"But then there's always some kid, who has a sucky life, but then he's visited by someone from a hidden world of awesomeness, who explains to the kid that the kid is the chosen kid, and everyone is waiting for him, to fight, and to win, and to accept treasure, and to accept love, and to rule the hidden world of awesomeness like the handsome little asshole that he is. Happens all the time, right?"

I was awarded a Tuition Exchange grant.

In essence, I am no longer paying tuition. I am one happy badger.

I am now in Rhode Island.

Anyone for a barbeque?

The worst is over.

I handed in my second in a series of week-late papers today. Now all the remains is to write the scandalously late concert reports, study for finals and then take finals. Then a glorious week off in Rhodes Island (which is neither Rhodes, nor an Island, and all it's "s"'s are conspicuously silent). Then begins the summer quarter.

Everything will have reached a point of equilibrium when I find that my flights of fancy add momentum to my schoolwork. That will take some doing.

Here is an amusing experiment.

Sure it's a link from Penny Arcade, but it's here if you missed it.

...yep.

I have discovered

this

I deserve all the credit!

Say what you like about Beethoven's Fifth and Ninth Symphonies.
The Seventh is the best.

All I want to do is sit on the couch with impeque , eat grilled sandwiches and play Armored Core: Last Raven until my thumbs bleed.

Luckily that is all that I have been doing with such free time as I have. I will not be content until I return to that state. Finals are a brief interruption where, in the wee hours of the morn, I am wedged into a smaller than usual classroom and forced to dredge the contents of my mind out into short answer questions.

I'm really good at that part.

Math will strike tomorrow, hurling flaming debris in parabolic arcs. I am defenseless, having neglected my mathematical studies in a stunning homage to my former behavior patterns. Here I should be listing the excuses; the stresses of the quarter, domestic management, work pressures. In reality, this is nothing more than a resounding lapse, and it's going to cost me direly.

Not so direly in the GPA sense, although it sure doesn't help to bomb a class like this. Rather, it marks  the first dip in my upward rise with my problem subject— and not because of a lack of comprehension, simply a lack of discipline.

Oh well, next quarter will be very different. Not leastwise because I can't fit a math course into my schedule. I'm two courses away from tying away a Psych minor  and being done with this business once and for all. So my classes next quarter are all quite relaxing... Tai Chi, Classical music, Science History. It'll be like a vacation that I get credit for!

Wait until the summer, math. Then I shall meet you on the field of battle.

If only I could send instructions back in time to an earlier self, detailing how it is possible to succeed academically through sheer glibness.

Someone should notify Churchill,

BEFORE	AFTER

I have just ironed my curtains.