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?

Update, pre-study week.

"The best way to predict the future is to invent it."

-- Alan Kay

Cleaned the closet.

Dumped the shoes into the closet.

And my progress ends there. Geeze. Can we say intolerable amounts of work yet to be done? Yes. Can we say procrastination in the form of thinking of things other than exams? Yes. Can we say being collectively creative and coming up with shirt/sweater/stuff design? Heck ya.

I'll get back to the real world when I'm insane.

POSts, Exams and Profanity -- oh my!

"All the world's a stage and most of us are desperately unrehearsed."
-- Sean O'Casey

As of 11:50PM (yes, this means April 9th 2008), I have been a part of the Evo-bio POSt program -- Ecology and Evolutionary Biology. Of course, this wasn't the plan. The plan was to hold off the application until the entirety of my "known POSts" were chosen. Of course, it is nighttime and I have every right to go bonkers right now... so I just tried it out. And huzzah. That's curiosity for you.

And now I'm going to try my hand at chemistry. Or environmental chemistry.

I think I've gone mad with... admission lust. Hmm.

How Not To Get Sleep

[On the topic of Sleeping]
S: You have a test tomorrow, why don't you sleep?
E: I'll sleep later. If I sleep now, I'll sleep at one.
S: And if you sleep at twelve... you'll sleep at twelve?
E: Yeah--I don't know.

Sleeping Tips From The World's Weirdest Insomniac

Don't:
"I get more work done if I don't sleep at all."

Wrong-o. Lack of sleep leads to crankiness, disorientation and so much more. Take this from someone who has personally experienced disorient. When Professor Aaron Wheeler let out the morning CHM139 class ten minutes too early on a Tuesday, I thought it was a Friday. You can't imagine how the rest of the day felt to me. Anyways. Trust me on this one; if you get enough sleep, if you manage your time well enough -- you'll feel perfectly fine. Time management is key, to be honest, and there's no other way to put it. Excess sleep here makes you groggy; lack of sleep there makes you irritable and confused.


Do:
"Clear your mind of everything possible. Temporarily."

On a personal level, thinking of chemistry or math (the usual side-effect of finishing homework, a test, or an assignment) will have you in super-thinking mode when you're fast asleep and in a comatose like state. If I do recall, the number pi popped into my dreams a couple of times and several reactions followed me in my semi-nightmare. It's not pleasant. If you go to sleep restless and full of 'work', you won't get any sleep done. So do think of puppies, flowers and bluebells -- or other. Just completely wipe your mind of what you've learned for the day (temporarily only!) and zonk out. That's the best way to do it. Sometimes ignorance is bliss. Sometimes.


So yeah. Don't take my word for it.
You can try to Redbull a night away and see how you are the next day...
Or you can pick up the pace the next day and get some well-earned sleep.
Your choice. Your life. You choose, I guess.

How Not To Write A Report

[On reading assigned articles and writing the Ethics Report]
R: ...I can't write.
S: ...I can't read.
R: We're so sad.
S: We're illiterate!

Writing Tips From The World's Biggest Procrastinator

Don't:
"Kamikaze!!!"

Use the word kamikaze, or later, too much. You'll end up pushing everything to the farthest corners of the earth, watch five million Disney movies (and/or Disney-Pixar) and deny that you ever had work to do in the first place. The key to success is knowing when to kamikaze -- and that is usually, if not normally, five minutes after a test or an assignment is due. Save your kamikazes. Save your madness. Save your spewing, rabid behaviour for after major assignments. The word "kamikaze" has a tendency to skew the remainder of what your report, or the whole of it, depending on how you look at it. If you decide that you're in writing mode -- do it. Just don't kamikaze. It's not recommendable. At all.

Do:
"Pretend I'm fascinated with the subject matter and keep working."

A little acting never hurt anyone, really. If you pretend that you like something enough, eventually you'll believe in your lie, pick up the pace, tighten that belt and get a crack-a-lacking. Sometimes all you really need is the belief in an assignment. Conviction is key to actually getting things done. You can bribe yourself with five-minute sugar-highs (i.e. sour keys and jujubes), or you can opt to do something incredibly amusing afterwards (i.e. have a Alfred Hitchcock movie marathon)... So long as you get something done. Sometimes it's hard to get work done, so making it a stipulation doesn't make your case any better. It just makes it worse. If you're convinced that you really want to get this done and in the process, you want to learn something and develop your bullshit skills -- write that report with the utmost conviction. You are a superstar. You are a journalist. Now get to it.


