LSAT tommorow.

Nervous? Yes.
Crapping in pants? Pretty much.
Prepared? No.
Studied? Nada.

But let's look on the optimistic side. There are 101 multiple choice questions with 5 answer choices each. So that's what? Uh...does anyone remember their combinatorics? I think that's 101C5? Lemme plug that into the calculator. That's uh... Oh crap.

Chances of me scoring perfect on the LSAT: 1 in 79,208,745.

Do you know how impossible that is?!?! Ok. Lemme give you some other statistics for comparison:

Chances of me winning the lottery jackpot: 1 in 13,983,816.
Chances of getting hit by lightning: 1 in 600,000.
Chances of dying because of a volcano eruption: 1 in 80,000.
Chances of being murdered: 1 in 200.
Chances of dying in an automobile accident: 1 in 80.
Chances of going to prison: 1 in 20.
Chances of getting cancer: 1 in 3.

Crappy fish sticks. I'm up against big odds.

No wait. Hold on. Am I supposed to use combinatorics here? I don't think so... (You see??? This is why I suck at math/stats). Ok there are 101 questions. Each question has five possible choices. So I have 1 in 5 chances of getting it right per question. So you would think the chances are closer to 1 in 505. Hmm...is that it?

That's not bad odds, actually.

Heh. Who am I kidding? I'm still so boned.

Ever flipped through a dictionary lately? Perhaps you've seen the following definition in the latest edition?

UNPREPARED - un·pre·pared (adj.)
    1. without preparation; not prepared for [ant: prepared];
    2. lacking with intellectual equipment;
    3. not put in a state of preparedness;
    4. Dave has LSAT's this Saturday. (see also royally-screwed)

Yes sir-ree. LSAT's this Saturday.

If you have the time, please deposit/mail/send me your: prayers/vibes/good luck/well wishes/"get-well-soon" and "sorry to hear about your funeral" cards/or anything else you think would be appropriate. Would be much appreciated! Sorry no anthrax please.

Actually, if someone out there happens to have...I dunno...like a "(+10) Godly Obsidian Ring of Infinite Wisdom", sending that would also be nice too. :)

Ok on a COMPLETELY unrelated topic...

Dating survey: Do you think a man should open the car door for a woman even if he is parked in a stall between two cars? I used to say no, but Clara says yes. Your opinion? Write 'em in the comments...

INT. Dave's Body - Friday Morning : 7:32 AM PT to be more precise

Brain: "Hmm...I have an exam in about three days. Since I have a study session this afternoon, with Tomo, maybe I should look at the class outline to see what this course has been all about."
Eye: "Hmm...interesting. It says here we have a textbook for this course."
Brain: "What?!?! A textbook? Since when? I don't remember any textbook."
Eye: "It says right here...under 'TEXTBOOK' on the outline."
Brain: "Gimme that! Hmm...but I don't recall reading any textbook..."
Gut: "Oh crap. Looks like its gonna be one heck of a crap busy weekend."
Feet: "Brrrrr! I'm cold! Any socks people?"
Brain: "Shuddap people! I'm trying to think here! Memory! What did this textbook look like?"
Memory: "Zzzzzzzzzzzzz"
Brain: "Ok. We're boned."

A few minutes later, I logged onto Amazon.com and checked for the so called "textbook" and to see if they had a picture of the cover so it could jog my memory.

Memory: "Ugh. OH! THAT book. Right. Yeah, now I remember."
Brain: (Slamming Memory against a wall) "Ok wise guy!!! So where did you put the darn thing?"
Memory: (Shrugs) "I dunno!"
Feet: "Uh hello? Socks anyone? Doesn't anyone listen to me?"

After searching for the book for the next 15 minutes, we declared it as a lost cause.

Brain: "Ok. We can't find the textbook. We're so screwed."
Memory: "Don't look at me! I didn't lose it."
Reason: "Yawn. Usually I'm not up at this time, but I can't go to sleep with all this ruckus going on. What are you guys doing?"
Brain: "We got some major problems here. We got an exam on Monday, and we lost the textbook for the course. There are no copies at the library and Memory says we haven't read any of it. So, what do we do now?"
Panic: "I figure we should we flail our arms wildly while setting ourselves on fire with matches and gasoline!!!"
Brain: "Shut up Panic! This is serious..."
Reason: (Rubbing chin) "Hmm. Sounds like we're boned."
Hands: "Oh, oh, oh! I'll go get the matches and gasoline!"
Feet: "And, while you're at it...can you set me on fire? I'm still a little cold down here..."

