Well, it looks as if The Life Experiment may be taking a slight turn. But that’s to be contemplated over the next few weeks, so stay tuned, both of you.
1. Won a 1% bonus in class for performing a properly-butchered poem. Quite a strange scenario. But it worked out, because…
2. Costly class error: five pages per assignment, not for all three combined. Oops. I’ve come to the good old Occupy conclusion: I’m gonna need that 1%.
(more recently) Alright, The Dreaded Fall. I need to see what my thoughts look like when write them out for others to see (even though it’s already been a failed experiment in secret keeping for the last two weeks – thanks, Western).
I’ve been offered some decent moolah if I decide to do a master’s in Ontario in September. Which sounds great (no it doesn’t), except for the fact that I turned down a master’s in order to come out here in the first place. So in order to decide whether or not I want to be a textbook sell-out (although we all know I’m well into the red right now), I have to make sure I’d do it for more than just financial reasons.
I’ll finish this later; I’m already bored with it.
On Friday, my prof offered me no penalty if I turn in the other four pages of that assignment… But the first page took half a day, so if you carry the one, that’s my entire long weekend (May Long, as it’s called out here. Must be a native expression.) That and the 15 pages of script and half-decent song (let’s hope) all due Tuesday. And French too. N’oubliez pas. The original purpose. Purposa de numero uno. Nailed it.
Maybe I’ll celebrate the holiday by throwing a party for all the open house wanderers. Then maybe someone will get drunk and buy the place so I can get out of my lease!
Oh okay, back to the fun then.
Water Safety Rule #1: Whenever you decide to take a swim in the sea of education, “Jaws” always finds out. And Jaws doesn’t leave you alone either, even though you’ve moved 4000km away to pursue a different career, partly for fear of sharks. I still get chills when I see wading pools. And Richard Dreyfuss; for other reasons.
(Editor’s note 2013/04/10: know that your intended audience isn’t always your entire audience…my apologies)
Yet here I am again, considering a backflip off the 10-metre after bathing in fresh chum. For money. Yes, and many other things too, but including those makes it harder for me to convince you (and myself) that I shouldn’t do it.
At least this has to make you feel pretty good that you aren’t the one having to live with the decision. It’s like reading a weird book where even the author doesn’t know the ending. And it’s more than just a simple choice because it has some pretty important consequences. But those are just for me! Get your own impact.
I’d ask what you would do, but I’d rather know what you’d prefer to see me do, since that would tend to make things more fun and eliminate the overly conservative opinions. Like “F-35’s are economical.” Mmhmm.
I’ve broken it down in order:
If I go with my head, I’ll take the cash.
If I go with my gut, I’ll probably end up living in a van down by the river. Or eating a whole pizza. It’s late; I’m hungry.
If I go with anything lower, I’ll carry on the family name very soon.
Guess I’ll be flipping a coin.
And hopefully not burgers.
Does the van have AC?
Or Preppy at least?