But hey, don't take my word for it.
If making work a chore and kamikaze-ing your life away works for you... Do it.
I just don't think it's optimist-friendly, not in this universe at least.

Studying Tips From The World's Worst Student

"Sweetness, sweetness never suited me."
-- Stars (Midnight Coward, In Our Bedroom After The War)

Studying Tips From The World's Worst Student

Don't:
"Drink coffee in sporadic, copious amounts."

The last time I did this, I think my heart went into overdrive. My nerves were beyond repair and I was, not bouncing off the walls but, in this living-dreaming state. I'm going to compare it to high-like feelings and something on the lines of bungee-jumping, without the cord. For one thing, you're super-focused, but for another, you're completely bonkers. Studying credit. Health demerits. Equates to nothing at all, really.

Do:
"Watch movies, take a break, take a breather here in there."

I believe this is best called procrastination for studious students, but for the semi-studious or the not-so-studious, this is a regular. Do something for yourself; being cooped up in your room really needs to nothing but hysteria. A bit of reality is needed, and yes, that reality lies in something completely bogus, like Harry Potter. Get out of your 'work world' and slip into another one for a moment. It doesn't hurt to rest. Mental state regained. Fun in life restored. Major plus, really.


But hey. Don't take my word for it.
If studying like a beast hooked on caffeine works wonders for you -- do it.
I just don't think it's healthy, in the long run, that is.

BIO150: Term Test 3 and 3 cups of coffee.

"Uh, let’s get back to the test please.
What mathy stuff do I need to know?"
-- Prof James Thomson (Study Guide)

I think after the term test, I'll be posting something like "How To" or "How Not To" -- it'll be fun for me and a great way to alleviate stresses caused by the BIO150 test (tomorrow) forget about the miserable CHM139 test (I don't know how many of you checked your marks, but wow; that was probably the worst or best move -- depending on your mark). I haven't checked mine yet and I plan to keep it that way. Why do that to yourself before two major and upcoming tests? Be logical, folks.

I think the first of my "Hows" will be "How Not To Study," which I'm so good at doing. The bad-method of studying, I mean (which can sometimes be nonexistent, which is also very terrible). But for tonight, I think a good 3-cups of coffee (in spaced intervals -- not like what I did the last time, which was 2 huge mugs in 1 hour, which was a tremendously terrible decision) will suffice.

Till 2:00AM then!
Huzzah.

Reading Week: It's zooming by me.

"I've been cautious with the words I extend.
Allow this year before the world starts to end."
-- Coheed and Cambria
(The Light & The Glass, In Keeping Secrets of the Silent Earth: 3)

The week is going by unbelievably, incredibly quickly. I've a shitload to still do and mind my profanities, but that's really the only way (the best way) to describe everything. I still have a bajillion little itty bitty things to do, and I'm avoiding calculus like the plague. I hardly understand what I'm doing right now, but I suppose this is what you call procrastination.

Go listen to Coheed & Cambria on MySpace. I don't know if anyone's into that type of music, what with the lead singer nearing a half-baked falsetto, but they're fantastic musicians. If you get the chance to, go listen to "The Light & The Glass" and "The Crowing" and "A Favour House Atlantic". I've been listening to these guys since ninth grade. Or earlier, I think. My memory fails me.

Ah, back to the demon, better known as re-listening to BIO150 lectures I paid no heed to.

Le jour d'amour: CHM139 test, anyone? With sugar?

“The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you,
not knowing how blind that was.
Lovers don't finally meet somewhere.
They're in each other all along.”
-- Jalal ad-Din Rumi

I ♥ U of T.

And I'm really thinking I don't. But I do. It's a really difficult kind of love, the type you work hard for, the type you slave over and try to fix. It's a give-take, love-hate kind of relationship. The type you have with your annoying older/younger sibling. But I suppose, in the end, I don't regret coming to this congregation of the smartest, grayest, dullest, harshest minds alive. It's the full package you get: hard tests, big campus, crazy days, and the like.

So what about that chem test, huh? How's that sounding right about now? Pretty snazzy. I'm kidding. I'm being so sarcastic right now it's killing me. And I know I wanted to post something tonight -- as opposed to this lame post -- but in the spirit of being a miserly, singular, un-betrothed organism amidst a mass of possible couplets, I refuse. I'm going to wallow in coffee, Ann Brashares, and the friends I so love.

If anyone's reading. If anyone's out there...
You know, in the vast world of study-dom...
I say you put a heart on your test.
I plan to. Spread the love? Ha.

GPA: Are you willing to work for it?

