Don’t be afraid to fail, they said. Don’t be afraid to fail, they said again when I retook the class.

The past

We’ve finally covered the first few classes. Now we’re only seven months behind schedule on this blog! And only a few years behind schedule on my education. But don’t they say that you learn a lot from failure? Maybe I’M the smart one. And since I know political science isn’t really a science, didn’t I learn all I needed to in second year? Who cares if I wrote a final essay on a topic that wasn’t an option…that doesn’t mean it wasn’t well-written. The poor writing indicates it wasn’t well-written. Professors these days are looking at things the wrong way. So are the TAs, from what I’m told by people who actually went to their tutorials.

I think this is all one big misunderstanding…I said to one prof. Unfortunately, I said that to the political science prof and not the philosophy prof. Had I said it to the latter he might have counted that as philosophical and not failed me as well. Classic mix-up.

I guess it’s kind of ironic that the joy I derive from writing is inversely correlated with the joy my profs have reading it. And the joy I experience in my program is positively correlated with the use of science terms.

So now that you know exactly how qualified I am to be a grad student, let’s get back to that.

And now that we’re back, I can tell you I’m still as lost as a gay guy staring at a sideways duck face.

But alas, I’ve only served to delve deeper into the past and I haven’t even made it past describing the second week of last September. Maybe I’ll just wake you up in a while, Green Day. And to make up for this mess I’ll just skip to the present like a happy Christmas morning.

The present

I know, I know, it’s not really the present, it’s just the most recent week of my life. I can’t log onto this thing every second, that’d be twitter, and I’m too busy on twitter to do that here. Conundrum. Hell of a cool word. Sorry, shouldn’t say hell in front of two musical Sisters. Although I think Whoopi Goldberg got away with it. A few times.


Yikes, take a deep breath. I just went on a tangent like The Situation.


Take another breath.

(No, not you, Situation, you can stop.)


Where was I? Yes, in the bathroom. Those first few paragraphs took a while to type, and Nature was calling to say they wouldn’t publish me.

Hey, here’s a question: How often do you re-read sentences because you think I made an obscure reference and just can’t figure it out? You don’t have to answer that, I’m already laughing at your silliness, you big moose. And in most cases you’re probably right. (That wasn’t one.)


That was two.


Anyway, the present, according to our newly modified definition:

Now that I’ve solidified my thesis topic and received the go-ahead to start writing my proposal, I’ve decided to take a road trip, naturally.  When the ripples cease, it’s time for a cannonball.

I’ll get into the details later, since I haven’t exactly cleared this with my supervisor yet, and since I don’t actually have any details to give you (the main reason for not telling you). Probably shouldn’t have brought it up; now you’re just curious and unsatisfied. I think someone needs to re-evaluate their sexual preference…

Okay, enough for today. I’ve ruined your sense of self and told you nothing of value, thus satisfying the criteria for my typical blog post.



Are erupting from my computer as I hit “publish” and head off to bed.

Here’s hoping to hear more cheers there.