Monday, April 25, 2011


Semester's almost over. Only one more exam to go. I'm not feeling that great about it, but what can I do? Just study as much as I can and lump through it and hope I get a B- or better. This last exam is for the class I'm least confident about, since I don't always show up for lecture and even when I do, I usually fall asleep against my will.

I had an exam today and the results were posted this evening, which is shockingly fast turnaround time and makes me wonder if the professor isn't in a hurry to be somewhere. He has an accent and I wonder if his summer plans involve being somewhere where he won't. Have an accent, that is. English is hard at two in the morning.

My score wasn't traumatizing. I had been hoping for better, but I was still slightly above the average, even though the increase wasn't significant. What caught my eye was the fact that two homework assignments from a month ago were showing up as zeros. (Zeroes? fuck numbers. fuck spelling.) I knew that I'd done the assignments and that I'd turned them into the drop box outside the department mail room, but I didn't remember whether I'd gotten the assignments back or not. I thought I had, but after digging through everything in my teeny dorm (twice), I had to accept that either I'd left it at my boyfriend's (unlikely) or I'd never gotten it back in the first place.

I emailed the professor, explaining the situation, and his reply was pretty much "No proof? Too bad, too late." I'm hardly paraphrasing. He didn't try to make me feel better.

What irks me is that I hadn't even realized they were missing until tonight. The grades just remained blank, like someone intended to put in a nonzero grade, they just hadn't gotten around to it yet, so when I saw the zeros tonight, it took me by surprise. My homework grades haven't been spectacular, especially since his wording is so vague and sometimes isn't even related to the lectures (now I'm just pushing blame), but I'd never received zeros for them.

No. Actually, what pisses me off is the fact that someone lost my homework assignments. Two of them. My grade was kind of borderline and their stupid mistake pushed it under. Even if I had discovered it earlier, what could have been done to avoid this mess of a grade that I have now?

It's been more than two hours since then and I'm still in a foul mood. I'm angry at the professor for not being more helpful or sympathetic. I'm angry at the graders who lost two of my assignments. I'm angry at my poor sick boyfriend for resting instead of looking for my homework at his place in case by some slim chance it actually did end up there. But mostly, I'm angry at me for letting this shit happen to me. This was the course that I spent the most time and effort on. This was the course I liked, because I was learning stuff that was interesting and useful. This was the course that was difficult, but didn't seem too difficult, and I thought my grade couldn't be that bad.

Except it was. I gave it my all (ok. 90%. I refuse to give up sleep.) and in return I get a shitty grade and no way to redeem myself.

Fuck you, universe.

Thursday, April 7, 2011


I am going to take my suitemate's radio and stuff it down the toilet. If she were hearing impaired or possibly deaf, I'd forgive her for playing her shitty music so goddamn loud. But she's not. So I won't.

She takes at least two showers a day and every time, she turns up her awful music to ear-shattering volume and it pumps right through the flimsy wall that separates my room from the bathroom.

I'm confused in general by people who must have music when they shower, but I usually tolerate it because it's usually at perfectly respectable volumes. And hey, I like most kinds of music.

But any music, no matter what type, sounds like UTTER SHIT when played that loudly.


Friday, April 1, 2011

Definitely Friday

It's definitely Friday, and I'm definitely not sober. I hesitate to say drunk because I've only been severely drunk once, and anything less than that I regard as "sort of tipsy". Because I'm a girl and I can get away with shit like that.

Anyway, I caught myself doing that thing again where I write teeny blog posts by updating my status and then commenting on my own status in lieu of paragraph breaks. I find this a productive act of creativity, and besides, who doesn't like seeing long, rambling, non-sober status blogs in their newsfeed? But it's also sort of a waste because those things are hard to archive, and I'm nothing if not obsessed with keeping all my shit together.

So here's what I was thinking:

You know how people are always saying, in movies and TV and shit, how if there are aliens and they come to Earth or try to contact us, we should be friendly and inviting? Or at least tolerant? I mean, it's subverted in other shows like in V, or in earlier movies, aliens are just plain evil, but in general, there's this feeling that we should be tolerant. Just in case, you know, the aliens come in peace and whatnot. We shouldn't shoot up a store before we check if there's cash in the register.

It makes sense in my head. Fuck you. Stop judging me.

Well, my thought is, What the hell? Aliens? Shoot them up! Get 'em out of here!

Here's why:

We humans are pretty damn fucked up. It's 2011 and we still haven't achieved world peace. Far from it, in fact. Just look at all the shit that happened in this year alone, and it's only April. Most people, if not all, still harbor their own prejudices regarding race, sexual orientation, sexual identity, and some other shit that I'm too tipsy (ok, drunk) to form words for right now. If we can't even get world peace right, what the hell are we doing trying to be nice to aliens? We want to treat aliens better than we treat each other? What the fuck is that?

Fucked up shit is what.

I want world peace as much as anyone, but you gotta realize, things are complicated. People are complicated. We're independent thinkers, and most of us want what's best for ourselves and ours. Not many people (if any) are inherently evil, but most of us want to be in the better boat, and that means someone's gotta be in the shitty boat. We can't even make nice with each other; we're a long ways away from making nice with the citizens of another planet.

And that's why I hope aliens take their time getting here, if they're even interested in us at all. I mean, if I were an alien race that had accomplished intergalactic travel, I'm not sure how interested I would be in stupid things like humans. They might like our plants though. They'd take all our marshmallow plants. Bastards.

I've also discovered that I perform better on Angry Birds when I picture people I dislike as the green pigs. My internal monologue gets pretty ugly, but it's effective.

My elbows are getting numb, so I should stop typing. No one reads this thing anyway. Just me. That's the way it should be.