Persians

Classical Studies. The bane of my existence.

If you come to my face and ask me if i enjoy (RIFQI SAYS HI. SO DOES NIKKKITA that's nikita with a triple k.) engineering vector calculus, i'll go off onto a tangent and find some kind of disconnected way of telling you that i hate it and that it's raping me in bum. But in the back of my mind, buried so deep that this is one of the few times that i'll actually come straight out and admit it, i know that it genuinely interests me. Vectors are just so freaking cool.

This is where i juxtapose classics and vectors.

Classics is all about wars and Greece and Rome and death and those crazy smart kings and leaders who seized power by outcasting their enemies and eventually having them killed and stuff all in the middle of huge interoceanic wars and the Persians disturbing the shit everywhere. Yeah. It sounds pretty darn cool because in your head you're remembering that scene from 300 where the deezed guy with airbrushed abs runs through some scrawny little dude with a wicker shield (honestly? wicker shields? i don't even trust my chairs to be made out of the stuff, why would you... nevermind) with his huge hundred-pound spear and there's blood flying everywhere and there's testosterone in your eyeballs and the whole thing is really freaking cool. I know because that's exactly what i was thinking when Taylor suggested that we take the course; "Yeah man, Classics? People killing each other and sacrificing virgins to their multiple gods? Sounds interesting" but somehow i manage to lose my enthusiasm in the actual course. It gets diluted so much that i would much rather be in vectors class learning how to turn cartesian into polar. Which by the way i still can't do after having studied the topic in about 5 different courses over the years... it's not that hard jubs.

I think what i want from the course is just all of the really cool details. I just want the prof to stand at the front of the lecture hall and show us pictures and stories of manly men that i can tell myself in my head i can beat up even though they probably would have weighed about three of me and could have taken on about three of me at the same time anyways. I wanted to hear more stories like Oedipus Rex gauging out his own eyes because he slept with his own mother cause he didn't know any better... what an idiot. What i don't want is what i'm getting which is the dry analysis of why every single detail. When learning about the Persian invasion, i'll be honest, i don't care what the bowls they used to wash their clothes were made out of, or what size the blocks of salt used to preserve meat were made out of (who would -_-''). People were fighting for their lives and we're talking about bowls and salt. Focus people, focus.

I remember back in grade 10 when i was studying the world wars, my teacher made it so damn interesting for us. He explained to us military tactics, gun models, carpet bombing accuracy and death statistics, all without numbing the class to the amount of human life which was actually lost during the time and impressing upon us the shittiness of war. That was a good history class.

I really hope my professor somehow stumbles upon this blog and takes the hint.

And i'm really glad i wasn't around during the Persian invasion. I learned that much.

Chapter 2: Party Hats

This is chapter two to the story i started way back in june. I kinda stuck the whole thing on the back burner for a really long time because... i got lazy? yeah let's go with that. Anyhow, here's the very short chapter 2 that i started back in june as well and just finally re-edited. Chapter one can be found here.

"You've never looked more stunning."

With a pale face, huge eye bags, and wearing an oversized hospital gown covered in dogs wearing party hats, it was hard to believe him. I had spent the last 3 days bedridden in this dull hospital room. Even past the recovery process, doing nothing was more draining than I would have ever expected. I had been sleeping sixteen hours out of every day, and in the few hours I was awake all I thought about was when I could go back to sleep next.

"Thanks, I try"
"Dogs with party hats though? Really?"
"Don't even. You wish you had a butt flap like mine."
"How are you feeling Lincoln?"

His face became much more serious now. He was genuinely worried and I could see it, and it wasn't just because this injury would mean he would lose his number one right wing assister. I knew I couldn't lie to him in my answer. Eric and I had known each other since late middle school. Nearly every bit of mischief I had ever been a part of, he had led me into. He could see right through me. I told him the truth.

"It's not going so well. The doctor says I got lucky but I'm still going to have to spend at least another two weeks in the hospital. After that, I might have to be in a wheelchair for a while and go through rehab; they couldn't remove the bullet."
"Come on Link, it can't be that hard to get out. I swear my dad has an extra chainsaw..."

Classic Eric attitude. When things get too serious, just throw a bad joke into the mix and hope everyone can laugh it all off.

"Eric. The bullet is lodged right next to my spinal cord. If they operate..."

