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.

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.

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.

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.

First Term: Soundtrack for Fall Term 2007 (and Merry Christmas!)

"Every time you suppress some part of yourself or allow others to play you small,
you are in essence ignoring the owner's manual
your creator gave you and destroying your design."
-- Oprah Winfrey

I felt particularly creative last week, so I created a soundtrack (disc and all).
Really, it's just a compilation of the songs that were on repeat on my iPod this term.
They reflect on the emotions that ran through me at that period.
If you must know, the songs are chronologically ordered.
Not in terms of their release, but in regards to how I felt and at what part of the term.

If you're feeling up to looking up music, check out the playlist.
See if it suits you in any way.
I'm going to repost the list if it's too difficult to see on the file (click the thumbnail).

Merry Christmas to all. I'll be out of the city for two or so days.
Rest up, chin up and play it safe. Brain cells are of the utmost importance!

Adios, ciao, a bientot, and all that jazz.
Will have pictures of snow and restfulness up before/by the New Year.


Note: All images are (c) Suzette Llacer. Yes; those are her shoes, her UTSG calendar and fifteen-minute handiwork on Corel (her Adobe's on another laptop). Fancy them much?

Jane Austen and weeding out the freshmen

"I do not want people to be agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them."
-- Jane Austen

I was reading Emma by Jane Austen when I remembered something... And, I know it's almost Christmas. And I shouldn't be analyzing life, right now anyways. But, I'm obliged to do so. With this blog as my witness, I will analyze first year statistics and social patterns. I will take what I've learned in... enlightening discussions with teacher figures about the nature of this first year sweep. Yes. The weeding, as it's better called. So... cut me some slack. I'm going to be a mini-analyst, minus any Freudian assumptions.

I hate to be the bearer of obvious news (Captain Obvious, in layman's terms), but I gathered the impression that these exams were not (and have never been) a measure of one's intelligence. Oh no. Exams at U of T are not based on knowledge or intelligence, but are means of dividing the strong from the weak. Of course, intelligence doesn't have to play a part in this process. Let me use a term that BIO150 has already established: natural selection.

Like Austen's quote, our natural abilities, seen and shown, will help the "higher ups" decide whether or not we're worth keeping. They either like us (uber-genius children), or hate us (your average Joe). Depending on where we land, these exams will select against or for us, our kind.

Those of us who survive will thrive, multiply brain cells and continue to dominate down the road. Those of us who falter will be on the borderline of negative selection; we'll be processed and drained out of the batch, strained and sifted out of the creme de la creme. Then there are those that have already been sifted and drained, strained and beaten to a pulp; they're awaiting the compost, or possibly being reconsidered for the de-glazed sauce (you know, the stuff at the bottom of the pan that's scrubbed off with sherry and turned into a sauce for later?). That's only if you're lucky. Keyword is lucky.

A lot of success includes a good sum of luck. The same rule applies to success at this university, not necessarily in the social aspects of it, but in beating the system. You can't really beat the marking system or the administrative properties given and found, but you can evade it here and there. Life will occasionally do its business of dropping dollops of luck. And luck is, by far, the next-best tool (next to work ethic) against this godforsaken marking system.

They don't stop as you age; they don't realize their wrongs, as numbers dwindle. No, they just soften up, based on their motives. The marking system is only as hard as it is now because of Operation Garden Weeds, which, in my opinion, refers to the process of weeding and sifting out the people who are, and don't quote me, "just lucky to be here" from the "truly gifted and welcomed" students. Once you're in, they slow down a bit. They realize you might just be gifted and wonderful; they slow down their tactics, regain composure and watch you. Then they wait for the right moment to attack. Like predators, they stalk you and wait for you to show a sign of weakness. At this point, past the first year mark, is when you ought to be on your guard.

Until then, you're still in first year. So you're still allowed to have that minute amount of naivety, but you ought to compose yourself soon. My idiot card will only last me so long; soon enough, they'll take that from me, like they would in a card-game of War, and I'll only be left with low digits and one trump card.

Play it safe. Play it smart.
First year is a battlefield. A game to the higher-ups, maybe.
Exams are the weeding process. The mine-field. A game of War.
Hold your cards close and play the right cards, at the right times.
And maybe, maybe you'll eventually luck-out and win.
Or evade the system. Or both.

CHM138: "I'm starting to worry about Ray."

"They say the future's out to get you.
You know that I won't let you fall."
-- The Hoosiers (Worried About Ray)


I'll see you on the dark side.
If tomorrow isn't a pain-in-the-backside, I think I'll enjoy my holidays.
I'm crossing my fingers; I'm hoping for the best -- yet I still expect the worst.
Chemistry is fun. Just... Not when it gets superbly ridiculous.
I'm hoping 3 hours is enough time. (When is time ever enough?)