"The big secret in life is that there is no big secret.
Whatever your goal, you can get there if you're willing to work."
-- Oprah Winfrey

Touchy subject, much? Yeah. I know. It's terrible to bring this topic up, but as you approach the midterm of a second term, of a deathly term, of first year -- you have to wonder and worry if you did enough, if you did well, if you did so and so. So yes. GPA matters. The wellness of such an acronym comes naturally to some, comes with work for others, and sometimes, it just feels like it will never come. Don't lose faith. I certainly can't/won't/shouldn't. If I was that easy to push around, I'm pretty sure I would have given up long time ago and just gone straight in another direction.

GPA. Are you willing to work for it? I know a lot of people say they're working hard for a decent, or a better one, and I'm not going to doubt you. Each person has their personal threshold of work ethic and so forth, but I'm pretty sure perfection is possible. I'm pretty sure a 4.0 is possible. I'm pretty sure that a 2.7 can go to a 4.0, if you try hard enough. Key word is try. How often do we do that? We whine. We complain. We nitpick at all the bad points in the course -- yet instead of making peace with our downfalls and learning from them, we wage verbal and mental wars. Our only enemy in this, is ourself. We are the only impediment to our success.

So yes. I am willing to work for it.

I paid a good effin' sum to come here, to this U of T menagerie of minds...
And so I think I milk it for what it's worth and get my well-deserved mark.

Peace out? Perhaps.

Snow: Makes The World Go--Pause.

"A hundred bodies fill this room.
And all their faces overdone.
Pain is foreign, foreign to us."
-- Meg&Dia (Something Real CD)

So besides the onslaught of massive amounts of flaky, dainty white snowflakes, the stoppage of classes, the usefulness of the U of T Snowline and the missing of certain tutorials... a lot has happened that the snow will never hinder. For example -- the upcoming death-threat. The funeral toll. The chemistry golem. The CHM139 Midterm. It's all on its way. And yes, all this exciting hubbub takes place on -- you guessed it, folks! -- February 14th, the day all single people dread. Well. Now, all U of T freshmen in the Life Sciences can despise the couples-only day even more. Tres chique, n'est pas?

It's even sadder to know that all the greatest pre-Spring movies are coming out on/about this time. Jumper, being one of them, will be sorely missed and its viewing will be pushed into early-Reading Week. Which reminds me -- post-CHM139 midterm -- of how much there is to do. Both physically exhausting and mentally exhausting. Yes, this involves an overhaul on my working habits (i.e. a start on BIO150 papers and other undulating essays) and the crazy, badass supah-fly bouncing-off-the-walls kind of fun (i.e. having casual lunch dates with friends long lost in the midst of anal retentiveness and vile assignments).

So hang in there. Study hard.
Know that knowledge is power.
Power corrupts. Corruption is evil.
Be evil. For the midterm, anyway.

See you on the dark-side, muchachos.

Super Tuesday, early morning Wednesday

"The challenge is to practice politics as the art of making
what appears to be impossible, possible."
-- Hillary Clinton

Hillary's quote. Barack's face.
Am I sending mixed messages? You tell me.
Close Call: Super Tuesday.

I'm not American, so I wouldn't have any idea as to how the voting system really works, but I suppose I should be worried/concerned about the processes of American government. Let me be truthful, let me be honest, let me be stupid -- I had no clue that Super Tuesday was the actual term for this. I didn't even know what was going on. But hey, you have to admit that "Super Tuesday" is the kind of term you use for a Tuesday-fast food meal OR some children's-flavour of ice cream.

Anyways. It's not Tuesday anymore. I've been outside of politics since I dropped POL108, so right now, I'm getting my year's worth of hardcore quasi-international politics. It's early Wednesday and I'm still watching CNN -- it's exciting, I suppose. I like dissecting political strategies with my father, watching my mother fume at certain analyses, and wondering whether or not platform really matters in any of this. If I'm allowed my humble assumptions, I'd like to say that politics is a very good telenovella-gameshow. If you have the right charisma, the right performance, you win. Platform, I believe, is essential, but cannot be more than passionate or empty promises.

Enough of my politicking. I do that enough (that's partially why I stop reading and watching the news; I become a little too argumentative and that boils my mother's blood and raises my father's blood pressure). You can do your politicking -- go watch CNN for the updates.

I won't say who I'm for.
Maybe it's obvious. Maybe it's not.
I'll give you a hint: I'm no Republican.

Upsets in all forms.

