Done with school. It is a weird feeling. I don't know what to do with myself now. I am excited, don't get me wrong, it's just that I have been going to school since I was 5 or 6 (I went to an advanced learning course....). That is a long time. Methinks a long time.
I had imagined I would throw my binders and notebooks, like I did in high school, and would have partied with my buds. That didn't happen. It was really anticlimactic. I went home and watched The Godfather. Yes, I need your sympathy.
I'm not super jazzed because I know I will end up going back at some point.
Showing posts with label college. Show all posts
Showing posts with label college. Show all posts
The DREADED group project
ACTUALLY, it is plenty of time to forget and procrastinate. Oh, and another thing, thanks for the group project, because nobody will take ownership - besides me, and even if they do help out, guess who is going to muck through all the crap to get it to sound cohesive - me. Thanks teach, nice work on being a total clown. I wanna grab your nose and make a 'honk' sound, but I can't because of certain social boundaries.
Needless to say, I have been put into another stellar group for a paper. I started on the paper about ten days before it was due. It is due this Thursday. Did I mention that it is worth 30% of our overall grade? So, we decided to break into into sections, which is fine if everyone owns up to it.
Tonight I get this email: I have completed questions 3 & 4.
What do you want, a hug, a toy? Good boy, you did something? WE DELEGATED THE WORK! This was the intent.
Then I get this: I'm not going to get to my section until Thursday morning.
So I wrote this email draft, which I won't send: Great job team, way to do what is exactly expected of you. I am so unimpressed with your lack of initiative and conviction. I appreciate you waiting till the last minute to get this project done and then send out emails that seem to be asking for some approval. I don't need you to check in with me. I need you to do the work.
I am probably overreacting.
Of significant note: Songza.com, an agnostic pandora, has updated their cite... I don't know how recently, but it has improved greatly.
the day I wore my fedora to school.
The fedora hat has been through quiet the journey. After a quick reading of Wikipedia, I have become an expert on the subject (and as someone who tried to add false information, and was banned for it, I know how serious the self governance is of Wiki's contributors). I will just give you the highlights. It was named after a woman named Fedora, who wore a hat, in a play of some kind of significance, that looks like a fedora as we know it. Originally, the fedora was a woman's fashion. Men soon started wearing the hat because of its style and utility. It was associated with gangsters in the 20's to 50's. Then, it died... until Indiana Jones, Dallas Cowboys coach Tom Landry, Alabama coach Paul "Bear" Bryant and more recently Michael Jackson.... MORE MORE recently, Ben Roethlisberger, who pulled it off amazingly. I wish I would have known the history of the fedora before I wore my straw fedora to school.
In my mind, the fedora has taken a different position than what it's illustrious history shows. My only interaction, with people who wear fedoras as part of their current and ongoing wardrobe, have been odd - they are weirdos.
I don't know why I put it the fedora on. I just wanted to try it out, something different. Maybe next week I will try some raw fish eggs. . . . . . . . . . no. . . . no, i won't. I must've been doing for the attention.
Here I was driving to school, with a straw fedora on my head, wondering 'why'? I got similar looks from my peers. I felt like I had the mark of death on me, by the way people were looking at me. I met with an academic advisor in the morning. She had a hard time looking me in the eyes. I shrugged it off as a draw - she just doesn't have confidence. She must be intimidated because I am putting so much confidence out.
Next came the grounds crew. I was walking straight, but for some reason the lady with the miniature saw played chicken with me. I chose left, she went right - as in my left. We were 20 feet apart and she was starting chicken with me. Was she doing zig-zags to avoid being sniped? - she must've been trying to read a sign behind me.
....... I realized that this post stunk, so I quit writing it, but decided to post it anyway......
I don't know why I put it the fedora on. I just wanted to try it out, something different. Maybe next week I will try some raw fish eggs. . . . . . . . . . no. . . . no, i won't. I must've been doing for the attention.
Here I was driving to school, with a straw fedora on my head, wondering 'why'? I got similar looks from my peers. I felt like I had the mark of death on me, by the way people were looking at me. I met with an academic advisor in the morning. She had a hard time looking me in the eyes. I shrugged it off as a draw - she just doesn't have confidence. She must be intimidated because I am putting so much confidence out.
Next came the grounds crew. I was walking straight, but for some reason the lady with the miniature saw played chicken with me. I chose left, she went right - as in my left. We were 20 feet apart and she was starting chicken with me. Was she doing zig-zags to avoid being sniped? - she must've been trying to read a sign behind me.