Well...by the afternoon, I still haven't found the textbook. But on the upswing, my notes seem to be sufficient for study material. Besides, the prof keeps stressing that it's ONLY a test and that we shouldn't worry too much about it. Yeah whatever. I've heard that before...

Oh. I do have to write that poli-sci paper as well. That's also due Monday.

Yummy.

I'm sorry, nothing really funny for the update today. I just need to whine/rant for a bit. So here goes...

(Well, just to keep you occupied while reading, see how many times I use the word "ugh" in this entry.)

<whine>
Ok. It's close to the end of my last semester...and I'm totally stressing out. You know that panicky feeling you get when you KNOW you're totally screwed? Where your stomach does a loopy-loop and you get a feeling that goes like this: "Oh crap-o-la! I don't think we're gonna make it through this one..."? Or you know, that feeling you get when you're about to ask a girl (WAY above your league/pay scale) and you KNOW you're about to get shot down? Like what-was-her-name in elementary school? You know. The cute one with a winning smile, you had the crush with since the fifth grade, and she was all popular and stuff and (oh-how-do-I-put-this-delicately) you SO weren't?

Yeah, well...I'm feeling that right about now. I know, I know. It sounds like I'm such a big WUSSY. Ugh. I hate sounding so whiney! I do realize there are bigger things out in the world to stress over, besides school. But, it's my pathetic small world. And I feel like a little boy. I just feel scared and worried about the uncertainty in my future.

Not about graduating per se. I know I'll pass my courses and all that nice fuzzy stuff. I'm worried about getting into clown school next year. I'm worried because...I don't know if I can get in. In which case, I might actually end up going to REAL clown school. No joke. Sigh. Well...if I don't get in, I guess I'll just find a job somewhere and maybe re-apply.

I need good final grades this term--but I've been letting everything slide to the last minute, so my grades aren't hot. To make up for it, I need to do well on my LSAT, which I'm re-taking in less than two weeks, but I haven't been preparing...so fat chance of me doing well. Either way, I'm so boned.

On top of that, I'm tired. I'm tired of having been at my school for the past four years. Mentally. Physically. Spiritually. I'm so tired. I just want to lay down and rest and not have to worry about stupid trivial things like papers, exams and marks. I was chatting with one of my profs yesterday, and she said: "Dave, sounds like you're burning out. Are you sure you want to go off and start law school next year?" Oh great. Thanks for the cheers and confidence booster!!! I would have felt better if she had lied and said: "Oh...all students feel like that near graduation. You're just going through a phase thing." But no. She had to say I was burning out.

I'm not burning out, am I?

Well, I have been finding it hard to motivate myself and carry myself through this term. I just had ZERO motivation to do anything--I'm letting everything slide to the last minute, and indulging in my games of solitaire a little too much. So basically, I've been on "cruise" for the past 12 weeks. Imagine my surprise, when my professor announced yesterday in class that we will have an in-class exam next Monday. Next Monday. Already? What?!?!?! We have an exam then? How come I didn't know this earlier? Hmm. Don't I have a term paper due then? Oh my! Why, YES, I do!

And THAT paper is for a fourth year political science course--a course on the political theory of the international political economy (IPE). Interesting/cutting edge material, but honestly but I feel so STUPID in that class. It feels like I was airlifted and dropped into a graduate seminar. Everyone else in the class is doing a major or honours in political science or economics and I'm the only stupid bloke in the class with a history major. I feel like I'm in way out of my league. So while everyone else is up to speed on the OECD, trade regimes, WTO trade rounds, US-Canada softwood lumber disputes, the MAI, MFN's clauses in trade treaties, the EU, embedded liberalism vs. liberalism, hegemonic stability theory, regime theory, etc (just to mention a few topics)...I'm just sitting in the corner of class, whimpering and crying. I feel sooooo stupid. Not like I'm not or anything...but usually I feel more confident about my classes and the courses I take. In this case? I barely have any clue on what's going on. I just feel stupider than usual. Gawd, even my English has taken a smoke from the pipe! Ugh. I actually wrote "stupider". It should be "more stupid". Ugh.

Oh, my paper topic? Well, I'm going to be writing my paper about Gramscian theory in terms of international relations (IR) and comparing that to realist hegemonic stability theory. I have a bad feeling feeling about this one--I haven't really started, and I have no idea how I'll argue/approach this one. You know, how sometimes you KNOW you can just waffle out a decent paper? Well, this time I KNOW I'm so boned, it's not even funny. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh!!!