"What is defeat? Nothing but education;
nothing but the first step to something better."
-- Wendell Phillips

I didn't watch the Super Bowl this year, but I've heard of the upset -- "Giants Stun Patriots in Super Bowl," or so goes the title. I'm not big on football, but I can relate to the feeling of defeat in many other sports -- hockey, soccer, you name it. I suppose people feel this form of unrelenting upset because there's so much feeling put into watching the game. A lot of empathy is inserted into big-time events, such as this. People even end up feeling utterly devastated after one of these upsets. I can relate. You place a lot of hope in stuff like this -- take, for instance, my little wager on the WJC 2008 championships. I put my entire outlook on this term, my little ounce of hope, on the outcome of the final game.

Sometimes insignificant little things mean a great deal of significance.

And all one can do is learn from these upsets, I guess. There's really nothing you can do. Time won't turn back its hands and rearrange fate. But time can teach a lot of things, post-defeat. So sleep on things that seem hopeless, and wake refreshed and renewed.

Hope, in effect, is found in hopelessness.

Surviving A Crappy Semester 101, Tips 1-5

"Fools rush in where angels fear to tread."

-- Alexander Pope

It has come to my attention that this term/semester has had absolutely no increase in its value. Rather than surpassing the expectations of the previous semester, a pretty bleak yet enlightening one, it has plummeted further downward. Interestingly enough, I've come up with several idiot-proof rules for surviving the rest of this godforsaken, effin' forlorn semester. (Yes, this includes labs, a particular course and other particularities.)

Surviving A Crappy Semester 101, or
Surviving Another Semester for Dummies

Of course, this would be the unpublished, unverified guide, but it's mine. I was supposed to write a bunch of other 101s, but this one seems to be of the utmost importance. If I don't write the excerpt now, I'm pretty sure I'll falter and go nuts. By the end of this term, I'll either be, a) insane or, b) incoherent. One way or the other, I know I'll lose out. Positive is the key. Positive is the plan.

So. Here are my little tips. My little thought-bubbles.

(1) Smile and Nod. So you don't understand what the hell's going on. Smile and nod for the time being; avoid any unnecessary commentary or rudeness from inappropriate sources (the type that irk you and make you want to knock heads). Once the madness is over, shuffle over to whoever seems most helpful (let's start with friends, move our way up to smart acquaintances and then to TAs and then professors). When things seem bleak, just smile. Frowning wastes energy. Smiling, on the other hand, ensures that you look good and seem well. It's always good to psyche out those who are willing to psyche you out too. (Pessimistic, I know, but give it a try.)

(2) "You have no relevance in my life, therefore, you will not bother me." It's a good motto to go by when you have irksome people in classes, labs or the like. There's really no point in fretting over tiny details about insignificant people, whom you will never ever have the heart to have lunch with. Should that ever happen in the near future, and you discuss politics alongside a slice of vegetarian pizza, then that's just a plain bonus. It'll be something to laugh back at. So, if the dude with the obnoxious brainwaves sits next to you and jabbers on about his mind-boggling intelligence, just think that very line. Eventually, he'll get the message and vanish from your danger-radar.

(3) You think you can? You know you can. Do the chugga-chugga method and be a train; pull yourself up the mountain. Of course everyone has their setbacks and it's natural that you'll fall into a rut here and there, but did that noble train stop? No. He said that he would and he did. "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can..." That's all that matters.

(4) Love and it shall love you in return. Personally, I hate CHM139 and its labs, but I'll do my best to love it anyway. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, yes? So keep this lab close to your dear heart and eventually, you'll see that it'll feign that same love and you'll find some benefits in the mutuality of your relationship. Love it. Love it. Love it. That's all I can say.

(5) Laugh at yourself. There's no point in mumbling, fussing or bitching about your flaws. I think it's better if you and the rest of the world can laugh at it; eventually, those Venus-sized mental pimples will shrink down to a livable dirt-clod size. When you laugh at yourself, you lose one of your worst enemies -- yourself. Why battle yourself and slave over your mistakes with a pining sense of indignation when the rest of that course is already slamming you in the face? The less you have opposing you, the better your chances of pulling through.


And that's 1-5 for you. And GOD, I hope I follow through.

Peace out, until the next post.

Pasta putanesca. Sort of.

"Homer: Kids, you tried your best and you failed miserably.
The lesson is, never try."
-- Homer Simpson (The Simpsons)

This will be a short, unloved, uncared for post. Why? Because I dictate it so. I actually have nothing in particular to complain about, maybe except for a lot of nonsensical things (i.e. what happened to all my good TV? why is this writers strike still up and running?). I'm looking forward to the Oscars (February 24th, a day before week of death). I'm also looking forward to Jumper (February 15th, a day after the first CHM139 test -- also known as the first lash). I'm crossing my fingers for Paramore, who've been nominated for a Grammy (February 10th).

