"NOTE: YOU HAVE ATTAINED SENIOR STATUS (>=90 HOURS) AND MAY BE A CANDIDATE FOR GRADUATION. PLEASE APPLY FOR GRADUATION IN THE OFFICE OF UNDERGRADUATE STUDIES IF YOU PLAN TO GRADUATE WITHIN THE ACADEMIC YEAR."
hmm...I managed to get this far without being aware of that; how nice of them to remind me.
This last year will just be mopping up the survivors, if requirements are survivors and taking classes is killing them. Lately, that has been true for me; I can't seem to get a C anymore even when I don't really try. (Haven't actively tried for a C, but that would defeat the purpose.) In fact, I waited to do this post until they updated my grade report, because before then the grades that show up on the site could change (never have for me, but I know somebody who knows somebody).
Three A's and two B's. One of the B's was in the 4-credit capstone, so it's weighted a bit higher than the other classes, but that's ok. I did my usual "kinda fuck up the first exam" thing, and there was only one exam, so I wasn't really in the running for an A. Based on the equation they use, my GPA for this quarter was 3.5625, which will be rounded to some number that will probably resemble this number. Maybe.
I've noted a parallel to many situations in my life: when I've got something "figured out completely", that means it's just about over. Individual classes. Work. Melee attack training. Other things.
I'm not sure how I feel about that. Everything has to end some time, and if I've already learned all I can use practically from a situation, there isn't as much lost when it ends. But...I've already described how I can value things above their logical value. (I'm not alone in that regard, just look at the rest of the urban community and footwear.)
On a related note, all the free time I've had lately has exacerbated some recent lines of thought - conscious and otherwise - I've had that have been very...unproductive. I think a week or two away from Cleveland (and, consequently, this blog) is in order. Maybe being further away from everything will let me realign myself correctly. Just thought I'd mention that so no one would think I wasn't updating because I suddenly died. Not that I couldn't still die, but that wouldn't be the sole reason for lack of updates.* They do have internet access where I'm going (DSL/Cable, even), but I don't trust their computers to not be full of spyware, accidental and otherwise. No one else needs any of my passwords or other crap; I don't even want them getting this URL.
Guess that's it.
*I consider this a more productive line of thought than the one(s?) I was talking about. Maybe "counterproductive" would be a better word, but I can't change it now. Well, I could, but it would fuck the whole code up and I don't feel like fixing it. *cough*
Took my last exam for the semester today; winged it, like the last one. Not as confident in the outcome, but hey, that's what curves are for...that, and...eh, nevermind.
What else? That's about it, really. No summer job to get ready for this time, so I'm going to spend the next 3-4 months remaximizing my ability to kick ass. (No target this time, but I have to stay ready. Always stay ready.) My reaction time isn't under 1/20th of a second anymore, and that's not acceptable.
That is all.
Once upon a time, there was a boy. He was a young boy, still full of the optimism that only a child can possess in great quantities. For some reason, however, a crippling fear had taken root in the boy's heart: he "knew" in his heart of hearts that his feelings of love were like a poison to the living, so he had to keep them inside, quiet. This is a somewhat tragic - and perhaps contradictory to the idea of optimism - position for the boy to take, but that is not the story we are here to tell today.
One of his best friends was the girl who lived across the street, more or less the same age as he. They had known each other since before either could walk, so they almost seemed like brother and sister.
This only made his sudden feelings weirder. Actually, he wasn't sure if they were sudden, or his realization of them was sudden. Either way, he was becoming anxious. He wanted to tell the girl how much he loved her, and how he'd do anything for her, but he was afraid that putting it out there in words would change everything. She wouldn't like him at all anymore. Even if she didn't completely reject him outright, things would never be the same again, and he wasn't sure he could handle that.
The boy eventually decided that enough was enough, and he was going to tell her. He couldn't just do it right then, of course; he had to gather up the nerve to reveal something so profound and deep (at least, it seemed that way then). He resolved to tell her that summer. On the last day of school, convinced that he would die if he didn't get this big secret out, he finally told her.