....... I realized that this post stunk, so I quit writing it, but decided to post it anyway......
what i learned in marketing
airlines use a computer algorithm to raise prices every single day. they call it dynamic pricing and companies use it to stretch out every penny from consumers. there are people who don't like that, but have done something about it.
the founders and creators of decide.com sold their first company to BING, which helps the search engine determine what is the best price for airline tickets and if those tickets are expected to rise. decide.com has the same idea, but is for a wide variety of products.
the founders and creators of decide.com sold their first company to BING, which helps the search engine determine what is the best price for airline tickets and if those tickets are expected to rise. decide.com has the same idea, but is for a wide variety of products.
Free loaders
School is coming to an end. for some reason, I have two large group projects due this week. I have done my best to contribute and further my groups. It is a frustrating when people in your group just freeload. I hate it. Peer-reviews are good I guess, but I don't feel justice in the freeloader getting a lower grade than me because they do not care. I want something more severe.
To improve the education system we should have a demerit system, which will begin as soon as the person enters high school. If the student fails to meet group expectations or take initiative to help, besides getting a poor grade, the student will receive a demerit. When you have accumulated enough demerits, say 5-8, you are subjected to public humiliation, which in itself is up to interpretation and could be interesting.... if they continue to underperform, reaching a level 10-15, the student will be exiled to a foreign country to work in a sweat shop. FOREVER.
To improve the education system we should have a demerit system, which will begin as soon as the person enters high school. If the student fails to meet group expectations or take initiative to help, besides getting a poor grade, the student will receive a demerit. When you have accumulated enough demerits, say 5-8, you are subjected to public humiliation, which in itself is up to interpretation and could be interesting.... if they continue to underperform, reaching a level 10-15, the student will be exiled to a foreign country to work in a sweat shop. FOREVER.
Truth Room
Just follow me on this journey for facts, truth, and fun.
CLICK HERE FOR ANSWERS.
Thank you:
Caleb for the inspiration and reporting skills.
Andrew, for being who he is.
Liz, for helping out with the filming and design team.
CLICK HERE FOR ANSWERS.
Thank you:
Caleb for the inspiration and reporting skills.
Andrew, for being who he is.
Liz, for helping out with the filming and design team.
She Dragon.
There was this girl the other day, on campus, who had an extreme amount of eyeshadow. It was so bright, that I almost mistook her face for a neon sign. Too much of a good thing can be bad, and in this case, it was. She had the Dragon eyes; which is a red flag. Initially, she might seem appealing, but when you dig deeper, you know there is a story to be told. As in our case, Shrek provides the story, doctrine, and principle of the 'She Dragon'.
"Dragon is never given a proper name in the [Shrek] films. Her fire can melt
metal in seconds, such as Prince Charming's sword in the third film. She
has a taste for knights, her favorite dish. She even has a recipe book
for preparing them for dinner. In the first film, Dragon is charged with guarding Princess Fiona in
her isolated castle, and is therefore initially seen by Shrek and Donkey
as an antagonist. While Shrek tries to rescue the princess, Donkey
finds himself at the mercy of Dragon. However, in terror, he
successfully, but unintentionally, wins her over. Shrek and Donkey
manage to escape with Fiona, leaving Dragon behind. Dragon returns later
in the film, having escaped the volanic keep, and reunites with Donkey.
She flies him and Shrek to Duloc to prevent Fiona marrying Lord
Farquaad, whom she later eats. Dragon and Donkey begin a relationship,
and at the end of the film, when Shrek and Fiona get married, Fiona
tosses her bouquet and Dragon catches it. She looks over at Donkey, who
then looks at Shrek with surprise and slight terror. After Shrek nods to
Donkey, giving them his blessing, Donkey accepts Dragon as his mate," (taken from Wikipedia). Then they make some kind of ugly flying jackass. The end.
Women, with dragon eyes, are like the dragon. Initially, violent, even willing to murder. Which can be attractive, even fun, I guess. Somehow, in their insanity, the dragon woman will fall in love with you. However, you did nothing to promote that feeling, nor did you reciprocate that feeling. You were merely interested. You are forced, not by the laws of nature or love, rather the laws of submission, to give into them. If you do not, they will eat you; they love eating people. In the end, you will make ugly looking babies.
