Self Inflicted Problems

As a joke, my prop for Steam-Con is going to be a steam powered wrench. As in a giant combination wrench (the non-adjustable type of wrench), to subtly poke fun at how many of these things we make and wear do not, in any way, need to be steam-powered. I'm working with the help of a gentleman-pirate that two of my friends know (they're also getting help on their props from this man), and during the course of figuring out how to build this wrench, I drew it on his workshop chalkboard. Because of this, he has come up with a plan and a design for an actual steam powered wrench that he wishes to design and build that has practical use (though certainly not over-sized like mine). He is ruining the joke in the most awesome way.

The school is doing two things that are screwing me up. They're screwing me up for reasons that are ENTIRELY my own damn fault, but they're screwing up up nonetheless, and in the stupidest way possible.

Good intention number one: We want every student to have a guide to help them take the classes that they need to graduate in the shortest time possible because that's what they want and that makes us look good.
Fantastically stupid method of enacting this intention: Advisers for every student (a very good idea), with advising holds to prevent the students from signing up for classes before talking to their adviser (a fantastic way of screwing this up).
How I am screwing myself over because of this: I fantastically suck at doing things outside of some specific routine. Hell, I suck at just maintaining a routine. Furthermore, for some reason, my adviser insists on students coming to his door and signing up for an advising time on a sheet of paper posted there, instead of via e-mail. I must say, this is not unreasonable. Any functioning person should have no problem doing this. There WAS a time before electronic communication, where stuff like this was the norm. That said, it seems completely impossible for my brain to wrap itself around the concept, and as with previous years I have completely failed to sign up until too late. He's taken the paper down. So ONCE AGAIN I must contact him and beg for a bit of his time. This usually means he ends up rushing me through a session, telling me the same thing that I can get off a piece of paper I have in my room, and ultimately not helping me in the slightest. Every time this time of year rolls around I swear that I'll sign up on time, get a timely advising session out of him, and get actual help on stuff I need to know about. Like how to double major.

Good intention number two: We want every student to be proficient at writing persuasively and arguing their point.
Fantastically stupid method of enacting this intention: You are not allowed to become a junior until completing a writing portfolio and having it pass some sort of grading.
How I am screwing myself over because of this: I took my English 101 class in my first semester, freshman year. At the end of my second semester (the spring semester), during or close to finals week, my English 101 teacher informed everybody that she was transferring to UW, and if we wanted to get anything signed by her for the portfolio, we should do it now. I was sick and tired of class in general, let alone her class which was ridiculously harsh (possibly to her credit, possibly to her detriment), and I didn't get anything signed. I also didn't (and don't) think any of my papers were good enough to USE in the portfolio. So I currently have exactly nothing to put into a portfolio that's due at the end of my next semester. My solution? I'm going to take a TON of writing based classes next semester. Having almost completely ignored my adviser's advice for the past two sessions, I don't think he's going to be too keen on this course of action. That said, I don't think he keeps track of my classes from year to year in the slightest.

So that's where I am right now. Steam-Con will be awesome, and I'll forget my troubles there, but EVERY SINGLE TIME something like this comes up, I realize I've screwed myself over far too late and I curse my own stupidity for not being more paranoid. This has been going on for years and it's only getting worse, despite the advise and support of literally everybody I know.

Deal

High above in his impeccable tower of steel and glass sat a man wreathed in shadow at the end of a long dark table in a room of great importance, his head in his hands. Desperately he scanned the numbers on the papers around him, streams of data that may have well been raging rivers to drown him.

The click, clack of the visitor's shoes broke the silence like bad news. If the door had opened, the light from the hallway would have streamed into the room, perhaps lighting upon some simple miracle to save this man, but that would have been too simple.

"Not yet," the visitor thought.

"Having fun are we?" it spoke. The ragged man's head lifted from it's torment just enough to give an acid glare at the visitor.

"I'll take that as a no then," it said, and smiled. "I know I'm supposed to enjoy the subtleties of torment, but even after so long, I do love watching such a complete failure in His design as you."

"This was YOUR doing! GOD DAMN IT DON'T PLAY COY!"

