Oohh-oh

Just to get the complaining out of the way early... why the heck can't there be a bus between 7 and 7:30, hm? It just doesn't make any sense... there is no reason that I have to get to campus fifteen minutes before my problem session even starts. Such a tremendous waste of time. I mean, I've already sat around and wasted two hours today at BJ between Bio and Drama... I suppose I could've gone to the library and worked on my calc, but that's no fun. What I really need to do is to figure out how to lug my computer with me, and still be able to carry my track clothes, and my books for Bio, Drama, and Calc. That would be the ideal setup for Wednesdays... I suppose with a bit more effort I could figure it out... I imagine I'd be happy sitting around in Harper for a bit between classes, rather than being bored at the dining hall, or wasting half an hour or more coming back here.

So... I guess today hasn't been a bad day at all.. even though I don't really like Wednesdays because it means I have to waste so much time randomly. I suppose I just could skip my problem session, and ask someone else for help if I need it... but the problem session means all the answers to the hard problems, for the small effort it takes to go. It was much easier last quarter though, when it was at 5. I wish we could still have it at five, which would make the second half of my day super-compact and I'd be happy. I'd go straight from drama to track, and straight from track to calc, and from calc to dinner and back to the dorm. And I'd be a happy person. Well, happier. As far as other things go, I've finally got my approach right in the high jump... it's only taken me like.. five years. Woo! Now all I need to worry about is getting everything together properly, and I can offically tell myself that I'm less of a klutz that I think I am!

QuickTime's features that prevent me from capturing this one picture from my Bio lab today are terribly frustrating. And useless. I'd hate to have to reacreate the image myself! It's just so... bizarre. It would've made the perfect icon. Darn quicktime. Well, I'd best be off to my problem session... even though I haven't really looked at the problems at all. It would probably be a good idea to bring paper with me, though.

Errr....

So... remember that bus problem? Yeah... that one. There is no combination of keystrokes that would convey my frustration at this point, but from now on I feel it is safe to blame my sub-potential performance in calculus on the poorly thought-out bus schedules here. Definitely. And now that I've had my computer branded by the police, I don't have to worry so much about it being wantonly (as opposed to wontonly) stolen by evil people here. They seem to have a thing for French computers, but you can never be too safe. However, this greatly increases me need for more stickers on the back of my computer, because that poor little sticker of me that sketchy made is looking crowded by menacing police warnings. This seems like a completely unrelated tangent right here, but my point is now I can more safely lug my computer with me everywhere on Wednesdays, solving this evil bus problem. Not that sitting around on campus from 10 to 8 or so is a ton of fun, but it's better than running around uselessly and then missing buses to things you should really go to. Like mandtory ice cream socials and calculus problem sessions and... well, classes. At least at this point in the year Calculus isn't all that hard. It's all review from last year, of things I at least basically understood. And I haven't seen a proof for awhile, which makes me happy. I'm not sure what I'm doing next quarter, though... I suppose I should at least give it a bit more thought before I go see my adviser, though. I've got to remember to make an appointment for that, too. Hopefully not too soon, so I don't end up trying out my "What concentration would you recommend to someone that wants to become a priave eye, CIA agent, super hero, astronaut, or pirate?" plans. I don't think my adviser has the proper sense of humour to appreciate it. In fact, I can just see the bizarre look she'd give me, and wihle that would be rewarding on some level, I know deep in her mind she'd be thinking of having me committed, or put on suicide watch, or something silly like that.

Wow... was that all one paragraph? Ah well. So, since I'm bored and I don't feel like starting my calc quite yet, I think I'll make a list that I talked to llamaninja about... the evil list of bizarre conversations/arguments that I have been a part of or overheard here. This is a distant relative to some other list that she keeps hinting at, that apparently sketchy is at the top of... It confuses me, so naturally I must imitate it. This is in no particular order, of course... except the order that I happen to think of them. Maybe I'll take the time to explain them later:

-The Fortune Cookie/Always Intend the Pun Argument
-The Lemon Bar Argument
-The Number Next to Zero Argument
-The Gayest Pants Conversation
-The Dylan vs. Beethoven Possibility of Comparison Argument
-The Mouse-Scented Cheese Nips Conversation
-The Marx's "Opiate of the Masses" Argument (Well, mostly the conclusion)
-The "Which X-Men's Power Would You Have?" Conversation (and how the "having every power" mutant was cheating)