Shortly after that, the girl moved away. On some level, the boy was convinced that his revelation was the cause of this, so he resolved that he would not let that happen again. The fear became rooted more deeply in his heart, but he moved on, as we all must do.
Because of his new resolution, the boy was detached from his peers through the rest of his elementary and middle school years. Eventually, he reached high school, a place that houses more melodrama, life-changing crises, and existential angst than any place probably should.
On the first day of class, he noticed a lot of familiar faces, but there was also one that looked new. Intriguingly new. He couldn't stop sneaking glances at this new girl; he was sure she noticed but he didn't really care. She reminded him so much of the girl he knew back when he was a little kid, in both looks and mannerisms, that he had to scrutinize her more closely than he did the others to be sure that they weren't the same.
He eventually determined that this wasn't the same girl, but somehow she was interested in him. He put on a show of trying to push her away like he did everyone else, but they both knew it was just an act. In spite of this, he still couldn't find it within him to say what it was that he felt. He agonized for months in the way that only teenagers can, certain that the world would end if he made the wrong decision. Eventually, like before, his feelings grew stronger and stronger and harder and harder to hide, perhaps becoming even more strong than those he had for the neighbor girl so many years ago. He eventually pieced together an alternate rationale for what happened back then: It wasn't his fault that she had to go away. Things like that just happen.
Things were going to be different this time. He decided that, the next morning, he was going to walk over to this new girl's house and tell her how he felt about her.
He went to sleep that night thinking about how happy they both would be, now that everything was out in the open and they could act on their feelings. He noticed that the world seemed brighter that morning, and he just couldn't stop smiling. He stepped out onto the sidewalk, the brilliance and promise of the new day almost - but not quite - overwhelming.
With every step forward his happiness grew and grew, until he was sure he would burst. For a brief moment he considered the possibility that she wouldn't be home when he got there, but he banished the thought from his mind. Today was a good day, everything would go perfectly. She would be there.
He was killed at the intersection by a driver who sped through a red light.
The end.
Everything has started to warp and bunch together in my mind*, so I'm not sure what I was talking about in my last two posts. Relearning it would be a relative waste of time.
I took my final in the class that had an exam I had to run in late for and get out of early. I was only the second one out, this time. Got a 92, though, and I didn't even study half of the chapters. I just looked at some of the earlier ones (cumulative final...lol, cumulative.) and when I was walking through the building this morning, everything just clicked. Then, I understood all of the material, apologized for the horrid clicking noises I made as my mangled body fell to the floor, and hobbled into the room.
I needed to get 88 on the exam to get an A, so I could only miss 6 questions. I actually wrote at the bottom of the page how many I thought I had right, and I stopped when I answered all the questions finally. My final estimate was somewhere between 46 and 50, so I figured I had a two-question cushion.** Even though I was at the low end of my estimation, I was only accepting an A in the first place, so...I'm actually proud of myself. Doesn't happen often.
Some other stuff I could talk about, but I don't feel like it. Too busy being happy.
*If we wanted to look at that from a positive perspective, we'd call it cohesion, synergy of material, or something else with a buzzword in it. But that's not really what it feels like (even if that's what it is).
** *Becomes tired suddenly*
Note: If you checked in between 5-1 and now, you may notice a new post appeared out of nowhere. I wrote it that day, but it decided not to go through, so I put it back in place.
I think I kicked that exam's ass with its own ass. That's right, spacetime warped to the point that this was possible.
First one out the door.
Given these facts together, I probably got a low B. But hey! Optimism. Let's say B+, or A-.
The exam from the other day that I mentioned already, I kicked its ass in only half an hour. (Had to, time was short. Didn't have time to sufficiently mangle spacetime for anything spectacular though.)
Other than that, *shrug*. Last day of actual classes for my third year. One more to go before I have my degree. I am so excited...can't you tell?
Note: Blogger suggested "soapstone" for "spacetime".
