justnick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Brace yourself, Concordia. The Oolong is coming... BGM: "Three Little Birds" - Marley, mon As Salaam alaikum, true believers. How goes the battle? Personally, I'm feeling a little... humbled, let's say. I went to my orientation the other day, you see, and it was an experience that only I could have managed in quite such a fashion. I'm wandering around the downtown campus looking for "HB-130," and I have to confess, not having much luck. This girl comes up and asks me if I know where it is, and I tell her I'm just as lost as she is. Pretty soon, we've got a bit of a troupe going around this place, scowering all corners. Still nothing. Security desk ho! So long story slightly shorter, turns out we're all at he wrong campus. "H-130," she informs us, is downtown. "HB-130," on the other hand, is most certainly not. Idiots. So we haul-ass to the other end of la ville and manage to get there only 25 measley minutes late. Oops. But surely my troubles are now over, I think to myself. Unfortunately for me, however, I'm a dinkus. The attendance sheet comes around, and I take a look at this bad boy. There's my name, and there's three columns. ...what? What the hell are the three columns for? Everyone else just put random letters. Hmm. Column one: specialisation. Nope, dont have one of those. Column two: program transfer. Nope, dont need one of those. Column three: Major. There we are. "Journalism." I write, and pass the sheet on. Hold on a minute. Of course journalism. This is the journalism orientation, for god's sake. God, you're such a weiner. So yeah, I was supposed to initial under "major." not write my major, which they obviously know. All this is to say, I not only managed to arrive a half hour late, but also fuck up my own initials. There's another guy with the same last name as me in my program. Jeffrey. Betcha he didn't screw up the attendance sheet. I get kicked out of the program if I fail one class, and I managed to go to the wrong building and write my own name wrong before the first day of class. off to a great start. I'll bet you it was all a test. "This one's an idiot, boot him." I'm going to stres about this for weeks, you realise this, right? OK, on to better, brighter things. What news do I have? Went to my sister's grad for the weekend. Lots of fun. Lots of drinking. Lots and lots of sweating. Spent a lot of time with my (follow me on this one) sister's boyfriend's sister. Still with me? Anyway, yeah. She's my age. Now, you all know that I'm a huge geek, so no point in denying it. I love comic books, sci-fi, and beer. At one point, she asked me if I had ever read my favorite comic book, cause she loves it. And that she'd rather be watching Star Trek and drinking beer. I feel like Seinfeld in that episode he meets Janeane Garofalo. Too obscure? No? OK, I'll move on. Still, though, kudos to my sister. I registered for classes today. I managed to allow myself to sleep in every day and have four day weekends. Unfortunately, though, I had to take a chamistry class to accomplish such a feat. No matter, though. I figure with any luck, I'll be engaging in chemical warfare with the neighbours in no time. Excelsior. 11:08 p.m. - 2005-06-14 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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