When you see a woman with dragon eyes, you become interested. When you become interested, you say too much. When you say too much, you get into trouble. When you get into trouble, you get end up in a commitment. When you have a commitment, you make rash decisions. And when you make rash decisions, you wake up to an ugly baby. Stop making rash decisions. Don't look at women with dragon eyes.
NOTE: I do not have any real experience in this field. But I know a many men who have fallen to this con. Thanks to their experiences, I have dodged that bullet. Her eyes tell the story. And she either has F.P. or the murder gene, for sure.
When you see a woman with dragon eyes, you become interested. When you become interested, you say too much. When you say too much, you get into trouble. When you get into trouble, you get end up in a commitment. When you have a commitment, you make rash decisions. And when you make rash decisions, you wake up to an ugly baby. Stop making rash decisions. Don't look at women with dragon eyes.
NOTE: I do not have any real experience in this field. But I know a many men who have fallen to this con. Thanks to their experiences, I have dodged that bullet. Her eyes tell the story. And she either has F.P. or the murder gene, for sure.
Intellectualism
People in college are so smart and involved. So much so, that the tagging on bathroom stalls and desks have become another avenue to broadcast political thoughts. For example, I saw a tag on the back of a desk chair that read, "Angry about high gas prices? Do something about it." That really got me fired up. I wanted to do something so badly, but what? They should have given me some suggestions.
I decided to join the occupy Salt Lake City protest... I didn't end up going... Didn't have a tent or a guitar.
I am just so grateful for the people who take it upon themselves to write little inspirational questions and philosophical ideas on surfaces.
I decided to join the occupy Salt Lake City protest... I didn't end up going... Didn't have a tent or a guitar.
I am just so grateful for the people who take it upon themselves to write little inspirational questions and philosophical ideas on surfaces.
It's all semantics.... Right?
I have held off writing about my roommate, mostly because I knew he would reveal a fountain of treasure, and I didn't wanna come across mean, but I have realized that everyone needs to know about Lynx; which isn't his real name, but it is the name of a constellation, and he is named after a constellation, but I think Lynx is a cooler name than his real name. Everyone needs to know about his extraordinary gifts. You will come to appreciate, as I have, how exceptional the man is. That is how you should take this. Not a roast. Not a mockery, but a view of person that is cut from a different cloth. A person who goes to the beat of his own drum, not only because he can play the drums, but because he is the exception to the norm. He decided that years ago.
I think it would be appropriate to share how I came to meet Lynx.
One day, during the middle of the semester, I came home, and notice that a blue Nissan Odyssey was parked in the driveway. (Too bad the van wasn't a Toyota.) I roll inside the house to find a long-haired bearded man, looking back at me through his spectacles. I almost ask, but I size up the situation in the kitchen, and realize that he isn't a DHL guy hand delivering dish after dish into the cupboards. Instead I say, "Uh......" He responds as quick as a a double shot of 5 hour energy. "I am your new roommate. I used to live across the street. My name is Lynx." My head wants me to still say "Uh...." Somehow I manage to say, "Why," which is better than a basket of cookies to house warm a person with. Yum, don't you feel welcomed now.
I later find out that he was a music major, doesn't go to school, is from California, and doesn't want to get to know me. Not because he is mean, he just didn't ask me a single question or show any human interest in me. I still don't know why he had to move. I am just so glad he is living with me. Now I can know how boring I am.
Whenever I think of Lynx, I think of Men in Black, but I quickly come back to earth, from that celestial constellation, when I go into the bathroom we share. He must have laid out coal and other dark substances on his carpet floor in his room (the door to his room is always closed, so he may actually be growing weed too), or walks barefoot every where, because he has extraordinary dirty feet. The bottom of our shower is black. This is incredible.
To further baffle me, the man has a mane that sheds furiously. I find hair all over. I wonder if he is Teen wolf. This is truly preternatural. I am not sure if this all preparation for the part of my life when I have to share a bathroom with a woman, but I am sure that he is supernatural, and that Indian hair is thick. Thick as THIEVES! (Idioms are fun. Reread that sentence with some authority. Maybe yell it.) Yes, his hair is that thick.
He is really gifted in music. Whether it is the piano, drums, the guitar, or humming, the guy knows what he is doing. His voice exercises are most spectacular. Powerful. That is what comes to mind. Power. He can shake the walls, vibrate my seat, and consume my mind with his vocal talents. I have to bid farewell to my studies, while I am forced to listen. I actually considered putting beeswax in my ears, the sound was pulling me out of reality.... His band does have some chicks, which is awesome. I love when girls, excuse me, women rock out. Like Grace Potter, Elly Jackson, and yes, even Avril Lavigne, especially when she sings in Spanish.