As for everything else? No. I'm not looking forward to anything school-related. If anyone has anything interesting, anything slightly enlightening -- please. Drop me a line. Right now, my mood is as grey and as turbulent as the weather. As unpredictable and as foggy as the skies.

I think I'll watch a movie.


PS: To anyone who likes watching movies and hasn't yet figured out the wonderful UTSU offers, let me reiterate -- $8 movie passes to Famous Players, Cineplex, etc are being sold at the UTSU office. The limit is 10 passes a week. Go stock up? Or, if you don't like that method, go buy a Scene Card. I finally got mine in the mail. Score.

Back to the books and all that jazz.

"My work is a game, very serious game."
-- M.C. Escher

I took a two-hour nap, right after watching the first hour of Jason and the Argonauts (a movie from the 1960s, go check it out on TMC). After a little lecture, thanks pops, on how movies from those days were superior to the movies of these days, and after agreeing half-heartedly, I kind of crashed on the couch and woke up pre-eight-in-the-PM. Then, I did what no to-be-19-year-old does (anymore, or admits to doing anyway): I watched Minutemen on Family Channel (with Nicholas Braun, oh how broodingly dorkily handsome, and Jason Doolie). I think I've done my share of dork-induced movie watching. Now... I'm forcing myself to do work.

Procrastination, by far, is my worst enemy. I'm glad I'm not the only one fighting it; it'd be a very one-sided battle, what with me giving up and the books slamming me with some post-failure jargon. Yeah. That's not to say I've got a split personality -- no, I mean people motivate you to work. I mean, most of the time. Right? I'll stop now. I'm rambling. Rambunctious. Razzle-tazzed.

Get to work. If you haven't done any all week.
Get some rest. If you haven't done so yet.
See you on the dark side... of calculus, chemistry and all that jazz.

Dear Anal-Retentive People...

"The only thing that sustains one through life
is the consciousness of the immense inferiority of everybody else,
and this is a feeling that I have always cultivated."
-- Oscar Wilde

Dear Nameless Freshmen (you know who you are),

I have absolutely no problem with you being intelligent or surprisingly talented. I don't feel envy, I don't feel jealousy. I'm not green, blue, yellow or any colour for that matter -- I'm completely astounded by people who show great giftedness. It's something you stand in awe of, not mock. But, I do have a little pet peeve: when you rub in your intelligence, or remind others of how inferior they may seem/be/sound, you become an official asshole.

Ass-effin-holes. Scusi ragazzi. Excusé-moi. Pardon my profanities.

My mannerisms are mine; if I forget, for some odd reason, what something might be, what some elementary term could possibly mean -- inform me. Don't preach to me. I've already accepted some religion as my faith, so I don't need/want to be converted. I don't need a fire-breathing reverend-ess whipping me into shape with catty little gestures, eye-rolls or uncalled-for commentary. You can all just go eat yourself. And that's the truth.

Being modest is a sin. Don't tell me you're stupid, if you're not.
Being humble is a virtue. Tell me that you know stuff; don't shoot me for being temporarily idiotic.

Otherwise. Go smarten up. Eat yourself.
Figure something out. Stop brown-nosing.
You only lose dignity in the process of it.


Love, garlic and cheese,
- Me.

Finding peace of mind with a few movies.

"For most of history, Anonymous was a woman."
-- Virginia Woolf

For any who believe that watching movies, instead of doing well-deserved notes, is a waste of time, I beg to differ. Watching movies has this acute way of healing your broken, fried, dried and mushed mind. It helps gather the pieces, re-frame them and voila! You've recomposed your once messy self, and have settled from your volatile disposition. Trust me. Movies, now and then, are necessary for both enjoyment of the heart and peace of mind.

I've watched my share in the past week. I think I've watched more movies than I've ever done in a summer (then again, I'm usually reading sci-fi or classic fiction or doing something vaguely stupid, like hiking in recluse parts of the park/woodsy areas). They've definitely helped in reshaping and moulding my mind. Once a cynic, now a poet. That's how I see it.

Here's a list of what I'm recommending:
Persuasion, Juno, Mansfield Park, The Jane Austen Book Club, Atonement, Ratatouille, Bridget Jones' Diary: The Edge of Reason, Harry Potter 5: Order of the Phoenix, The Butterfly Effect, 27 Dresses, Driving Lessons, Ocean's Eleven to Thirteen, 13 Going on 30, Perfume (warning: very disturbing) and perhaps Ella Enchanted.

