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Reading Lirael, As You Like It, The English Patient, Heart of Darkness, Suikoden III, Candidate for Goddess

Watching House, Rick Mercer's Monday Report, Gilmore Girls, Scrubs, Corner Gas, Aishiteruze Baby, Prince of Tennis, Hikaru no Go

Playing The Bard's Tale, Katamari Damacy, Curse of Monkey Island, Final Fantasy VI, Disgaea: Hour of Darkness, Pretty Barbie Dressup Party Final Fantasy X-2(group gaming)

Back-burner Star Ocean: Till the End of Time, Star Ocean: The Second Story, Final Fantasy Tactics: Advance, Baldur's Gate: Tales of the Sword Coast, Planescape: Torment, Final Fantasy VII

Obsessing Firefly, Erik and Ray, Impulse/Bart Allen, Ford Prefect, Monkey Island, Nostalgia.

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January 5 First day of classes
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January 16 Jaryn and Matt Are Old Day

Ninja and Roommate
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scented // midnight rain

Is by Meimi, that wonderful Goddess who brings joy and happiness to the hearts of Ingrids.
This time, Meimi brought joy by doing a layout of Isumi Shinichirou and Waya Yoshitaka, of Hikaru no Go. It is full of wub.


The first rule of exams is that we DON'T TALK ABOUT EXAMS
12/11/2004 11:02:55 PM
"With gravity slain, now we can fly!" - Fighter, 8-bit Theater.

One exam down, two to go. And that's all there is to say about that.

I'm rather irritated tonight, though, for varying reasons.

The first is, twenty minutes before an exam, if someone is sitting on the floor reading a book intently, and it is -not- the textbook, nor any facsimile of something that would be relevant to democracy in North America, do you think it is a good idea to talk to them? Talk to them at all, about anything, particularly things that should have been read for said exam?

If you say "Yes", there's a pack of very angry, very hungry sheep with razor sharp teeth heading toward your bathroom. They'll be hiding in the shower and toilet. Watch out.

I don't like talking about exams shortly before they occur - they do nothing but increase nervousness, as far as I'm concerned. I don't like talking about exams after, either, but that's another matter entirely. I bring a book to read intently before the exam so I can think of something else. It's like being in my happy place. And I really, really don't like being talked to, at close range, by an individual who I've labled since day one of this class as "creepy".

I suspect that he may have been attempting to hit on me in previous encounters, but I prefer not to dwell on that, on the grounds that I have no idea what being hit on entails, and that the prospect that the only time I have been hit on is by someone who radiates creepiness is rather discouraging, even for me.

Secondly, while I can understand the pure unmitigated joy of being done exams, I would appreciate it if the very happy gentlemen down the hall would SHUT THE FUCK UP since this is a building housing nothing but university students, and there -are- students who have exams until December 23 and therefore, perhaps, just perhaps, need their rest.

Thirdly, it's very depressing to finally get up the nerve to go into the College of Law to get -some- kind of information in paper form about applying, and finding the general office area locked, especially after I climbed up several flights of stairs. I suppose I'll have to go on Monday or something and hope they aren't full of hate then, too. Perhaps being legally opposed to the existence of Mondays. I should have gone on Friday when I was sulking around waiting for my Dracula paper to be returned, but when I went passed it was . . . full of people. People who's position, in relation to me, is an unclear thing. I fear people.

Of course, I also fear snakes, being outside after dark, public transportation, dolls, and what will happen if I get a serious injury while in my apartment that prevents me from, say, walking to a hospital or emergency clinic. Or, you know, the phone. Not that I know where the hospital or clinics are in this hellish city.

Then I start wondering how long it will take my body to start being noticeably smelly, particularly in the winter, when the apartment is so poorly heated.

Which, really, gets me entirely off track from the initial subject.

There's a fourthly, but I've found that giving vent to things in the subject of fourthly tends to result in some normally stable aspect of my life and relations spontaneously combusting and getting the resulting mess all over my good shirt for months after the fact.

To be frank, I'm not in the sort of mood to see how much of my life I can initiate the destruction of tonight. I'm just kind of frustrated and sad and tired, despite a length bath with Bertie Wooster Sees it Through and tea and ice cream.

I think I'll go curl up in bed and try to get some sleep. Sleep can be useful, although I've had a hellish time fixing my sleep schedule and falling asleep at a decent hour, lately. God bless books on casette. Although the poor things aren't running as well as they used to.

I don't think anyone makes casette players anymore, do they? Another relic of outmoded technology, I suppose.

Surrounded by reminders of a life out of the loop,
Ingrid, Signing Off

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Oh noes, it's the horror of exams
12/10/2004 10:22:13 AM
"Shit. That sandwich looks delicious."
"That is because I roll twenties." - Gabe and Tycho, Penny Arcade.

How I wish I had that sandwich right now.

But I don't. I have none of those things - except possibly bread. I do have info chips, though. They're Pringles, with random trivia questions printed on them. They're probably horribly unhealthy in more ways than normal chips, but . . . they were on sale, and I needed something to eat while studying this week.

My reaction to exams probably capitalizes why I'm rarely more than an average student - I just can't be bothered to care. Thankfully, my general apathy did not extend to -not- checking the university website for my exam times, because if I hadn't, I would have shown up at the education gym tomorrow before nine, and been very, very irritated to find that my political studies final didn't start until two.

Go figure.

But my reaction to political studies really proves the case when it comes to me and my rather horrible attitude to final exams. I'm going in to that exam with, I believe, 70% or so, which is good for me in a class that isn't English. I'd probably have to do really abysmally to actually fail, although the possibility is there. If, say, I sit down to write the exam and find myself incapable of answering a single question. I could also boost that mark significantly if I did well.

But I won't.

Because I'm not stressed.

Most people I know, many of whom are far more intelligent than I could ever hope to be, get stressed over exams. They deprive themselves of sleep to study. Me? I usually stop studying around the time the sun goes down. I probably get in four or five hours of studying time, and all I do is read over the textbook - because my notes are utterly illegible, even to me, assuming I could ever find where I threw them.

I tried studying really hard, studying like crazy when I was in first year. When I cared about school, when I still thought I had a future, and what do I have to show for it? A dropped calculus class, a failed organic chemistry course, an ulcer, and fairly mediocre marks in everything but English - the one subject I never studied for, the one subject I would cheerfully sleep through, or read a book during.

My first year of university taught me two things. One - everything I'd ever wanted out of life was a stupid, stupid dream that I could never have. And two - it didn't make a damn bit of difference whether I studied until my brain blew up or not. In fact, studying intensively and getting stressed seemed to do the opposite - the harder I studied, the worse I did.

So, today's my last real day to study for my political studies final. It will almost certainly be the hardest exam I write. And I will study.

For a bit.

But I'll also do my laundry and watch tv and play videogames and read and do a lot of things that aren't studying.

Oh, and as soon as I can bother to put a pair of pants on, I'll go by the university and try to get back my essay on Dracula.

Persistent when it doesn't make a damn bit of difference,
Almighty Ingrid, Signing Off

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