Meanwhile, my social life has gone the way of the dodo. I can't remember, for the life of me, when was the last time I dated. Or even went out for a night-out with friends. Or even saw a movie... Argh. Blah, blah, blah. This entry is getting too long.

Sorry folks. Usually, I don't sound this despondent, but today I just feel like I need to whine. I sound like a loser--well, more than usual anyway. Ugh. Now I'm whining about actually whining! How whiney is that? Ugh. Someone shoot me!

But I admit...all that whining felt kinda good. Ok I'm going off to write my paper and study for my exam.
</whine>

On a somewhat related note...found a quote by Antonio Gramsci, about studying:

"Many people have to be persuaded that studying too is a job, and a very tiring one, with its own particular apprenticeship -- involving muscles and nerves as well as intellect. It is a process of adaptation, a habit acquired with effort, tedium and even suffering."

How true, how true...

Ha! Every time Winnie writes about toilets and bathrooms, I just have to laugh. hahahaha. Gawd. LOL. *wipes tear from eye*

I dunno, there's something about toilet humour and pleasantries that makes me giggle. It seems strange to laugh at something that we ALL do, but I guess it's because bathrooms/washooms/toilets are a taboo subject that we never talk about in everyday conversation. Well not *normal* everyday conversation, a la: "Hey George, did you have a fun time in there?" "Why yes, I did! Thank you for asking! I had a wonderful time rummaging through your medicine cabinets!"

Bathroom culture, washrooms and all things related are avoided in everyday conversation--so when someone else talks about that, it reminds us: "Oh right! You take a crap too--just like me! Hah! I almost forgot." This momentary connection reminds us that we're all human...and I think that's what makes me laugh.

Keep in mind; the average person spends the equivalent of seven years in the bathroom. That's a lot of personal porcelain time...

While we're on the subject, I think I should talk about my most interesting bathroom experience--namely the first time I used a unisex. Incidentally a time I nearly lost control of myself...and not in a good way.

This was back when I was in Korea, two years ago. I was at some bar in Kangnam, Seoul, having drinks with a friend of mine. Whenever I'm chatting with friends, I always have a tendency to drink A LOT of water, esp. with my alcoholic drinks. So by the end of the evening, when nature calls, I really have to go pee. Anyway, I think I was on my fifth glass of water, when I politely excused myself and asked the waitress where the washroom was. She pointed to a set of doors down the hall.

I opened the door and saw a girl fixing her make-up at the mirror. Being a naive little Westerner, I was not expecting a unisex at all. (Apparently, due to lack and value of space, unisex washrooms are quite common in Korea). But of course, I didn't know this at the time. Having drunk some alcohol...I wasn't sure if I was hallucinating or if I was so tipsy that I walked into the wrong bathroom. Shocked, I immediately bowed and mumbled "mee-hahn-hey-yo" (trans. in English: I'm sorry!) and closed the door. I looked skywards, and cursed to myself: "GOTTA lay off the alcohol!"

I walked around looking for a second door but I couldn't find another door. This was the only door. *scratch head* Puzzled, I walked back to the bar and asked the waitress for directions to the washroom again. Again, she pointed to the same set of doors down the hall. HUH? *double scratch* A couple minutes had passed, as I was searching up and down the hallway for another "hidden" bathroom.

Meanwhile, my brain was starting to give me warning signals: "Core reactor at maximum capacity!!! I don't know how much water she's gonna hold Captain!!! If we don't drain the tanks NOW, it's going to blow soon!"

I only had a few shots with my friend, so there was no way I was THAT drunk. I reasoned to myself: "Perhaps, the girl was so drunk she had walked into the wrong bathroom!"

Yeah that must be it.

I walked into the washroom with new confidence. This time, I strode right in. The girl was still there calmly re-applying lipstick. A sexy girl I might add. Dressed in a tight black cocktail dress too. Nice legs. Hmm...

My brain started to scream obscenities and rudely interrupted my thoughts: "Forget about the damn girl! Core reactor meltdown in less than two minutes!!! Abandon ship! In an orderly fashion! Women and children first!!!"

The girl bent forward and turned on the faucet. The running water reminded me of how badly I needed to go. Then my eyes caught the urinal beside the sink. The urinal BESIDE the girl. Ah-ha! So this IS the men's washroom!!!

Then I noticed the feet underneath the stall at the end of the room. Feminine feet. In unmistakably, feminine pumps. It slowly dawned on me that this was a unisex. I shook my head and looked up and cursed to myself: "Only in Asia...and on Ally Mcbeal."