Then. After tomorrow. I'm home free. Well. For two-or-so-weeks.
First chemistry. Then come the holidays.

NOTE: All photos are (c) Suzette Llacer 2007. That is a sticky-note posted on her laptop, yes, it's bizarre. She knows.

----------------
Now playing: The Hoosiers - Worried About Ray
via FoxyTunes

BIO150: "Faaair ball!"

"Never trust anything that can think for itself
if you can't see where it keeps its brain."
-- J.K. Rowling (Harry Potter)

Dear Prof Stinchcombe,

Exams are always hard; that's a given fact of life. Yours was no exception. But it was fair. There was nothing completely out of the blue (except for material you probably wouldn't remember unless you attended the lecture an hour before). We were fairly warned about the article content. Some of the questions were hilariously nitty-gritty (detail-oriented), but it wasn't a tear-jerker like the first term test (I suppose Spencer Barrett's horrendous test questions made up for his cool-Brit accent). It wasn't impossible, yet it wasn't completely satisfying (you know, for holiday-and-grade hopes, i.e. Christmas presents and moot points?). All in all, it could have been better (please don't hesitate to ask how; I have 101 tips on how to write easier, more approachable tests). And though some may think that the term test was a foul ball, past the line and a little ambiguous, or a "Strike two!", or even "Home run!" ---- if I were the ump, I'd call, "Fair ball."

So... Good job. On being honest. At UofT. (A rare thing, I know.)

Kudos.

- Suzette Llacer


PS: I have the "Chicka-dee-dee-dee..." lecture in my head. So sad. So sad.

X-mas tv specials vs. UofT mind control?

"And they will try to make us forget ourselves, one by one, one by one.
Call me crazy but they are after us, one by one, one by one."
-- Eisley (Invasion, Combinations)

Has my mind done that yet? I'm not completely sure. I should check. ASAP.

I'm going to spontaneously combust. I need sleep. I slept at 4:00 in the a.m.
So much for moderation of sleep and all things healthful. And I've still got to "read."
Well. This is fun. Super-fun-fun-fun.

Insert dialogue: "What's so bad about being a UofT android: mindless and smart!"
Retort in mind? "Can I do that after the new year? I swear, I'll conform!"
Seriously. If you want an android, a hard-working robot, I'll be that by January. I swear!
(Note to self: watching Disney movies = bad study tactic.)

I'm so utterly disoriented. I told myself I wouldn't watch Christmas specials (on TV) until after exams, and I flipped through the channels (oh the perks and downsides of having my own TV) and came across The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. Man, oh man! I watched it. Was disoriented. Went on to watch Hockey Night In Canada -- and poof. There went four hours of potential brain-cramming. But it felt so, so good! For a moment, I escaped the mind control of repetitive reading and application -- the stuff UofT androids are made of! (I swear I'll be this way soon. I swear!)

But... TV? Studying? Never again.



Note: All images are (c) Suzette Llacer. Yes, the movie shot shows "Road to Eldorado" and a picture of fireworks she took a few years back, on Canada Day. Oh the good, old, simple days. Oh woe is she.

Loss of Focus and the Need to Watch Shrek 2

"I think we have an emergency; I think we have an emergency.
If you thought I'd leave then you were wrong, because I won't stop holding on."
-- Paramore (Emergency, All We Know Is Falling)

I zonked in and out of focus today. I really do have a problem studying before the Winter Break. I'm mentally dying (Note to self: condition your mind for pre-holiday exams, if not now then for next year). I've had exams in November. I've had exams in January. Just never December. "Peace of mind is dead. Holiday cheer and frivolousness is nonexistent. Welcome to U of T?" Yipes.

I think I'm in need of a Shrek fix. I can't seriously do bio for another ... two hours.
I'm going to spontaneously combust one day. You wait.

In Stinchcombe We Trust...?

"What's a wedding? Webster's dictionary describes it as the act of removing weeds from one's garden."

-- Homer Simpson (The Simpsons)

So the pre-BIO150 exam tutorial was pretty impressive, considering it was two hours of hardcore Q&A, in the Earth Science building (no less) and with more than a hundred kids firing queries. The senior TA that came in today was very informative (and superior to some I've met and spoken to, not that I'm pointing any fingers -- save for my aunt, who once was a TA at U of T). And I thought I was the only one who used analogies (with effect); hmph! to anyone who ever judged me for such.

Despite its impressiveness, which honestly counts for moot points, I'm getting the subliminal message: Know every-effin'-thing possible. After my run-in with heartfelt failure (MAT135Y term test 2 = heinous), I'm hoping I can trust in BIO150. I'm hoping I can trust in Stinchcombe's test. (I'm so optimistic and idealistic that it kills me to frown. I suppose this could also be the aftermath of post-anxiety denial.)

