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Of course, this would be the unpublished, unverified guide, but it's mine.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.