Really, there have been far too many rediculous arguments for me to remember them all. I wish I could, though. These are just the more recent ones... though there are one or two that will probably just never be forgotten. The arguments are so much more fun when they're not completely political, either. But, like the lemon bar argument I had tonight... shouldn't be completely rediculous, either. I mean... how can you argue with someone over the name of a dessert?? It's not like I named it or anything. He only came over to cough on me, too. Let's hope I don't end up with his cold, or else the floor will start suspecting things that they suspected back in third or fourth week or whenever this whole shenanigan started. Bah!

I sure do have a thing for "stream of consciousness" writing, don't I? This has got to be impossible to follow for anyone but me. I'm sorry, random people reading this. Maybe I should make an effort to write more coherant things. Actually, I just want to write more. Because it's fun. I'm tempted yet again to start a story, but I know at this point anything I write is going to be some sort of bizarre pseudo fanfiction starring bizarre variations of characters from books and video games along with people from my floor. Plus stock characters (like the classic stock character "cigar wench" from Drama today). I've changed my mind, by the way... drama is fun. Sometimes too bizarrely fun to be UofC. Like this "creating a scene" excercise we did Monday, where I ended up being volunteered to enter the scene after the space had been established. It was a bedroom, so I decided I'd be sneaking in late, not regarding exactly who I was... I think I originally intended myself to be some sort of boyfriend/husband, but obviously that would be lost on any audience, considering my gender, so through the other things I ended up being the annoying roomie. The alarm went off while I was trying to sleep, so I pulled it out of the wall (I think this was also lost on most of the audience). And then I put on my roomie's pants, so she got mad at me and put on my clothes... so I put on more of her clothes, and she put on more of mine, and by this point I was dressed so I flushed her underwear down the toilet, so she threw my clothes out the window, so I grabbed my lighter out of my drawer and tried to set her clothes on fire. At this point, a random drunken character stumbled into the room (methinks my clothes had been thrown onto him), and passed out on our floor. So we dragged him into our bed, but he kicked and then got up and threw up on the floor, so my roomie stalked out, and I tried to call the police, and since by this point the scene had been running obscenely long, the prof called out "Just find a way to end it!" so I pulled a gun from the dresser and chased the guy out. The class said "it was like a scene from Pulp Fiction... very little plot, and lots of violence." I'll take that as a compliment on my pantomime. And honest to goodness, I was not at fault for most of the violence... well... actually I imagine I was. Darnit, all my improv ends up so violent. But at least this time it was more fun than purely malacious. I ended up laughing through a fair amount of it. Which wasn't very professional of me, but hey, what do you expect? Hehehe.

You know, I am really going nowhere fast with this entry, so maybe I should just shut up and go do my homework. Which will undoubtedly take me a good while tonight. Probably until 11 or so, if I work on it nonstop. Dear goodness I wish I was motivated enough to finish it properly.

Last night...

Errr... so obviously I'm updating again, rather than doing my work. I don't see how this is a problem to anyone but me, however. Unless we consider "spamming the friends pages" a real threat to anything... I just feel the need to write down this weird dream I had last night. Or really, more this morning than last night. I tried to explain it at lunch today, but it didn't quite work out. I can see a lot of it clearly, but it doesn't work as well in words, especially when I have to censor bits because I'm at the lunch table and I don't want people thinking I'm any more insane than they already do. And it's hard when someone from New Mexico keeps interrupting you with things like "I met Anna Kournakova once, she really is hot" and "I know a guy that screwed one of Bush's daughters... in Nova Scotia." Hopefully after a day of contemplating it, I can write it down properly... (Behind an LJ cut, so you can ignore most of this entry if you want).

( That darn dream... )

( Random conversation! For my entertainment more than yours! )

Well, I think that about does it for useless entries for tonight. At least until after I finish some of my math homework, and figure out if I have to write another response paper for Hum tomorrow. It was 35 when I was coming back from dinner today. Thirty-five! And it felt soo warm! That is not a good sign, ya know? It felt like, sixty-ish. Eep. I fear I've become too adjusted to the cold, and may ne'er recover, doomed to suffer in the summers forever!