I wonder what he does all day. I sit in amazement at his hour and half long showers. Awed, by his ability to eat nothing but Betty Crocker cakes, and never clean a dish. Dumbfounded, by our ability to live with each other and not know anything about each other. I am stupefied by his self-discipline to stay in our house and his room all of the time. His awkwardness is truly awesome. I give you Lynx. He gives you extraordinary.
I think it would be appropriate to share how I came to meet Lynx.
One day, during the middle of the semester, I came home, and notice that a blue Nissan Odyssey was parked in the driveway. (Too bad the van wasn't a Toyota.) I roll inside the house to find a long-haired bearded man, looking back at me through his spectacles. I almost ask, but I size up the situation in the kitchen, and realize that he isn't a DHL guy hand delivering dish after dish into the cupboards. Instead I say, "Uh......" He responds as quick as a a double shot of 5 hour energy. "I am your new roommate. I used to live across the street. My name is Lynx." My head wants me to still say "Uh...." Somehow I manage to say, "Why," which is better than a basket of cookies to house warm a person with. Yum, don't you feel welcomed now.
I later find out that he was a music major, doesn't go to school, is from California, and doesn't want to get to know me. Not because he is mean, he just didn't ask me a single question or show any human interest in me. I still don't know why he had to move. I am just so glad he is living with me. Now I can know how boring I am.
Whenever I think of Lynx, I think of Men in Black, but I quickly come back to earth, from that celestial constellation, when I go into the bathroom we share. He must have laid out coal and other dark substances on his carpet floor in his room (the door to his room is always closed, so he may actually be growing weed too), or walks barefoot every where, because he has extraordinary dirty feet. The bottom of our shower is black. This is incredible.
To further baffle me, the man has a mane that sheds furiously. I find hair all over. I wonder if he is Teen wolf. This is truly preternatural. I am not sure if this all preparation for the part of my life when I have to share a bathroom with a woman, but I am sure that he is supernatural, and that Indian hair is thick. Thick as THIEVES! (Idioms are fun. Reread that sentence with some authority. Maybe yell it.) Yes, his hair is that thick.
He is really gifted in music. Whether it is the piano, drums, the guitar, or humming, the guy knows what he is doing. His voice exercises are most spectacular. Powerful. That is what comes to mind. Power. He can shake the walls, vibrate my seat, and consume my mind with his vocal talents. I have to bid farewell to my studies, while I am forced to listen. I actually considered putting beeswax in my ears, the sound was pulling me out of reality.... His band does have some chicks, which is awesome. I love when girls, excuse me, women rock out. Like Grace Potter, Elly Jackson, and yes, even Avril Lavigne, especially when she sings in Spanish.
I wonder what he does all day. I sit in amazement at his hour and half long showers. Awed, by his ability to eat nothing but Betty Crocker cakes, and never clean a dish. Dumbfounded, by our ability to live with each other and not know anything about each other. I am stupefied by his self-discipline to stay in our house and his room all of the time. His awkwardness is truly awesome. I give you Lynx. He gives you extraordinary.
A personal goal
despite my broken self, i have made a goal to do something really cool every day. for example: write a rap, record a rap, become a rapper... sorry for the tangent, but those are some really cool things. OR like make a dry ice bomb.
but the problem is why do i even write these posts... no one freaking reads them.
but the problem is why do i even write these posts... no one freaking reads them.
Living on a love sac.
....Is probably one of the more uncomfortable things to sleep on. Surprising really. The downy soft feeling, the spacious room is has, it's inviting roundness all seem to point to a luxurious form of comfort. Not so. Most people lay on a love sac for about a hour or two, maybe, usually for a movie, television watching, or gaming. They aren't sleeping. And another fact, it is called love sac for a reason... need I say more? I shall answer that retorical question, Negative.
I fluffed it up, before I slammed into it like the Undertaker off of the top ropes. This proved to be most unproductive. My body formed a canyon in the sac. The walls came in around me like a mothers arms, only these arms were not filled with love and compassion. The sac has no feelings. It bent to my body in such a way that resulted in serious discomfort. Horrawful. I awoke and determined that I wouldn't sleep in that state again. Although my other alternative isn't much better--the floor. Such is life of a college student.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)