"Haha," it laughed. "No I had nothing to do with it. I'll be honest, and don't take that lightly.

"I never once made plans against you. I honored our deal with no ill designs, no tricks, no loopholes or devious devices. I went out of my way to help you. Know that. No you are perhaps the only human being to ever receive my true blessing and honest help, and you are such a complete and total failure that you STILL manage to fuck it all to.. hell." It chuckled at that last addition.

The ragged man's rage died down quickly, and he settled painfully back into his chair.

"So what now?" he asked. The visitor simply leaned on glass wall of the window and stared dreamily over the city.

"This it?" he prompted, but silence settled in again.

"You here to collect on our deal?" His mumbled sarcasm did little to hide his fear. The slightest twist in the visitor's face betrayed a smile before he shifted to turn towards the ragged man.

"No."

Slowly, the ragged man shuddered and shrunk in his chair. His hands weakly cupped his face in his palms, and for all the life of him he wished he could cry out.

"No," continued the visitor, "that would be too simple, though I'll admit I'm hardly here to offer help. You've still got a way to go. I'm just here to tell you that it's not too late." And at this, the man turned smoothly and walked out the door, throwing it wide so the warm glow from the hallway touched upon the collapsed, shaking form at the end of the table.

Bad Times

Had a low-key Halloween (despite what certain Facebook statuses may have said). Ended up staying up far too late playing video games with Richard. All in all a success.

It shouldn't surprise that I haven't posted in a while, blah blah blah should post more often.

I haven't been feeling up to posting lately because I've got nothing really good to post. I'm worried I'm going to fail Chem, Calc and Japanese, and this really bothers me. Chem is hard, but I think I've got a handle on things now, they're regular and I'm understanding the content. That said, I did absolutely terribly on the last exam, and I can only hope my grades are good enough to make up for it (though my grades aren't the streams of A's I'd like them to be). Japanese is my own fault. The homework is like 80% of the grade, and it's super easy, but it's also regular and frequent, and that's not something I can deal with apparently. Japanese is my current battle.

What's REALLY scaring me (aside from everything) is calc. Calc is hard. This is not something I'm used to. I'm not bad at math, during tests, I used to be able to reliably derive whatever I didn't know or remember from what I did, but that's stopped working. Now, the math is nothing BUT little tricks and rules you have to remember in order to deal with the various types of things they can throw at you. It's not all connected, it's drawing from a million and one different places and I can't see where everything's coming from immediately. I've done very poorly on the last two tests. Worse, I actually studied for the last test and I still got thrown! I'm worried.

Aside from that things seem to be going well, especially since Terry randomly cleaned and rearranged the living room. I say "cleaned," but I should really say "reclaimed." Charlie has a tendency of treating that room like it's his room, and leaving his stuff everywhere. Terry and I have decided that whenever Charlie leaves his stuff lying around, we're going to put it in the closet, where Charlie has free reign, as Terry and I keep our coats and shoes in our rooms. I'm really happy with how the room looks now. Aside from being really truly CLEAN (and not just Charlie's idea of "livable"), it's been rearranged so that there is MUCH more space. The corner where the TV lives has been compacted, and although the users are much closer to it, the TV is rather small, so it still works fine. The computer in the corner has been given the large (and especially comfortable) chair, so that not only makes using it that much nicer, but also puts the chair someplace out of the way, and the bean bag chair has been stuck some place out of the way (because bean bag chairs are the least comfortable and most annoying piece of furniture possible). What this all adds up to is a full half of the room has been devoted to the table, which not only gives lots of room to maneuver around it (where before there was scant), it also makes having people over (which we do very frequently) MUCH more comfortable.

In the strain of further good news, Clinton and I have set up a regular meal schedule. Really I should say I joined his meal schedule, because he'd been making regular... "meals," only I didn't know because he didn't tell me. So far, I've gone one week, and this one I missed both days...

I'll take comfort in the knowledge that life is a continual battle, and that while some fronts may be pushed back, others will have caved in. I just need to take care of these issues before it's too late (I just hope it isn't already).