Address change

I just have a few minutes. The truck is at the door, the men are waiting. It's moving day and I have so much to do.

For greater exposure and features I am moving my blog to Wordpress. The new address is http://oldfartschooldays.wordpress.com

I hope you'll join me there.

James m

Milkshake

Welcome to the Milkshake School of Bus Driving! By the time you graduate from this class you will have a clear understanding of all the skills you need to operate a Calgary Transit bus - including, but not limited to:

- Taking tight, sharp corners much too quickly
- Jamming on your brakes, much too hard, with a good, solid, head-snapping jerk at the end
- Slamming down the accelerator needlessly hard to pull away from the bus stops
- Creating the perfect surly demeanor
- Not saying hello, goodbye, or even "kiss my ass" when your passenger says good morning
- Getting and keeping the seats filthy for the greater discomfort of your passengers
- Keeping the bus much too hot
- Jerking the steering wheel left and right - an absolute must
- Aiming for the really good bumps - to really put the suspension to the test
- Helping your passengers spill their coffee, effectively and efficiently, and frequently. Coffee's bad for you anyway.
- Creating appropriate levels of uncertainty and despair
- Scaring the shit out of other road users
- Driving like a lunatic so you can stop further up the road for a smoke break
- Smoking right where you know your smoke will waft inside the cabin
- And much, much more...

At Milkshake, we're happy to teach you the fine art of being a menace on the road. Just bring your attitude and a full pack of smokes, and we'll provide the frightened passengers.

Graduation is after our morning break today, so make sure you're there or you'll have to take the class again this afternoon.

Workload

This has been a long day, undoubtedly made a little longer by my best friend/chauffeur who - as he dropped me at the curb this morning - said: "Wow! A twelve hour day today - that's pretty long." To which I replied: "Thanks, in my mind I had successfully split it into two sixes, but now that's all forgotten. Thanks."

The truth of it is that the first six are a given anyway, so, rather than think of it as twelve hours I had convinced myself that it was actually only six extra hours - thus making it a little more palatable.  And of course, the indelicacy of my chauffeur did not change the reality of this, though I was a little perturbed at the time. 

I just finished my Mandela assignment, which was an rhetorical analysis of his inaugural speech from 1994. I always hope I have provided what fearless leader seeks, but ultimately it comes down to my interpretation of his written instructions. That's where I hope that my comprehension of his rhetorical expostulations is apropos. Or words to that effect. Anyway, it's done. I'll do a final reading tonight before printing it. 

Tomorrow I'll launch into the next three. In all honesty, until I came back to university I thought a month was a long time. Now I know that it's not. Still, this teaches the students about deadlines, doesn't it? Something I know quite a lot about. And about prioritizing - figuring out which assignment is the most critical at any given moment  In the insurance arena my customers were my assignments - I would invariably figure out how high a priority they would be in our very first conversation.

Sometimes from the workload I swear these educators don't realize that we're taking more than one course. But then, that's the same as bosses, isn't it? And customers! 

I'm going to do the math on my reading for this semester: how much there is, how long it should take and so on. See if I can get close to the feasibility of doing it all, because I swear - sometimes all the assignments feel un-doable. They're not - but they feel that way.

Co-op Program

Accepted.

I didn't have a lot of doubt, of course, but realism must always play its part in the emotional equation. If the Co-op program had fallen through I would have had to find another way to secure my experience, but being enrolled will definitely have its advantages.

In the Co-op program a student goes through the process of applying for "summer" jobs, then, once accepted he goes to work - doing the things he is learning in class, working (and networking) with people in his chosen field, being graded on his efforts by his employer, and gathering useful work experience for his resume.

Being enrolled gives access to resume assistance, to interview practice and procedure, and to a Co-op-specific student job board. In the ideal scenario the student gains experience, learns about his chosen field in the real world - not just the halls of academia - earns money to pay tuition, and makes friends.

I have been a little conflicted about it all, of course. Part of me feels that the spirit of the program intends it for young people, but really that that's just my sense of the universe at work, so I dismiss it. I am eligible, so why wouldn't I apply? Besides, in career transition my needs are as great as the youngsters' - perhaps even greater - so it's actually a no-brainer.

The first workshop is this afternoon and I am looking forward to it.

Distractions

The first assignments are just about coming due. Yesterday I plugged away at the Mandela thing, did some reading. I feel things slowly ramping up but there's no urgency yet. By this time next week I'm pretty sure I'll feel it, though.

