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This is the part of the evening (similar to parts of the morning and afternoon not taken up by class, work, or bus) where I should be doing homework, except I am working ahead so it's not too crucial. Instead of working I am reading blogs, mostly completely irrelevant stories of total strangers.
And speaking of total irrelevancy, it's cold out but I have all the windows open and the fans going because my roomate decided that reruns of Leave It To Beaver or whatever the hell he's watching is more fascinating than whatever he's cooking, and burned a giant pot of beans and rice such that he set off the smoke alarm. Now everything smells of burnt beans, with his exceptionally witty--and not ironically intended--question, apparently dumbfounded by the piercing shriek of electronics in pain, of "is the stove on?" WTF?
![](http://www.scienzz.de/magazin/upload/forschung/KolCarlPeters.jpg)
So, I have no idea how I'll do on the midterm. I know I'll pass, but the teacher is such a wild card, gives us completely illogically structured handouts and generally manages to completely confuse me. I have no idea what he wants from me.
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![](http://rsb.info.nih.gov/ij/images/baboon.jpg)
Of the half of the semester remaining, I have at least one if not two anthropology exams and two astronomy exams, four more lab practicals, two minor and one longer paper for poli sci on civil war as well as a presentation on Zimbabwe, a short reaction and a research paper for german history, two or three more midterms for history, a presentation and five reaction papers--and a 20p research excerpt--for international affairs, a conference paper, five final exams and four applications due. I like to complain about my workload, because it makes me feel important. Or masochistic. Perhaps that's the same thing?
It's too dark now to go running in the morning, so I now go in town on the Boulder Creek path with everyone else and their hamster. Seriously, the place is full but the people-watching is great, though I get depressed by the romantic couples. The football team practices down there, and it is funny to watch guys carrying around their bodyweight in padding, looking like little marshmallows with helmets. It makes them look manly, and...padded. I miss the appeal. Sometimes there are packs of sorority sisters wandering around, looking like a matching set of decorative objects. To be fair, all of those that I have gotten to know have been way more interesting than anticipated.
Someone gave me a free cow bell yesterday at the fall festival. And a yoghurt. And a cookie. I still have the cow bell.
2 comments:
I hope, in the midst of all this chaos, digression, time-using, spontaneous behavior, and just simple confusion, you remain focused on your goals and have a big smile at the end of the semester for all you've accomplished. I can see it will be a challenge. Love, mom
Mom has this bizarre fascination with "getting things done" and "being responsible" which, quite frankly, I don't understand. I think it has something to do with self-improvement or somesuch, but the exact meaning is lost to me.
And you never know when random trivia might save your life. In fact, I mention that because I've recently thought the only way for reality tv to get worse would be for producers to actively engage in anti-social behavior. Which fortunately they do (check out the NYT article on the show "Intervention"). I bring this up because I've always thought those game shows were too tame and there should be increased motivation to not just win, but also to not answer incorrectly. Milgram tried this and look where it got him; he's in the history books and every college undergrad in the social science gets to hear about his experiment and be self-righteously appalled. And if notoriety is the bread-and-butter of reality TV...
Just a thought.
-Mason
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