My brain interrupted with another urgent warning: "AHHHHH!!!! Captain! The tanks are gonna blow in less than a minute!!! Forget about the women and children first! It's everyone for themselves! Save yourselves, while you still can!!!!"

Call me conservative, but there is something very awkward about unzipping and peeing in front of a complete stranger of the opposite sex. Heh. Besides, there was no privacy between the urinal and the sinks--not even a small barrier! Ack! If I wanted to pee, I would have to literally stand RIGHT beside the girl. I decided that even if I had to go badly, I couldn't do it. So I tried to wait for her to leave. I gave her a weak/embarrassed smile as I checked myself in the mirror. Gawd!!!. She was still washing her hands. The running water! I was going insane...

I was trying my best to retain my composure, as I brushed my hair with my fingers. My fingers were trembling slightly.

I was losing control. Badly. My brows were furrowed in utter concentration, as I tried to retain control. I tried to think of images of shutting/closing water valves and knobs--you know, just like in all those submarine movies. To the rear of the ship, men!

But, try as I might, all I could imagine was depth charges, bursting water pipes, breached hulls, sinking submarines and uncontrollable valves wildly opening by themselves. I tried sending psychic messages to the girl: "LEAVE NOW!!! And for the love of God!!! Stop washing your hands!!!"

She slowly and carefully dried her hands on paper towels. I was dying. Literally. My brain made his last call to me: "I always knew we would probably die together--but not in this way! It was good serving under you Captain! I love you man!" The countdown was running down. 10. 9. 8. 7...

But, just like a deus ex machina ending, I heard a flushing noise and saw the door, to the stall at the end of the room, open. I could have been imagining things, but I think I heard heavenly music start to play as angels began to sing: "Hallelujah!" The woman inside stepped out and she nodded to her friend (the one who was washing her hands all this time). They walked out of the washroom together.

Women and their washroom support groups. Grrr...

If I thought I could run, I would have. Instead, I duck-walked to the urinal as fast as I could.

*Sigh* I think I almost saw my creator, that time.

Hmm...this reminds me of my older entry. This may sound hypocritical...but seriously, if I made it through that, I don't see how the guy could have pee-ed all over the floor.

And while we're on the topic of bathrooms, go take a look at Ryan Tong's webpage. He has a poll about how you roll your toilet paper: A) over the top or B) under the bottom. Well, of course it should be over the top! That way, the paper doesn't keep rolling down towards the floor! Like, duh! :)

LOL.

Hey there! Notice anything different?

Instead of working on the two papers that are due shortly, I decided to totally upgrade my site from "old skool" Newspro to "new skool" Moveable Type. Took me most of this afternoon to install and configure all the templates.

There are SOOOOO many things to fix up. First of all, I think the font is too small...and the some of the formatting is kinda off...but I'll fix those later. I shudder to think what this page looks like on a Mac. Hmm. Actually, I'll have to wait until all my exams are done in December. I really should spend the time studying, instead of tinkering with this webpage. Ugh.

The major reason for the upgrade was for easier backend management of all my writings, but also allow people to comment on my entries, like thousands of other blogger webpages. Aren't I so original? No? I guess not...

Heh.

Eghads! It's Christmas shopping season already! Mastercard is already playing X-mas themed ads on TV, and shopping malls are decorated to the hilt.

Already!?!?!? AHHHHHHHH!!!!

I don't even want to think about the holiday shopping season. I'm sorry, but I haven't been working for most of this year, so financially, I'm broke as a bad heroin junkie. Gift wise, friends and family are going to be getting a big helping of NOTHING.

I think after all my exams are done, I'll spend the two weeks before Christmas writing everyone, in my Outlook address book, personalized e-mail cards. But that's about it. All you mofo's have been warned...

I spent some time thinking of gifts I'd like from Santa this year. (Sorta a jab at those people who post Amazon wish lists on their sites). Heh. So without any further delay, I give you my "Top 10 Wish List to Santa for 2001":

10. World peace. I asked this last year...and like, hello?!? Nothing? What gives, fat man?
9. A date.
8. With a hot desperate woman.
7. Who was actually born a woman.
6. Superhuman powers.
5. A life.
4. Bus money.
3. Preparation H. Economy size.
2. Pork rinds.
1. Friends. Real ones. (And not taped episodes this time).

The way I see it...it all boils down to superhuman powers. If I had that, I could probably get everything else on the list by myself. So is that too much to ask? I don't think so... I mean, cuz I think I deserve it. After all, I've been mostly good.