There seems to be a bit more group work so far this term, and the marks of two classes appear to be heavily dependent on it. This is a little disconcerting since it can be difficult to divvy up the work appropriately, with folks' various talents leveraged and the work assigned evenly. We will see how that works out in the long term. Hmm, seems a little like management to me. I suppose as the reigning old fart I must assume a key role in this.

My best friend continues with his radiation therapy, with side effects now coming on full bore. I wouldn't be in his shoes for anything - although it could be worse: he could be enduring chemo. This is all a major distraction at times as I worry for him and try to stay positive without being trite. "Stay positive" I say. "I'm positive it hurts" he replies. Thanks to his treatments I've taken to doing jigsaw puzzles again - they are very therapeutic. I work on them in the hospital when I'm with him for his treatments, and on the bar at home in the basement to wind down in the evening.

Time passes so quickly when you're working a puzzle: "just one more piece, ooh just one more piece, there's one, just one more." Always just one more piece, and before you know it it's 11 o'clock not 10, and you've lost an hour of sleep. Oh well, it's therapeutic.

It's all good.

Camaraderie

The return to school following the Christmas break has been most interesting. Of course, I'm still much older than most of the other students here - they aren't catching up or anything - but that doesn't seem to bother the ones who were in class with me last semester. In the hallways, in the classrooms I've seen more smiles of happy recognition since coming back than I think I have seen for many years. It's great: there's a real sense of camaraderie which just would not develop if the kids were leery of me. This tells me I'm doing something right.

Anyway, how could anyone be afraid of me? I'm jolly. I'm jovial. I crack funnies and lighten the mood. I believe that there is no productivity in a comfort vacuum, so why not make everyone comfortable? Employers, I am available as a consultant.

In class this certainly translates well. You undoubtedly remember from your own experience those pregnant pauses when the teacher has asked a question - but nobody wants to say anything because they're not quite 'in the groove' yet, or they fear saying something stupid. Well, (within reason, of course), I will always say something to get things rolling - to break the proverbial ice. At my age I have no business being shy. The kids are nervous, that's completely normal, but my willingness to stick my hand up and say something - anything - to get the dialogue moving has proven useful on more than one occasion.

The difference between this semester and the last one is in the courses. First, I'm taking four, not five. This will open up some study time that just wasn't there before. Of course, here I am, using some of that new-found study time to write this little blog, but that's okay - this hones my writing skills and ultimately creates a better overall package. 

Second, the courses this semester - with the exception of GNST which is continuing from the Fall - are all in communications. I'm very happy about this because it leads to information overlap, which is an excellent way to learn - each course serving to reinforce the material of the others.  

The readings are piling up nicely. I suspect however that this term will see most of the reading dispatched over the first few weeks so I am making a determined effort (in between blogs) to keep up with the reading and even get ahead of it. 

This is the stuff of life, isnt it? Striving - striding forward - always working toward knowledge and our own perfection. Perfection is quite unachievable, of course, because it is in the eye of the beholder, but isn't it the effort that counts?

Creaks and Groans

Ok, so I'm back in the proverbial saddle. The warm Christmas weather has gone south (literally and figuratively), the wonderful, relaxing, rejuvenating, regenerating respite of the Christmas break is now long since forgotten.

It's week number one. I've enjoyed first and second lectures in all my new courses but one - and it looks as if they're all going to be fascinating to me. The best part, though, is that the knowledge in the courses is overlapping. The rhetoric course teaches some of the same points as the Public Relations course, and so on. This is the very best way to study. It's reinforcement - what we used to call "revision" in my youth - and is an absolute must, and it is all the more effective if it's not saved only for the last week before exams and quizzes - it should be ongoing, continuous reinforcement of concepts and facts.

I don't suppose I look it, but I feel smarter than last semester. I have a better idea of what the teachers are up to, and what they expect. You'd think I'd have that down from my last degree, wouldn't you - but you'd also be surprised what you can forget in twenty years.

I attended the Co-Op interview. Interesting, interesting... Good questions, good answers. Bright, young students, careful, concerned - oh, and me. I have an advantage over the youngsters, though. I know that they were very nervous about the interview, but I wasn't. Clearly, I've been through that kind of thing before - and in the scheme of things that particular interview ranked quite low on my stress-o-meter. Aside from anything else, as the ranking old fart in the room (including the interviewers!) I have absolutely no right to be nervous, so I was my own relaxed, ebullient self - I answered my questions clearly, with lucidity and aplomb, and even chimed in to ensure there was dialogue where it felt like it might flag.