"The direction in which education starts a man will determine his future life."
-- Plato

Funny Plato. Isn't he just the darndest philosopher you ever did read up on? It's funny how he states the Western Dream (my personal derivative of the American and Canadian dream -- a good mix of winning the Stanley Cup and getting into an Ivy League school): to make it big, through the right people, through the right institutions, which will send you in the right direction.

Now, according to 1 of my 6 sticky notes posted on my desk, I've got to study.
(Personally, I love BIO. I just hate studying. This conflict kills me inside. Ah.)

Note: All photos seen are (c) Suzette Llacer. Yes. That is her lab manual.

Calc Exam: "Let's never speak of this again."

"Do not worry about your difficulties in Mathematics. I can assure you mine are still greater."
-- Albert Einstein

Let's skew Einstein's quote, take it completely out of context, and replace his name with mine. For anyone who found the test difficult and heinous, you're not alone. I was suffocating (more like a mild form of dyspepsia). After the first few questions, I realize just how defective MAT135Y is as a course: none of the past tests, nothing that was worth focusing on, was really on the test. A load of the biggest bullshit was on it -- in short, stuff no one thought was worth fiddling over was on that written form of mental homicide. Absolutely ridiculous.

It'd be nice to pass, to be honest. A sympathy pass, hopefully. (Are you reading this God? Or better yet: Prof Lam -- are you getting my telepathic pleas?) For anyone who found it easy: up yours. Honestly though, that's great -- good for you. Seriously. But! Keep that tidbit of info to yourself, or else you'll find many glares and a thousand daggers headed your way (figuratively speaking; though the wind does a well enough job portraying a thousand daggers, as it whips your face red, as you walk down St. George Street).

I wasn't intending to find out if calc was the Career Killer, the Jack-the-Ripper of university. But I got my whiff of failure today and absolute helplessness. Have you ever felt like you were completely powerless? Utterly speechless and without the ability to dictate your own actions? This test pretty much abducted me, threw me into a cell and instructed me to dig my way out with a plastic spoon. Helpless and hopeless. Oh so wonderful! (Please note the heavily-laden sarcasm.)

Lucky for me, I had Grey's Anatomy and Whose Line is it Anyway? to look forward to. They always make me feel better. That and a good, warm cookie. Oh thank you very much, dearest mumsy.

Off to bed.
I'm not going to speak of this again.
I'm going to glare at bio and chem.
But I'm not going to let this soil my to-be-established exam mood.

"You win some, you lose some."

"Failure will never overtake me if my determination to succeed is strong enough."
-- Og Mandino

I'm pretty sure a lot of us came into university thinking the worst, yet we weren't exactly expecting it. We came in with high hopes, and we harbored that juvenile expectation that we'd always do well and get what we wanted. But realize that when you walk into UofT, as harsh and as bitter as the administration and marking system so happen to be, you're walking into a slap-in-the-face. For kids who've never experienced this before, it's the hardest possible lesson to learn: Real life happens.

What exactly does "real life" entail? Let me rephrase this: Life is full of unexpected things, half of which are unfathomable. Real life happens at UofT. Here, you learn the real meaning of working your ass off; the line, "I'm going to pull an all nighter," never seemed so real. You actually do pull all-nighters. You kill yourself for hours trying to master a concept that will barely, if not never, cling to the recesses of your mind. You struggle to stay focused, but you're having too much fun being distracted. Work ethics come into play at UofT, no matter what anyone says -- you can contest that you came from a grungy high school, and I'll wholeheartedly believe you: Strong foundations build strong buildings. The same goes for futures: if you weren't well-educated and weren't encouraged or challenged, you obviously haven't experienced education to its fullest. As hard and as heinous as UofT is, you know they're challenging you and they want the best from you. No less. If you feel like it, please do yell, "High school robbed me of an education." It'll be well attested.

"Success is liking yourself, liking what you do, and liking how you do it."

-- Maya Angelou

You come into first year and you are either shocked by the impersonal atmosphere created by thousands of kids, or the newness of failure. Failing your first test, ever, doesn't mean you failed life. It just means you came across a prominent bump in the road (to where? I'm not sure, but you can decide that yourself). And for others, especially those that hail from a very well-fashioned lifestyle where everything just seemingly went well/your way: Not getting what you want doesn't mean the world's against you.