He was already still but somehow he instantly became unbelievably statuesque. He was staring at a spot on the wall which was no different from any other spot and no more interesting. We both knew that a bullet next to the spinal cord was anything but good. Eyes still on the wall, he sat down in slow motion. His mind must have been buzzing.

Eric knew there really wasn't anything he could say to make either of us feel better so he grabbed the remot control and flicked on the TV. The news. A mundane reporter was going on about how a serial arsonist had finally been brought in but was pleading innocent. The accused even went so far as to say that he he didn't remember doing any of the crimes he was being charged for. What a load of bull. People thinking that they can cheat the system like that. The only thing worse is that they get away with it half the time.

"So I guess soccer this year is a no go..."
"Well we could always stick you in net. Even if you couldn't move you'd do a much better job than Jacob"
"Fudge you, Eric."

I didn't say fudge.

PEY

gds\\dfzrr\gg\ggg\sdsfRhdfg\dy\65666yzdfgdgfdgzdzssrrzgdwhsr\etrtwzh. gfdsh.

okay so that wasn't me... moving on.

It's just hitting me now that i'm going to graduate alone. Not that i wasn't aware of it a year before now but i'm kinda just realizing what that actually means.

Sadly the rest of my engineering friends are deciding to make the smart financial choice and take a professional year, meaning that in the year during which i would be doing my fourth year of studies, all of them are going to be going out into the real world getting real jobs, making real money and picking up real bitches and hoes, not the digital ones that i download. For some reason, i appear to be the only engineer who isn't convinced that I should take this extra year and so there you have it my friends, I will be burying my nose in super-thick textbooks during a year of fun for my colleagues.

At first i was kinda like "hey, that means i get outta university a year earlier than all of them. Oh ho ho, that makes me so much smarter and awesome than them. That means i can start my real life even sooner!" but then i realize now, why do i WANT to start my real life yet? I don't think i do... the day that i have to actually start working in a big company and start making money for someone else; and taking only a fraction of the profits for myself... i think is going to be a sad day. I much prefer pretending that i'm being a very hardworking student (BAHAHHAHAHAHAH) and hanging out in the library "studying" (studying in this context actually refers to busting out multiple laptops with a group of friends and headshotting newbs for 5 hours straight and being obnoxiously loud while the real engineers are nerding it up behind us and deriving delta epsilon proofs). I could "study" for the rest of my life. Life is pretty darn fun right now, minus the odd test that i completely bomb and then tear up and stick into an uncleaned toilet (by odd test i mean every single one, excluding none)(how the heck do the engineering toilets get SO dirty... honestly if you can write organized and clean notes, you should be able to do your business cleanly too.)

The worst part though is that i'm going to have to go through that whole fourth year all by myself -_- There will be no one to share my pain when i get, to put it lightly; ass raped and then executed in my quantum physics class of the future. There will be no one who will share the humiliation with me of being laughed at for listening to Taylor Swift full blast while studying. Who will get sick with me after eating low grade meats from anywhere that'll offer a meal for less than 4 bucks? The answer my friends (or lack thereof) is no one because they'll be busy with their BITCHES AND HOES and lotsa CHEDDAR. I honestly don't know how i'm going to make it through that year alive.

And i know that to some of all of the 3 of you who are reading this post, the idea has arisen in your mind; "why don't you just make new friends with whom the perils and horrors of engineering may be shared?". My answer is short and sweet. Nah. I'm too lazy.

HOWEVER. After all of this complaining, there is one truth that keeps me incredibly comforted. I'MMA GET MY BEAUTIFUL ENGINEERING IRON RING A YEAR BEFORE ALL Y'ALL BITCHES. SO SUCK IT.

Have a good night :D

Pee

I would just like to say that it's really awkward for me to hear grunting in the washroom.

I was going about my business at the urinal today when the men's room door bursts open and a fellow student comes bounding towards the next vacant pee station. His fly was down before he arrived and assumed the position, and the whole time, he was panting as if he had just run 3 marathons. He then proceeded to do his own business while continuing to pant. This was such an awkward occurrence that i actually stopped midstream to wait for him to exit the same room as me.

I feel like people near the age of twenty should have enough experience in bladder management that they do not have to sprint to somewhere before they explode. It causes awkward situations for any witnesses. That said, i am very sympathetic towards this poor soul.