There was one girl - no names (actually I don't remember it) - a sweetheart, really, a slip of a girl, very pretty, with all sorts of earnestness and enthusiasm. She seemed very nice to me, but in part of the answer to one of her questions she actually went out of her way to downplay the importance of the part-time job she works at. She said "It's really not all that important, is it?"

Okay, now this is a fundamental interview error - I know this to be true - and as the resident old fart I made a point of drawing everyone's attention to the enormous importance of first-rate customer service skills which you learn in a job like hers. The interviewers both agreed with me and we moved on.

Afterwards, though, on our way out the door I asked the girl if she minded a little advice - she said not at all so I suggested something that would help her in the future.

Using my best, most eloquent Toastmaster happy-sandwich evaluation method I told her that she came across very well in the interview, then re-affirmed that she should never sell herself short, then reinforced that she clearly has excellent communication abilities. I told her that - for the future (because she was very good today, no problem) she should be sure to emphasize only positive aspects of her experience - that she should learn to think of mundane things in glorious terms.

The poor girl burst out crying! I couldn't believe it! She burst out crying. I apologized left, right, and center - I really had been gentle and diplomatic, and I really had only meant the absolute best for her. My motives were 100% pure, and yet there she was - crying!

I kept apologizing. I asked her why she was crying (I really could not conceive it). She was crying so persistently that for a while I actually couldn't get a word in. Finally I was able to calm her down a bit and explain again that she had done very well indeed in the interview, my thoughts were only for future reference. There she went again.!

Omigosh, what to do? What to do? I have never seen anything like that in my life. Ultimately we parted company. I watched her walking down the hallway, snuffling all the way to the first corner, and away.

I don't think I said anything inherently wrong. On analysis of the moment I think there may (must) have been something else at work that elicited that kind of reaction. Even so, I felt absolutely rotten to the core.

Rotten. So rotten that I stewed on the incident for at least 20 minutes before I realized that I couldn't let it lie. So I returned to the interviewers and was lucky to find them still working in their office. I explained what had happened, explained that I sincerely hope that the poor girl's marks are good enough to get her into the program because if they aren't it's going to be like some kind of personality-reinforcing horror for her and she's going to hate me for the rest of her days.

I'm glad I got it off my chest with the interviewers. They thanked me for sharing the story and told me not to worry about it, which is all well and good but I'm still blown away by the poor dear's reaction. It would simply never occur to me that anything I could say to anybody would make them cry, so her reaction was a real shock.

Anyway, I have moved on because I must. Results? I won't know that for a couple of weeks. I haven't heard from the recruiter since before school started again, so I'm not assuming anything there. Life washes over me and I watch it happen.

J

Resumption of innocence

And we're back.

School is in again and I've had my first class in Rhetoric. It looks like it will be quite stimulating - no rote learning, per se - rather class participation and many smaller assignments. I've already read the first eight chapters of the text book and I must say it is very well written - humorous and inculcative - what better combination can there be?

With the first semester now well and truly out of the way I am looking forward to getting stuck in to the new material. All the courses except General Studies are now core communications courses, which means they will be more focused, and they'll overlap somewhat. This will be most useful. Additionally, with the first semester under my belt I am educated once again on expectations and styles. I don't think there will be any surprises this time around.

Resolutions? I resolve to be more ahead of my reading assignments this time - that is one thing that will bite you every time. I'm also going to start my written assignments earlier. I wasn't late with any of them last semester, but there were a couple of times when I had to 'hustle my buns' to get the thing done: admittedly a little too close for comfort.

My Coop interview is tomorrow. I don't know if I'll be accepted for the program, or not. Obviously I'd like to be - a little off-season income would certainly be nice - but it's not the end of the world either way. As of right now I'm a dedicated student, with my nose buried in my books and a determination to match.

J.

James m

Http://oldfartschooldays.blogspot.com

Veggin'

Rest. Relaxation. Vacation. Holiday. Time off. Time off for good behavior. Quietus. Whatever you call it, it's nice to be able to just veg for a while. 