"Success is the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm."
-- Sir Winston Churchill

For anyone who's had their heart broken this year (either in realizing that "nothing was going to happen" or that "it was an impossible scenario," you all get what I'm saying), or had their dreams dashed, or had their hopes drowned: you'll live. I give you a good couple of weeks, which should be plenty of time to rejuvenate yourself and recuperate from all this stress, and you'll be fine. The only person who can help you is yourself. Only you can refuse to be put down by these thoughts. Failed? Study your ass off for the next test. The same principle applies to all other aspects of so-called "failure" (which is terrible, terrible word). If at first you don't succeed, try again; that doesn't mean you take the same route, or approach the same person after all truths have been established -- it means you have to find a new route. Find a new approach, a new ideal. Evolve and progress damn it!

So you didn't get your anticipated 99.9% and ended up with a 70% instead; that's not bad. If you think that's bad, think of everyone else who would kill for a 70 (I would honestly kill for a constant 70 in all my courses; that would be a fantastic Christmas gift). Think about everyone else who's trying so much harder than you to understand concepts, but doesn't obtain something near that mark. Count your bloody effin' blessings, children. That's the least you can do amidst all this madness. There's no point bitching and moaning, when you can be working on something.

If you can fix a problem, fix it. If you can't, then go and cry.
There's no point crying over something that can be altered. Nothing is ever set in stone (maybe except for your genetic makeup, which obviously mutates as things go haywire). If you settle for less, if you settle for this so-called fate, you're obviously not trying hard enough; thus, you don't want to do as well as the other kids, hence your own failures. So do something already! Gah.

And back to anyone who's been slapped in the face about the imperfections of expectations versus hopes. "So if I try hard enough in school, and get what marks I want, I can apply this try-and-try-again rule to relationships and all that jazz?" Well. No, not really. Love, crushes, all that rose-tinted stuff can't be tampered with. Working for you obviously involves one person and their ability to push themselves past their threshold, past their own expectations. Working something out, like a relationship, takes two. It takes two to tango, hun. If one end doesn't bother working out the steps, it'll look like badly-choreographed jive. And don't confine yourselves yet. No one is anyone's soulmate. I'm not saying they don't exist, I'm just saying there aren't defined people for your happiness. Don't let other people draw the line when it comes down to how you feel, or how you are.

Changing for the sake of someone else is never a good sign.
Quirky is as quirky does; what would the world do without this you that you are?
Imbalance would occur! That's what. So just... be you.
Hope. Dream. Dance. Scream. Be you.
There's no point in thinking otherwise.
(I'd respect you less; a whole lot less.)
And if nothing seems to go your way... Find another way.
Not everything will be perfect. Get used to it.
Life with it. Real life is at UofT. Real life can hurt.
But don't lose faith or hope in it. No point in moping.
When one door closes, find another. When they're all shut...
Find a window. It's obviously a haunted house you're in.


Peace out.

PS: This post goes out to all those who've been disappointed in the past four months. You're good people and you're all fantastic; don't you ever think that one test, one moment, one defined feeling that governs your sanity, defines you and the path you're taking. Because it doesn't. And if you think that way, please call my cell phone. We will have a very, very long talk. Crumpets and tea? I'd like that. With a smack on the head and a reality check to boot. (You know I love you guys.)

Exam reminders: T-Cards are a must!

Pre-Post Reminder:
If you've already forgotten that you have school and that you have exams (well that's fantastic; you're off to a very, very good start: go check the December 2007 Exam Schedule), let me be the first and last to remind you that T-Cards are a must. You must present your number, or else they will not (I repeat: will not), recognize you. You are only as good as the number on your card (that, and the face accompanying the card-holder). If you've lost it, ahem to some (Farah), go get a new one, ASAP. For anyone in Life Sci, who is taking MAT135, you'll most likely need it for Term Test 2, December 6th (yes, that would be a Thursday -- aren't you on the ball?).


Post-reminder post:
Maybe it's just me, maybe I'm being anal, but if you're going to save seats for your friends, please ensure that your friend is a real person and not a bag/inanimate being of some sort. It tends to irk people when you respond to their queries like this: "Yeah. That seats saved." (Insert anonymous-brand bag that's sitting all by its lonesome.) And dummies don't count, unless you're really funny. Then I'll let it slide. Otherwise, bags, when taking valuable seating space, are counted as vile villains. Off with their... zippers. And handles. Beware.

Tomorrow, or some day after, I'd like to discuss "Passion vs. Intelligence" and "Social Retardation vs. Interpersonal Finesse," which is the brainchild discussion of a random phone-call regarding Research Positions for first-and-further year undergrads. When you're eating fries, trying to read BIO150 articles (dry as bone, for a vast majority of the articles), and examining your prospects, you tend to elaborate.

I'll post that depthy, layered thought later.
When I've found time to rest. Yes. Time to rest.