NEW BLOG: Life After Undergrad

Hello all!

This is likely the last post (hopefully?) I'll ever put up on this blog, save for the last post I said would be the last post.  I thought after what felt like ages after first year, I'd put up another blog documenting and chronicling the times I spent as an undergrad student at University of Toronto and now, as a graduate student outside of the U of T.  I thought it'd be nice to show that despite all my grumblings and my misgivings, that there is something beyond the proverbial tunnel that U of T manufactures in your minds.

So please, if you're seeking life after first year; life surviving subsequent years and into the early steps of graduate school go and check out: Survival of The Wittiest.

I wish you all the best in your academic endeavours!


Garlic, love and cheese,
- Suzette

The End and The Beginning

The End;

First year is done. First year is kaput, over, finished. The many questions we held in our noggins ought to be have been answered; the what-now, where's-that, and hows of the the pre-post-secondary lifestyle should no longer be unfathomable. The summer awaits us, as well as a two-month cleansing period. The end is nigh, but so are possibilities to wrap up loose ends. Despite the high probability that we'll forget half of what we gained, we will continue to learn. Learn from our mistakes. Learn from our experiences. We'll take something away. The first test you bombed? You'll learn from it. The first test you aced? You'll gain valuable lessons. The first time you pulled an all-nighter? You'll learn that it's not physically healthy. The first time you got lost on campus? You've learned your routes and paths. All of your firsts are over with, and so your seconds should be better. Much better. Much more refined. The end isn't anything but another beginning. So take it in stride.

The Beginning;

Go ahead. Rid yourself of useless knowledge or unbearable stresses. Go party. Play safe. Live life. Work hard. Earn money. Do whatever pleases you -- but remember when you return, come September, you'll have to start yourself up again. So don't make a fool of yourself. Take this new beginning as a second chance to refine your skills, refurbish your weaknesses and find yourself. That's really all you can do.

Or you don't have to.
But that's your call, isn't it?



Over and out.
Peace and order.
Love, garlic and cheese.



Farewell first year.

What ifs

I've lost all interest in being philosophical, deep and compellingly touchy about UTSG and its inability to cater to the needs of its students. Because... as much as I believe half of what I'm writing, I'm also fighting the little beast in me that actually likes the school. Yes. What? Surprised? You didn't think that ranting and raving could ever be associated with passive-aggressive taste for a large, open-space, academic prison? Wowzers! Well that must have been a blow to the brain.

So, I'm just going to tell it as it is. First year, which has technically ended (but since I'm taking a second year course during the span of it, why not include it), will be written as first year should be. In incomplete, run-on sentences that describe and curtail the indecencies and complacencies of being a student without a real sense of what the future is. Indecision, too much passion for all things/lack of passion thereof, etc. Technically, what being a nineteen year old is all about.

At this stage in life, I'm feeling particularly antsy. I'm feeling unaccomplished. Unfulfilled. Completely devoid of excitement -- so much that I have to resort to the stupidest stunts to get my fill of adrenaline (can we say watching movies you never thought you would, i.e. Spiderwick and The Golden Compass -- both of which were fairly amusing). I'm feeling caught in between. I'm in limbo. I'm between a rock and a hard place. I'm just... here. And that, right now, is the hardest place to be. Here.

What if -- I wonder -- I had chosen a different path. What if I actually took the SATs and took the American-college life as my own? What if I actually went to McGill? What if I actually took the arts program several years ago, worked my ass off and found a way into Julliard? What if I went into the humanities and/or political sciences, as opposed to the life and health sciences? What then? Where would I be? What would I do with myself? Would I be happy? Would I be fine? Would I be... me?

I wonder that every day. I wonder if I would have been happier in a program that facilitated my need for writing, my craving for reading and my yearning for some good ol' fashion learning (I kid on the latter of the three). I wonder if I'm acting the way I am now simply because I've lost a fairly important chunk of my life -- my writing and my art -- by entering a program that does nothing but downplay the right-side (artsy, fartsy, as you would say) of my brain. Writing was my life. I can barely write now; I've lost half of my instinct for it. Art was my soul. I haven't painted a watercolour or acrylic and I haven't touched my palette in a while; my fingers have gone odd.

And then, I wonder why I'm here in the first place. Ah, yes right. To learn. To gather an education revolving around the life sciences -- because at the end of the day, I'm not getting a degree for me. That is the easiest part of going to school: going for yourself. But by the end of your four years, what would you do then? History and life doesn't bode will with people that need and take from life; you have to be willing to give to it, and society for that matter, in order to be a part of both life and history. So why am I in the Life Science program (to-be Evolutionary Biology and Ecology)? To put this knowledge to better use, I guess. At the end of the day, what am I doing and who is it for? Of course, I'm learning for me -- but I'm doing this for the future. You have to think several steps ahead in order to play the game. If life is a play, and we are the actors, you have to know your lines before you walk on stage. These are our lines. The dreams we have are intertwined with the betterment of society, I guess. And I sound pretty cheesy, pretty corny and like a bucket of sap (i.e. sweet and syrupy), but that is what it's all about.

But who's to say that the other route wouldn't have been for society? Who's to say my to-be novels wouldn't have been for the sake of uncovering the inner turmoil of mankind? Who's to say that I wouldn't have gone into politics with a B.A. Major in Poli-Sci and come out as a politician raring to be the vox-box for the people -- the voice of the mute, and the ears of the deaf? Who knows, I say. It all comes down to one question:


What if...?


That will always be the question regardless of age.
It may not be a regret for everyone, but it is a question.
And unanswered questions haunt us for quite a lifetime.




