Friday, April 11, 2008
Facebook wants to know: are you SURE you don't want your ex's baby-mama as a friend?
That feature won't last long, I hope.
"Your beauty is beyond compare
With flaming locks of auburn hair
With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green
Your smile is like a breath of spring
Your voice is soft like summer rain
And I cannot compete with you, Jolene"
~ "Jolene," Dolly Parton
*no, this isn't what happened, but it's entertaining to imagine nonetheless
"Your beauty is beyond compare
With flaming locks of auburn hair
With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green
Your smile is like a breath of spring
Your voice is soft like summer rain
And I cannot compete with you, Jolene"
~ "Jolene," Dolly Parton
*no, this isn't what happened, but it's entertaining to imagine nonetheless
Saturday, March 15, 2008
holy contentious decision
CBC NB: NB students won't begin French until Grade 5.
Whoa.
The comment board is a-buzzin, so hop to 'er. I have to sleep now.
Whoa.
The comment board is a-buzzin, so hop to 'er. I have to sleep now.
Friday, March 14, 2008
the love of the loved
Scene: DELIGHTFULLY SPRINGISH DAY. Our heroine, PRINCESS IVEYLOCKS, is ascending the slope of knowledge to obtain beer at the Grad Club with her compatriots. From the corner of her eye, PLEASANT YET CLUELESS DEPT. HEAD emerges.
PYCDH: "Oh, Princess! Yoo-hoo! Are you, too, heading to the Grad Club for dinner?"
PI: Shit. Or - maybe not entirely. "Well, hello there, revered august CDH! I most certainly am! And then I will dutifully return to my arduous graduate duties! I most certainly am working feverishly on this pleasant springish day! Work work work!"
PYCDH: "Isn't that nice. I will walk with you. How is your term going - I know we talked briefly in November about possible coursework selection, but I can't remember if you went that route - well, have things improved - I mean, how has the term been going? So far? Your classes? Or should I maybe not ask?"
PI: Cheerful, yet truthful. Upbeat, yet truthful. Optimistic... truthful...optimistic...
PI: "Ongoing! The classes are definitely still on-go-ing!"
Do I reek at small talk, or what? But "Great, thanks, all my classmates are mega-depressed and heavily into substance abuse to kill their grad-related pain because your profs act like mentally ill hyenas and/or just slavemasters and we're killing ourselves trying to rise above and inscribe relevance and read noble tomes and hell, getting out of bed is half the battle these days..."
Me? I'm not depressed. I'm the perennial Gal Friday on the Good Ship Lachrymosa. And I've just decided to put everything off to the last minute, working at my own pace. This functions like awesome! For example, I delayed writing a presentation* until the morning of, ended up crashing at a friend's place the night before (last call > last bus), flatly refused to present until the very end, and fell asleep during my own talking. Fortunately the prof had nodded off too. Thank heavens for small mercies.
Now I have to tinker with a few sentences, so I can hand in a term paper a week late. Yes, this class has two term papers. Naturally, I intend to have them completed well within two full terms. Completed, albeit rusty, rustic, and half-written in Russian.
Anticipated graduation date: 3078, assuming the department hasn't imploded in a fiery ball of rage by then.
*please note this class has presentations EVERY FREAKING WEEK, with little to no advice/feedback from the prof about our progress.
PYCDH: "Oh, Princess! Yoo-hoo! Are you, too, heading to the Grad Club for dinner?"
PI: Shit. Or - maybe not entirely. "Well, hello there, revered august CDH! I most certainly am! And then I will dutifully return to my arduous graduate duties! I most certainly am working feverishly on this pleasant springish day! Work work work!"
PYCDH: "Isn't that nice. I will walk with you. How is your term going - I know we talked briefly in November about possible coursework selection, but I can't remember if you went that route - well, have things improved - I mean, how has the term been going? So far? Your classes? Or should I maybe not ask?"
PI: Cheerful, yet truthful. Upbeat, yet truthful. Optimistic... truthful...optimistic...
PI: "Ongoing! The classes are definitely still on-go-ing!"
Do I reek at small talk, or what? But "Great, thanks, all my classmates are mega-depressed and heavily into substance abuse to kill their grad-related pain because your profs act like mentally ill hyenas and/or just slavemasters and we're killing ourselves trying to rise above and inscribe relevance and read noble tomes and hell, getting out of bed is half the battle these days..."
Me? I'm not depressed. I'm the perennial Gal Friday on the Good Ship Lachrymosa. And I've just decided to put everything off to the last minute, working at my own pace. This functions like awesome! For example, I delayed writing a presentation* until the morning of, ended up crashing at a friend's place the night before (last call > last bus), flatly refused to present until the very end, and fell asleep during my own talking. Fortunately the prof had nodded off too. Thank heavens for small mercies.
