field. The girls don't fraternise with Technicality - and now I won't be able to fraternise with them.

Bordering on depressive happiness

I was a little parentheses-happy in that last post. Wow.

Second midterm just finished, only two more to go. I love profs who put past quizzes into exams. It makes life just a little more reassuring. I'm telling you: my microbio prof is the french-scientific version of my psych prof from last year. They look the same, sound the same, have the same enthusiastic-bordering-on-manic obsession with student-participation, and do everything possible (although probably unintentionally) to make their exams low-stress. God bless the Morgans/Matthias' of the world (even their names are similar! they really are the same person!)

My manager called me a few days ago and asked if I wanted tonight off from work. A Friday night off from work. It was such a struggle to say yes. In all reality, I don't know what to do with myself. I feel like going absolutely crazy and having a Friday to make up for all the other Fridays of this year so far. For the past two months, I have been in school Monday-Thursday to work Friday and Saturday evening. Every week. That was my life. And now - this evening is looming ahead of me like some great shining Opportunity, and I feel like I owe it to my somewhat-pathetic life of late to get out and do something.

Except, knowing me and my luck for connecting with people, you'll probably find me at home, watching a movie and then tucked into bed at midnight with a book. Oh, I do need to learn to show some restraint (said in my affected English accent that I pull out on occasions).

It's not my birthday, but I'll take the cake anyways

Pretty bad day today! But I'm feeling fairly upbeat. The thing about exams is that no matter how impossible they're hyped up to be, no matter how utterly exhausting and stressful studying is, no matter how many breaking points you reach, and no matter how incompetent you feel writing them, once they're done - they're done. None of this standing around discussing every question, none of this checking the answer key on your way out the door. It's done! Let it go! As soon as I relinquish my paper, I can live in a period of blissful ignorance until it's corrected and returned, and I fully intend to do so.

I skipped my soccer game today. I think I'm in a crisis of torn loyalties and confused identity. Or maybe I was just feeling lazy, but I'd prefer to think the former. We're playing my old college today. We played them last week, but I was working, so (oh-so-unfortunately) I couldn't make it to the game. Today I was on-call for work, and I was almost to the point where I would have preferred to be called in (hah!). But I wasn't. I told my coach I was, and then I hopped on the bus for home. I think if I had been more dedicated to this team from the beginning (ie. actually attended more than one practice) I would feel far more connected to them and playing Prov wouldn't be such an issue. But last year, the soccer team was your first and only priority. Missing practices wasn't an option; showing up less than half-an-hour early to practices wasn't even an option. Our coach used to play university volleyball and liked to show his respect for us as athletes (or something) by assigning us half-hour bouts of sprints every practice. More if he felt we were lacking motivation.

In all reality, it did motivate us, and the level of intensity that was expected on the field went a long way in shaping the attitude of the team. It always does. I think any lingering intensity from last year far outstrips any newborn passion from this year.

Well, finals are this weekend and I'm planning to play (if we're even in). And next year, I'll be one more year removed from Prov with a year of CU loyalty behind me. I'll be a menace on the field then, I'm sure.

When the hidden card is a deuce... or a cunning lady

So. Studied all yesterday (well, after I took an hour and a half nap and ran to Superstore for some necessities and got in the way of my brother's filming project by carelessly eating my lunch at the kitchen table) for an exam that was cancelled 5 minutes before it was supposed to take place. I can sympathize that you're sick, Monsieur. But if you're well enough to make it to school, you're well enough to sit for an hour and do nothing so that we can write our exam! Have I said it before? The respect of students is such a beautiful thing.

Also panicked all yesterday about my ridiculous class situation. First, I fought to drop Rédaction and was told I was too stupid to be taking it in the first place. Then apparently I was too smart to be allowed to drop it. Then they found out I never needed it, but I found out that they make a habit of "screwing students over". So now I have an appointment with the registrat who will probably succeed in confusing me even more. Some phrase about the respect of students is ringing an alarm bell just about now...

