Decompression.
I just completed the last homework assignment for the math class from hell. Luckily it was a take-home exam that has a substantial weight on our final grade. I say “luckily” because I was able to take my time, think problems through and use notes to complete this and it may keep my grade from falling completely down the garbage. Tonight’s question is, do people really still play with square roots and factoring? Why factor when you can google. That’s what I always say.
I discovered today that Professor Frightful and his cast of voices in the chalkboard do not have a sense of humour. At the beginning of class he reiterated that our final would be two days, this upcoming Thursday and Friday. Feeling rather bold, I asked, “It’s a take home final, correct?”. He glared and the voices said “no” in a crazy chorus. So I pressed, “oh that’s right, it’s open book, not take home.”
He continued to glare and I heard the voices in the chalkboard say “We are not amused.” The rest of the class snickered.
In all of our other classes we’ve had the opportunity to fill out the professor performance survey, in which we rate our professor and learning experience on a scale of 1 to 5 except question #14, in which we must answer “3” to prove we are paying attention. Why am I not surprised that Professor Frightful hasn’t followed the lead of his colleagues? Before class began two of my fellow students mentioned how they had gone to the department head to complain and he basically responded with a “sucks to be you.” I find all sides of the conversation to be quite daring.
Nevertheless, the college experience comes to a temporary end on Friday at 1 p.m. Then we’ll have fun fun fun.
Decorating.
Earl dragged me into the holiday season today by insisting that we begin decorating the house. So we cleaned the downstairs (tomorrow it’s the upstairs) and hauled the decorations up from the cellar. We’re going to wait until next weekend to put up the Christmas tree, but we began by putting up various trinkets around the house.
One of my most treasured decorations is the ceramic Christmas tree that I inherited from Grandma City. Grandma City was the bees’ knees when it came to arts and crafts, and she passed her talents on to various family members. Originally a gift to Grandma from her daughter-in-law, this tree sat prominently in the front window every Christmas season. When I see this tree I am easily transported to half my height and 30+ years ago, and all the excitement I felt with the arrival of the Christmas season. Having the tree in the dining room is like having the whole family over for dinner.
Among the other decorations we put up included a mini Christmas tree that usually goes on my desk at work. Since I’m not working full-time, we opted to put up the tree on one of the end tables in the Great Room. Chick and Cow dressed for the occasion and posed for the camera.
PowerBook Love.
I should be writing my last thematic paper of the semester. It’s due tomorrow but I haven’t felt sufficiently inspired to jump into a captivating monologue on “The Glass Menagerie”. I’m not worried about the task, I’ll have it done on time as I enjoyed reading the play very much and Earl and I are going to see it tonight. It’ll be our first theatre experience at the college.
So instead of working on my homework I ended up playing around with the camera and software on the blog. Inspired by a woman that calls herself iJustine, I decided to take a photo of my PowerBook and me. If you click on the picture below, it should open up a new box with the photo in a larger size.
My photos are always available on Flickr, but I like adding bells and whistles to the blog. Any future photos on the blog will be in this new format, so go click crazy.
BT.
With today’s radio waves populated with regurgitated junk, it’s good to remember that there are artists out there who can do amazing things with technology and still adhere to the principles behind good music.
My favorite song of all time, please enjoy “Remember” by BT featuring Jan Johnston. While BT continues to make incredible music through technology, this is one his earlier works. It’s from 1996.
Can’t Do It.
I was going to write a witty blog entry regarding Sherri Shepherd’s (“The View”) latest revelation. But that would just be mean.
Mandatory Muzak.
I’m calling for a law to be written immediately. I can not believe that somebody, somewhere has not called for this but I’m demanding for a regulation that requires owners of a public restroom to install Mandatory Muzak.
The company I work for part time recently moved from an aging building with a fairly nice men’s room into a not so aging building with a men’s room the size of a broom closet. In said new men’s room there is one urinal and two toilets squeezed into a tiny, tiny space, along with one sink and a monstrous paper towel dispenser.
I don’t mind using a public bathroom. I zip in, unzip, do my business and leave. I don’t want to chat with anyone. I don’t want to discuss the weather. I don’t care what others are doing. I just don’t want to listen to any of it. Not only do I not want to listen to chatter, I don’t want to listen to someone else attending to their business, and this includes any random moans or groans.
There is something very disconcerting about utter silence when you’re squeezed into a broom closet posing as a rest room with another man. As I’m standing at the urinal, doing my business, someone else walks in, shimmies around the paper towel dispenser and makes their way into one of the two stalls. It is then that I start praying for continuous intercom announcements, a random vacuum cleaner, jingle cats or a thunderstorm to cover up the lack of noise in the room. There isn’t even a fan to add to the white noise. I’m not going to pursue other issues associated with the lack of a fan.
The only drawback of having music in a public restroom is if a really good song comes on. You’re sitting and doing your business and “You Spin Me ‘Round” by Dead or Alive comes on. The music grabs you and the next thing you know you’re tapping your toe to the beat and viola! a Republican Closet Case is in your stall. I hate it when that happens.
We have suffered long enough with the trauma of a silent public rest room. It’s time to get our groove on.
What Snow?
We are in the midst of our first significant snow storm of the season. It started yesterday with all the sleet and ice, this afternoon it converted itself to lake effect snow and 35 MPH gusts of winds. School was canceled until 10 a.m. this morning. Unfortunately, my first class wasn’t until 11, but there I was doing the “snow day” dance I did as a teenager, hoping Mother Nature would let me spend the day home.
No such luck.
Instead I got to complete part I one my Surveying lab final exam. I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but surveyors tend to do their surveying outside. We were reminded by our professor that surveying doesn’t stop for the Mother Nature, or at least surveying exams don’t stop for Mother Nature, so there we were, bundled up in three layers of clothes, a heavy jacket, gloves and a dorky hat trying to determine the angle between the iced over cement pad in front of a doorway and the nut of a fire hydrant. Thank the universe it was cold so no dogs tried to relieve themselves as I stood shivering by the fire hydrant making like a target for my classmate behind the surveying gun. I had to dance around a few times so the person doing the measurements could make out my outline in the blowing and drifting snow.
I didn’t ace the exam but I think I did o.k. I think one of the icicles in my beard knocked the equipment when I was futzing around because I was off by 10 seconds. No biggie.
Next week it’s part II – equipment setup time trials.
Contrast.
Last week I was thinking of creative ways to burn my math book and slamming every door in the house. This week I sat down and spent three solid hours studying and patiently completing my homework. I’m delighted to say that no math books were hurt in the process.
Two weeks and counting until the end of the semester. Must. Remember. To. Just. Breathe. I figured the “Balanced Living” shirt from Dr. Steve would help me remember to stay focused. I was right.