Now I have to tinker with a few sentences, so I can hand in a term paper a week late. Yes, this class has two term papers. Naturally, I intend to have them completed well within two full terms. Completed, albeit rusty, rustic, and half-written in Russian.
Anticipated graduation date: 3078, assuming the department hasn't imploded in a fiery ball of rage by then.
*please note this class has presentations EVERY FREAKING WEEK, with little to no advice/feedback from the prof about our progress.
Friday, February 29, 2008
dealing with the devil; or, what priorities?
Satan: Hey, dollface, you know what today is? ~*Payday*~.
Innocent pure myself: If you mean "pay (bills with no money) day," then it sure as hell is.
S: But look at the shiny numbers Mr Bank Account so proudly displays! They symbolically represent the fruits of your unappreciated, oft-derided participation in the workforce while simultaneously pursuing pointless academic studies. All those 4 AM alarm calls, braving wind, hail, drunkards, and freezing rain to venture to the chilly skyscraper -- missed revelry and lost productivity and increased blood pressure.... Costly, rarefied, pomegranate-flavored money -- ripe for the spending!
IPM: But I am kind of borderline academically.* Spending money earmarked for my savings account won't fix that. Today I need to study cultural imperialism's response to globalization theory. Not shop.
S: But, gosh, won't it make you feel better? Think of all the household necessities you lack! Wouldn't you be beautiful with freshly styled, ion-treated hair? How about a relaxing massage? Now's a great time to book a cosmetic dental appointment! Free market trade! NAFTA! Support the economy!
IPM: ... you work for MasterCard, Satan, don't you.
S: Shit.
IPM: It's ok. Me too. Are you the force that breeds gremlins in the systems?
S: Double shit.
IPM: Well, it's not like I have any power around there. Just take it easy on me this week, all right? No random system crashes?
S: Only if you promise to buy freshly roasted coffee beans, arugula, and hit up the pâtisserie on your way to the library today.
IPM: Deal. WTF is arugula?
S: Four words: automated helpdesk support - after-hours.
IPM: Ack! Fine!
*due to my overweening ability to misconstruct sentences! Or not even bother putting them together! Perpetually!
Innocent pure myself: If you mean "pay (bills with no money) day," then it sure as hell is.
S: But look at the shiny numbers Mr Bank Account so proudly displays! They symbolically represent the fruits of your unappreciated, oft-derided participation in the workforce while simultaneously pursuing pointless academic studies. All those 4 AM alarm calls, braving wind, hail, drunkards, and freezing rain to venture to the chilly skyscraper -- missed revelry and lost productivity and increased blood pressure.... Costly, rarefied, pomegranate-flavored money -- ripe for the spending!
IPM: But I am kind of borderline academically.* Spending money earmarked for my savings account won't fix that. Today I need to study cultural imperialism's response to globalization theory. Not shop.
S: But, gosh, won't it make you feel better? Think of all the household necessities you lack! Wouldn't you be beautiful with freshly styled, ion-treated hair? How about a relaxing massage? Now's a great time to book a cosmetic dental appointment! Free market trade! NAFTA! Support the economy!
IPM: ... you work for MasterCard, Satan, don't you.
S: Shit.
IPM: It's ok. Me too. Are you the force that breeds gremlins in the systems?
S: Double shit.
IPM: Well, it's not like I have any power around there. Just take it easy on me this week, all right? No random system crashes?
S: Only if you promise to buy freshly roasted coffee beans, arugula, and hit up the pâtisserie on your way to the library today.
IPM: Deal. WTF is arugula?
S: Four words: automated helpdesk support - after-hours.
IPM: Ack! Fine!
*due to my overweening ability to misconstruct sentences! Or not even bother putting them together! Perpetually!
Thursday, February 28, 2008
final kick at the can
(You know how it stinks to wake up in the middle of the night after a hardcore debatefest pleasant social event with a total ace up your sleeve that would DECIMATE the opposition?)
(see below post, or this Chronicle-Herald article for a terser recap)
And, seriously, what is the blinking point of being all "bilingual" when there is zero government-subsidized FSL education for adults in New Brunswick?!
(rhetorical pause)
No wonder English-speaking parents are hesitant to enroll their kids in French immersion; how on earth can they support their kids in learning a second language with little to no personal comprehension themselves?
(see below post, or this Chronicle-Herald article for a terser recap)
And, seriously, what is the blinking point of being all "bilingual" when there is zero government-subsidized FSL education for adults in New Brunswick?!
(rhetorical pause)
No wonder English-speaking parents are hesitant to enroll their kids in French immersion; how on earth can they support their kids in learning a second language with little to no personal comprehension themselves?