Aiyee. Well, besides. We all know that I'm all that and a bag of chips...

Crushed stale chips. In an open bag. Ripped wide open. Lying at the bottom of the trash bin, that is.

Heh. Merry pre-X-mas.

From left to right: Lisa, Stewart, Jish, Rich, Paul, Danica, Pinder, Me, Melissa, Arm of Token Annoying Drunk Dude, Sam, and Tonya. Missing: Nellie.

Met up with a bunch of nice fellow Vancouver web-bloggers + Jish for drinks at Fox and Firkin. Anyway Rich and I ended up leaving first and we forgot to pay our drink tabs before we left! Aiyee. What a total bonehead play. Now Jish et al. are sending Guido to break our legs.

Well, I guess we deserve it...

Anyway, a friend of mine, agent M (as I now call her), just got pre-approved for a mortgage. My, my, my. A mortgage? Already? I would have thought we would continue renting for awhile... Boy, we're growing up, aren't we?

So what's next? Marriage? Kids? A green minivan with seating for seven?

When I saw an old high school buddy (who I hadn't seen for quite sometime), I was shocked that he had a receding hairline. *Gasp* I wasn't shocked about him having the receding hairline. I think I was more shocked because that made me realize how old we are getting.

I know. I know. 22 years is still young (as Cathy, Alice and Mike were reassuring me earlier). But here I am, sitting in my clean pajamas, reflecting on the past 22 years of my life. So what I have done for the past 22 years? I have come so far...but I've accomplished so little. I was writing a few personal statements last month, and I had to answer the "name one significant personal accomplishment that you are proud of" question.

Nothing came to mind.

So here I am, thinking of things I need to do for the next week. I'm checking off my to-do's in my Visor. So many more things to do before I graduate...but they're all useless little things. Not accomplishments. Just things that need to be done. Because they need to be done.

But things are looking better. I forsee huge changes in the coming year. So really, this is the calm before the storm. I guess. I'm looking forward to 2002 already. 2001 wasn't a bad year. Just that I can't wait for it to be all over.

Hmm. Why the hell am I in such a craptastic mood today? Ugh.

Gawd, this update is such a downer. Ok, I'll promise something brighter later this week.

Oh, before I go, I bought the Thievery Corporation "The Mirror Conspiracy" this weekend. Go take a listen to it. Awesome album! There. That made me happy.

OK this week is an experimental creative writing exercise, that I'm going to get y'all involved in! Talk about being interactive and neat-o! *sigh*

Anyway, in this entry I'm going to write the beginning of a true story from my life, and I want you to write a creative ending for it and then send it to me via e-mail! Be as creative as you want! Some space aliens could come down and abduct me, for all I care. Just come up with an ending for this story. Sounds like fun, right? I'll post creative entries (if I get any) in about a week or so.

So, why am I doing this? Well, because I've been too lazy (err...busy) to write anything substantial or funny lately. Besides it's your turn to have fun and make up what I would do next. Have fun!

And then she hit me with the next statement.

"I'm starting to see this cute guy," she admitted.

My stomach turned. "Oh?"

"Yeah, I should introduce you to him," she replied.

So was this "guy" someone serious? I asked.

"I hope so," she responded.

My mind spun like a stuck car caught in a snow bank...so what about me? Apparently I was just a friend. Not even a potential. Just a good friend. I smiled meekly and nodded at her suggestion. I felt sick. I walked her home and said goodnight. It was getting fairly dark, so I turned around to walk back to my place.

I felt angry. Not at her, mind you. I was happy she had finally found someone. But deep down, I had wished that someone was going to be me. I felt angry at myself because deep down, I knew that this was going to happen, but I had let it happen anyway.

A few blocks later, I changed my mind and a hailed a cab, instead of heading home. I don't drink unless I'm with friends, but this felt like a good time to get something. A time to sit with other strangers and just down a drink. And think. I told the driver to head to my usual place.

I arrived five minutes later. Rain was starting to drizzle down. I saw a several young couples, sheltering themselves with coats and newspapers, running for shelter. I got out of the cab and ducked into the bar.
I sat at the end of the room, close to my favourite bartender. She had a quizzical look on her face. "You came alone today, Dave? Where are your friends?"

I shrugged. "Not popular this week, I guess."

She laughed and opened a Heineken and left me to serve another customer. I wiped the mouth of the bottle and took a swig. I finished the bottle and she came back to see how I was doing.

I ordered a shot of vodka. She looked even more surprised...

Ok that's it! You just have to come up with a creative ending to that entry and sent it to me! Have fun!