So see some movies before the tests kick in, or at least see a movie when you've finished one. I'm sure it'll ease your discomforts and remind you that there is life beyond four sides to a paper. I'm not saying to slack off and settle for less than you're capable of, I'm just anointing this factoid of relaxation. It's crucial to performance. Every now and then, a car needs a tune-up, right? That doesn't mean it goes straight for a fifty-mile road trip run -- no, it goes to the mechanic and lets itself loose.

You should try it sometime.
It really does help.

In a rut, I guess?

"Winter is on my head, but eternal spring is in my heart."
-- Victor Hugo

I don't think I've ever been this bothered by the winter term; I don't hate it. I can't love it. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place -- or so goes the old adage. I can't figure, for the life of me, whether or not I should keep on trucking (in vain, vague hopes), or if I should kind of slow down a bit, before I spiral out of control. It doesn't help that this term is filled with courses (or the halves of courses) that are meaningless to me (ok, so not meaningless, but most definitely irregular).

I'm looking forward to the end of this so-called madness, thus I am slightly hopeful. My hopefulness springs from mostly a need to succeed, and the basicity of survival. Only the strong survive. Strong, however, isn't the right word to use. Neither is intelligent. Let's use smart. Because intelligence is something gathered from books and strength is something derived from brawn. Smarts is a healthy balance of the two.

My goal: be smart.
Intelligence is difficult and strength is tricky...
But being smart is forever.
So let's try that.

In honour of optimism: "The Morning Of"

"Be civil to all; sociable to many;
familiar with few; friend to one; enemy to none."
-- Benjamin Franklin

This isn't some shameless advertisement for a band I-so-adore, but it is something of an inspiration. I stumbled across their MySpace page before Christmas, and I decided to bookmark it. Good that I did, eh? A week ago, I was feeling particularly morbid about returning to school (there are so many factors to add to the noxious mix) -- I still am kind of ogre-esque about the whole homeworking business -- and then some very pop-rocky song hit me smack dab in the face. Oh yes, this band made me giggle.

I suggest you click the ad, head over to their page and have a listen. Let Your Spirit Soar is one of my newest inspirations for a happier, optimistic day. Have a read:

"3 AM, A boy sits outside his house,
lonely with his guitar.
But then he plays a melody that's so familiar,
it reminds him of who we are
To the people that can hear us,
here's a message that's unwinding.
Don't break hearts and try to shake hands,
because we're living in a time of living's last chance.
Let your spirit soar!"

The BIO150 lab today was seriously going to kill me (mentally). I felt my brain slowly slush out of my ears; I really am trying to keep up with my new outlook, but it's running me over. I will not mock the lab and I will be more/act more enthused. But it was an ok lab overall -- most of my judgment is clouded by the fact that we left a good 1.5 hours earlier than usual. Fun stuff.

I think I'm going to go watch some hockey. Maybe watch another movie.
They always seem to propel me to work... in that sick, sad way.
You know, the, "Oh my GOD! I wasted my day! I should work! Oh shit!"

Yeah. Peace out.

Distill my thoughts, would you?

"Little by little, one travels far."
-- J. R. R. Tolkien

All I have to say, is that I have nothing to say. There's a hockey game on tonight (Chicago Hawks VS Montreal Canadiens). I think I'll watch it. There's a BIO150 lab tomorrow. I think I'll read later. As for other things, I've really nothing to say. Life is seemingly dull, as dull as the gray winter skies. That's art for you. Pure, inconsequential art.

Dr. Seuss: "I don't like green eggs and ham either."

“I do not like green eggs and ham.
I do not like them, Sam I am.”
-- Dr. Seuss (Green Eggs & Ham)

I will not lie. I cannot lie. In fact, I will simply tell the truth because there is absolutely no point in telling you that the first day back was exhilarating. I felt like I was smelling morning puke on the bus ride -- this is me being dramatic, so ignore this pedantic bit of writing -- and the subway was ultra-packed, as per usual, at St. George station. I've never been more disinterested in the TTC. I have no problem with taking long rides to places in the middle of nowhere, for my own reasons, but to drag myself (at 8-ish in the morning) to the bus stop was horrendous. Pft.

The first day back was bullshit. Yes. That's the term.

CHM139 should have been a breath of fresh air, but how many people do you hear saying that? We can count the people from last term too -- see what they say. I'm already dreading it. The clicker. The online assignments. The first term test on Valentine's day (not that this really matters, what with me having absolutely no purpose for that day, but it irks me).