Right. Also received a letter yesterday. Didn't add to the soap opera, as Mom so kindly suggested, but did cause my thoughts to fly. Far away. Onto that plane I was talking about before.

Almost forgot - might get fired from work because I changed my availability. Doesn't matter that I do my job well and sell more than most of the managers. No, I dare to go to school in hopes of one day having a career that pays more than minimum wage and doesn't depend on suggestively selling confection combos for self-fulfillment (although those combos are pretty sexy).

Finally, my aunt picked me up ridiculously early this morning (I had just come downstairs! I hadn't even taken a bite out of my toast yet!), but stopped for coffee because we had extra time. Robin's coffee. In other words, stale coffee grounds scooped out of the compost and diluted with river water (I thought I saw a finger floating in there, but it may have just been a piece of soggy doughnut). After all my proud words about never stooping to drinking that filth... I stooped. I'll admit it. Never again.

I sound so petty. I'm really just overwhelmed. I would love for life to be somewhat boring, because then at least I could choose to make it exciting. Instead, my life is just full of busyness, a lot of which I don't particularly care for. Positive thoughts... positive thoughts... I might go live with my sister next week! Merveilleuse. I feel better already.

Paper faces on parade

It was a night out with my dad. That already makes it one thing. But a night out with my dad, getting whipped in the face with the relationship I've worked so hard at not focusing on anymore by another relationship that is questionable at best?

I smiled. I laughed brightly and pushed aside their greedy-sweet questions. I smoothed my skirt and complimented her shoes. And inwardly I stormed past them all, got on a plane, set things straight, and came home to finally focus for the first time all month.

And maybe took another plane ride. While my thoughts are in the air, they might as well be flying high.

Way down the silver road I'll go...

I feel like I've received an official initiation into the world of adults and early-morning rush hour traffic. Note the time? I just arrived at school, therefore standing up my class that started half an hour ago. One bridge girder taken out by a cement truck apparently has the capacity to stop the flow of traffic all over the city. A 20-minute trip downtown to school evolved into an hour of frustration, disbelief, and complete immobility. I'm soon going to become steeped in bitterness, sitting hunched over at the wheel, clutching my wilted styrofoam cup of stale Robin's coffee, pulling at my over-processed hair and lambasting everyone from our municipal government and their useless traffic by-laws to the idiot attempting to turn in front of me.

Wait, what am I thinking? I could never stoop to drinking coffee from Robin's Doughnuts!

In reality, the lateness didn't bother me too much. The thought that this might be a normal morning occurrence did. But apparently that's not the case. I technically could have gone to class, I suppose - I was only 20 minutes late. But when a class is only an hour long, that's justification enough to miss. Besides, my prof is a psychotic who immediately locks the door and pulls the blinds at 8:25 sharp. Anyone coming in late has to subject themselves to pounding on the door for at least 5 minutes before he will let them in. Once inside, he will then hurl obscure questions at them and greedily savour the stammered J'ne sais pas, Monsieur... non, j'ne sais pas... before satisfactorily proclaiming that whatever cannot be answered will be on the exam.

Oh, the respect of students is a beautiful thing.

The city of cold and lights

On Saturday, I walked home from my best friend's house in jeans and a tank-top, and had to immediately change into shorts once I was home because it was so warm out. +28ºC or thereabouts.

On Tuesday, I slogged through a snow-encrusted field in my soccer cleats in an attempt to make it to my game on time, only to arrive at the field and find out it was cancelled due to the snow.

This city is ridiculous.

Snow at this time of the year makes life seem so precarious and unrealistic. Snow laces my every thought with memories of Christmas and the holidays. When these memories hit, I end up drifting through the day in a hazy state, unable to believe that it’s only October and far from my only responsibilities being the Christmas tree to decorate and the lights to admire in the cold, I actually have midterms next week and 3 papers to write that I haven’t started yet. Reality has a way of intruding on these pleasant, snow-born thoughts.

Stupid reality. Why doesn’t it ever take a stress leave, like a normal person?