PS: There goes my psychobabble. I've filled my "discover Suzette!" quota for the week.

Considering that summer school counts as first year...

Taking courses you don't want to take -- but need to take -- makes life feel a little less enjoyable. Of course, I'm going to like this course. I'm going to love this course. I will find reasons to enjoy the next six weeks of unending plug-and-chug and see-and-analyze statistics. Of course it will all be fun. Who am I kidding? Not you -- all of you are far too smart.

Oh woe is me and my inability to stick to something for too long. I was halfway through assigned questions before I started downloading stuff, pulling out Mayday Parade's CD and plugging it in and now I'm swaying to it. In due time, I'll be sketching alongside the screening of Pan's Labyrinth.

Fun, fun, fun!

Polygraph, Right Now! (And the almost-end)

Like I said, I'm a big fan of the Aiello siblings. Go youtube them; they're fantastic. How about female pipes on what's normally a dark, morose kind of male-voiced song? Can we say it's absolutely happening? Yes. So go check them out. And if anything, we can replace the "her" and the "she" with "UTSG," right? Good stuff, good stuff.

One more exam. One more. I'm counting the days. The hours. The minutes. The seconds. The moments that have yet to pass before I'm allowed to lay back, not care and just not give a flying fuck about life. Well. For a week or so. Oh, I'm so excited. Now, if you'll excuse me. I've got Ella Enchanted on my agenda and far away dreams to enjoy.

To the PHY138 kids writing their final exam tomorrow -- hang in there. I've no passion for the course, and I say you're all brave and/or masochists for taking that course, but hey. Kudos to you for making it thus far.

See you on the dark side, mes amis.
(Green)Peace out.

"Miserable at Best" and the last exam...

I'm a bit of an acoustic geek and I couldn't help but wind down, tremendously, by youtubing every possible acoustic cover of every possibly ickily romantic and sappy song I've ever actually liked. So, Mayday Parade has an amazing song called "Miserable at Best" and as great as they are, there are 5000 different covers that are fantastic. I wanted to post the Chris and Catie Aiello cover, which was great (female vocals), but Sam DeArmond had a fit version.

Anyways. This is me simply saying that I'm procrastinating and that my last exam never felt so far away (Tuesday the sixth, oh the horrors). But hey. Can you imagine how much geeking I'll be doing afterwards? I'm talking videos. I'm talking about getting reacquainted with my upright piano. I'm talking about saving whales. I'm talking about Lakeshore, ice cream and movies galore. I'm talking about absolute pandemonium.

Oh, I can't wait.
Now, if I could only study...

Global warming, exams, and brain meltdowns.

Besides the fact that there will be a CHM139 exam on Friday May 2nd; besides the fact that I ought to be studying my bloody brains out; besides the fact that I'm incredibly tired and sick and I can't taste my food -- I managed to go on YouTube and decided to spread the message. I don't know why, but I felt like it. To top things all off, now don't tell the folks about this, I'm thinking of joining Greenpeace. What would they say? They'd probably shake their heads at me and lock me up forever, but hey. Right now. I'm feeling pretty edgy, pretty optimistic and in nearly-there-2-exams-left summer mode. Oh curse U of T and their ultra-late schedules. Had this NOT been the case, I wonder what I'd be thinking/doing right now. Probably something more productive. Yipes, I'm rambling. Again. For the fiftieth time this morning. First with the lack of milk and my coffee issues, and now with... Well. Whatever I was rambling about.

Go study.
"Ay, ay, captain!"

I can't hear you.
"AY, AY! Captain!"

(Oh ix-nay on the Ongebob-Say.)

It's: day 2 of being legal AND Earth Day -- and I'm inside.

"Whenever you find that you are on the side of the majority, it is time to reform."
-- Mark Twain

So. The final BIO150 exam occurs tomorrow, at 14:00 hours and lasts for an approximation of 2.25 hours. Realize that that's a decimal and not a colon, thus a quarter of an hour is equivalent to? Yes. Fifteen minutes. I'm also in math-is-the-death-of-me mode, and in saying such, I am implying that I'm avoiding the review of what is more necessary (at this very moment): BIOLOGY.

What is a taxon? I thought I knew. Now I don't. Considering that I'm planning to major in the Evolutionary Biology area, it's pretty sad that I know none of their terms in any depth. What does that say about my attention span? It's quite limited. Now. I've been introduced to the idea of procrastination, but I think I'll lay off the idiocies for a bit and read a bit more. Then I'll do a bit of crazy American Idol Youtube-ing. I don't watch it live simply because it's a waste of effort and I hate commercial breaks, so I just watch segments. Go David Cook go! Haha.

Back to non-procrastinating procrastination.

Oh. And Happy Earth Day!
Plant a tree... If you can spare study time.
Oh, so sad.


PS: I bought Burt's Bees. Took a really long time to find in Fortinos. I didn't realize it'd be under Organic Foods and Products. Hmm. For anyone who knows the true taste of honey (like the non-Billy Bee brands you find at farms), that's what it tastes like. It feels fantastic as well. It's my non-Soft Lips supplement, which I've run out of... again. For the third time in the last 6 months. I wonder what that says about my lip surface area. Hmm.

And so the exam weeks begin.

There is no quote to describe the madness that will pervade our minds in the weeks to come. For those with absolutely fantastic time management skills -- you probably won't feel extremely hung-over by the end of these three, long, dastardly weeks, but you'll wish you were high. Ok. No. That's stretching wishes by a bit. You'll probably collapse onto a couch and just... expire.

Can I just point out that exam week starts with... dun, dun, dun, dun...

My birthday?