Maybe I'm just not giving the semester a chance. I'm pre-judging it far before it's had any time to prove me wrong. I do not like green eggs and ham. Oh yeah; that's for sure. I wonder what the green eggs and ham will be this time around. I do not like them, Sam I am. Who will be the poor fool that tries to consciously convert me from my current loath of the term?

Ok. So I'm being a big pessimist. I'm not used to this pessimism. It's taking over me with all forms of cynicism. I'm going to do my best to try and like the term, but I highly doubt I will. If I'm lucky, I'll like green eggs and ham; I'll find something to like about CHM139 and MAT135. I'll... do something. Find something.

I need to punch something.
Or play a good game of... something.

Winter 2008: "What doesn't kill you, can only make you stronger."

"We have so much time and so little to do. Strike that, reverse it."
-- Roald Dahl (author of Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, et al)

It is with a heavy heart that I write this post. Yes, the death of our winter break is at hand. For many, new courses have sprung from the depths. For others, a single difference -- whether that be a new half course, or the presence of CHM139 or CHM138 (both beastly in workload, I hear). I suppose I could say that I'm unduly ready for the challenges that await me, but I'd be lying. And I'm a horrible liar. So instead of that fallacy, I'll tell you that I'm nervous as hell. Fear-ridden and shitting myself silly. Mentally, mind you.

I've got my work cut out for me this term. I've got essays, compositions, reports, all that and more to worry about. I've got final exams and more tests and an increase in failure-rates to deal with. Once the worst is over, I suppose I can rest. It's got to turn black, before it turns yellow; it's get to get worse, before it gets better. That is the way of the Bruises.

So tomorrow marks a new beginning, sort of. You can either take this term with a grain of salt and be taken under by its current, drowned in the undertow and smothered by false expectations. Or you can be utterly afraid, like myself, and push yourself past the brink of academic death -- find faith in your own work ethic, and propel yourself forward. Now is not a time to give up, moan, groan, or any of that juvenile business. Grow up. Accept the "This is U of T. You are a Number," cliché. Because it's not a cliché; it's the goddamn truth.

I guess the Princess Diaries is a perfect movie to watch right now (please finish this sentence before you disregard the remnants of my sanity); I think it was her father, in a letter to her, that spoke so eloquently about courage and fear. I'm not going to quote what I think it was, but I'm sure it went about saying something like, Courage is not the absence of fear, but the will to go on in the presence of it. Or something like such. Don't quote me; it's not verbatim.

So, fear this term. Be wary of it. Treat it like an opponent in a Cold War, except not really. Don't let it trample you or stare you down. Initiate. Guns at the ready, as some might say, and attack with sharpness. No use clinging to your skirts (or trousers) and whinnying about the unfairness of it all. I do that a lot -- but it's only to amuse myself. You sputter childish whines to feel less burdened, to feel more at ease. Fix what you can, when you can. Cry when you can't. That's all I can say.

So expect: moaning, groaning, angry words -- and underlying actions that make all that whining all the more palpable.

Good luck. Fare well.
Until tomorrow, at least.

WJC Finals: "It's a 4-peat!"

"You don't have enough talent to win on talent alone."
-- Herb Brooks
(Miracle On Ice, 1980 USA Olympic Hockey Team)

If I remember correctly, it was a three-peat last year. This year, make it a four-peat. Not exactly a kind sounding word, and I highly doubt it'll catch on in the grammatical world, but it's exactly what describes the World Juniors Championship finals: CAN vs SWE -- GOLD.

Let me recap the last four years, all the way from 2005 (think: Richards, Perry, Phaneuf), to 2006 (think: Pogge, Barker, Pouliot), to 2007 (think: Staal, Toews, O'Marra) and finally 2008 (think: Mason, Marchand, Doughty).

2005, CAN 6 vs. RUS 1
Arguably one of the stronger teams. One of my favourites.

2006, CAN 5 vs. RUS 0
This was a fun return for Cam Barker, from the 05 team.

2007, CAN 4 vs. RUS 2
Another one of them Russia games, with a pre-C Alzner.
Arguably one of my favourite teams; this team was pretty solid.
If you watched it, you'll remember the Toews shoot-out against the USA.

2008, CAN 3 vs. SWE 2 (OT)
This was a high-energy, up-and-down kind of game.
Steve Mason, #30 was superb in his goaltending -- hardcore.
Shawn Matthias' attempt to score from a wraparound equivocates to
Matt Halischuk scoring right through the pie-hole, sealing the deal
in Sudden Death OT.

Honestly, I wished for this fairytale like ending. According to my own personal superstition, a team that has to play the quarterfinal (doesn't get the by to the semis) has very slim chances of winning gold. Canada lost once to Sweden, losing their composure in the third of a prelim game. But, I suppose that was fuel to the fire. Based on stats alone, I'd have my money on Sweden after the third period. And I'm glad that Canada won (we can thank Mason for a chunk of this -- without him, where would we honestly stand; it was good of him to get MVP of the game/goalie of the tourney). This win secured optimism for Winter Term 2008.

So, I made a promise. If Canada wins gold, it'll give me hope for this term and I swear I'll work harder. And, so I'll try. Kind of weird to base your success and work ethic on a hockey game, but each year's tournament ignites some kind of hope. And getting gold just feeds the flame.

So, Congratulations WJC 2008 Champs; way to go Canada!

And yes. I will officially get back to work. I will... read. And stuff.


PS: Based on character alone, I suppose this might rank in my top 5 favourite WJC Team Canada teams. Maybe in the top 3, in a tie with the 2007 team, followed closely by the 2005 team.

WJC: Going For Gold

"A good hockey player plays where the puck is.
A great hockey player plays where the puck is going to be."

-- Wayne Gretzky

So I did the hockey-dork routine again. I woke up super early, ran to Price Chopper (ok, so I got a ride, but that's besides the point). I picked up all the possible ingredients one can possibly have (without being too fancy schmancy) for a vegetarian lasagna. Got started on that as soon as the clock's hand hit 11:00AM. Slaved over a stove and a cutting board (did you know how difficult it is to cut onions?). All this, so I could relax, watch the pre-game, semifinal showdown between Canada and the USA, show. With a plate of lasagna to warm me up.

Yes. I'm... strange. I've been on my feet since roughly 9 in the AM. I don't sit when I watch hockey games, in or out of an arena. I just can't. I get mini-heart attacks. This entire game was fantastic. I ran out of breath commentating (to no one but my half-asleep brother and a Landsberg-like dad). I, of course, was holding my breath with each passing second (knocking on wood whenever I could). And huzzah. Canada won, 4-1. Lovely, lovely, lovely. I'm overwhelmed with joy.

Now I can go back to work. Like I said, when the 5th come sand goes -- I'll resume my post as a boring, non-androgynous, grey-in-the-face U of T android. Until then? I think I'll take my sweet time eating lasagna, whilst I read a bajillion books. Hockey first. Work later.


PS: Go watch the WJC 2008 finals -- Canada VS Sweden on: Sat. Jan 5/2008, 2:00PM (EST). Make me proud. Ha.

WJC: So glad it ends before Monday.

"If you cannot convince them, confuse them."
-- Harry Truman

So I've been a hockey dork for the past few days. I had to stomp on my foot when Canada's juniors lost out to Sweden in a shaky third period. My brother let me squeeze his hand, as we watched the quarterfinals against Finland today. You can't imagine how loud I am when I watch hockey (with or without family; in an arena or in the comfort of my living room). Biting my nails (now, seemingly stubby), clapping like a seal and squawking at all the misplays. Oi vey.

This will all die down by January 5th. Two days before the new term. Which is good. I can only imagine how unfocused and glazed-over I'd look. Ha. Well, that's either a very fortunate coincidence or the IIHF working in favour of all U of T hockey fans.

Hmm. What should I do now? I wonder. Oh. Yes. Work. That dreadful word.
Maybe later, I'm thinking. Oh, what a dreadful thing procrastination is.

Writing Up Resolutions... or something like it.

"And I always confuse Monet and Manet.
Now which one married his mistress?"
- Daniel Ocean, in Ocean's 11

Firstly, Happy New Year's! It's 2008 and we're four more months into the end of first year! Think of life in that way and you'll be fine. Otherwise, you can wallow in self pity about age or whatnot. That's your really your choice.

Secondly!

2000-Eight Resolutions.
In the form of song lyrics. Because that's how I do things.

1. "I can do whatever I want like you." (Indiana, Meg & Dia)

2. "If you painted a Fresco." (Tell Mary, Meg & Dia)

3. "That's what you get when you let your heart win." (That's What You Get, Paramore)

4. "The Good News is that it's the end of the line, and all things heal with time, so just let go." (Good News and Bad News, Karate High School)

5. "We live in a beautiful world. Yes we do, yes we do." (Don't Panic, Coldplay)

6. "Keeping my mouth shut, that goes without saying." (Call It Off, Tegan and Sara)

7. "You humour me today, calling me out to play." (Telescope Eyes, Eisley)

8. "I said these goddamn kids got nothing on me... Do you know who I am?" (Speak Low If You Speak Love, My American Heart)



Welcome to Winter Term 2008.