I really feel for those who are still writing exams. I mean, how can you effectively decompress over Christmas with an exam on the 21st? I'm just glad that I got my stuff over with right away. 

I applied to the coop program prior to December 1st as required. Now I've registered for my interview (January 10th) and there's a mandatory workshop at the end of January for those who are accepted. Gee, I hope I'm allowed in. I can't see any reason why I shouldn't be, but you never know...

I actually met with a recruiter on Sunday and had a nice little chat about things. Karen - obviously smart and intelligent (Hi Karen!) seems convinced that I have some advantages over the other 'kids' in that I have experience in the workforce and am a mature individual. I reinforced this of course with a reminder that I am a self-starter, well-organized and most enduringly compassionate about problems when they arise. I think on my toes and have a good sense of how to empathize with people in difficult times. I honestly think I'd be a great fit for PR - I have a lot of related skills. We discussed things in great depth, and I realized that I really wouldn't mind the chance to work a little while I'm doing this studying. Truth be known - as my mother has reminded me - I worked all the way through my last degree and still managed to make the Dean's list, so I'm sure I could do it again if the opportunity arose. Of course others gleefully remind me that I'm older now than I was - that I need more rest to maintain my devilishly good looks - I just ignore them. Ultimately, I do what I have to do as well as I can.

Anyway, this is starting to sound a bit too much like a resume. I'll move on for today.

J

Reflections

From orientation to exam day it's been a radical experience - like, you know, radical man. 

Most radical has been muscle memory - recalling this or that from the first go-around. 

Like reading. Reading has its own muscle - one I must say that in my case has been very sparsely used over the past 20 years. And cramming - that's another one; it's 21 years since I had to do much of that - insurance courses don't count. Paying attention in class - that's another one; I confess that I almost nodded off once, though only once and in my defense I had a heavy cold at the time. Also, how to write an essay and cite a source - these have changed a great deal since my days at York.

Every day it's a new project, a new milestone. There are a few big ones left, and there's still plenty to do, and there's a corresponding tendency to look back on what was and wonder how it could have been better. This is important because of other semesters ahead. I mean, at the end of this thing I really want my grades to be as high as possible. I have a sense that this has been something of a throw-away semester in this regard, as I have battled hard to figure out the best way to organize myself. 

For example, for the first half of the semester I took notes by pen and paper, and they were terrible because I kept getting writer's cramp; I couldn't keep up with the free-flow of concepts, and so when I tried to type my notes up later - by way of tidying them up and reinforcing them - I had problems understanding what I'd scribbled! 

Then, just after the first midterms I remembered the laptop. I type much faster than I write, I can type without looking at the keyboard, and when typing I don't ever have to worry about running off the edge of the page. Also, instead of worrying about typing notes after the fact, when I get home I can launch right into review, re-reading, and 'reading around' the material. I started doing this and it became a lot easier to actually participate in class.

It has taken long enough, but now that I've got that figured out I can move on. 

Exam day

Yes, it's finally here. Exam day. The day (well, one of two) that it has all been working towards.

Behind me are all the classes, lectures, tutorials and long hours reading the material. Gone is the angst that comes from wrestling with tough stuff. Awa' the anger (yes, I said anger) that comes from trying to figure out the inscrutable professorial method. In my rear view mirror now is all the misery that comes from trying to physically force new facts into a tired old brain.

Over the past three months I have decided that my brain (mine in particular) is like a dirty old sponge - all scaly, with hard, crusty bits on the outside, and it reaches its daily saturation point a lot faster than the youth-rabble around me. Oh, it still wants to learn. It desires it, craves it, demands it! But it knows its limitations even if I don't. I have learned that this is called the cognitive wall, and some days I hit it pretty quickly.

Of course, we go into this kind of thing with all of our baggage intact. The baggage doesn't go away just because we're otherwise engaged for a while. It might be possible to move it to the back burner, but it will still eventually boil so it must not be ignored. It's like having a child that will get cranky if you suddenly stop paying attention to it. Baggage must be factored into all aspects of this degree pursuit. Baggage can be deferred, but not discarded.

Anyway, exam day. It's 720am and there are a lot more students here today than usually at this hour. Laptops blazing, notes flying, lips moving silently in time with their thoughts. Cramming.

My exam is at 330 this afternoon. My plan is to get some breakfast, then spend the day in the library - cramming. Tomorrow I'll be one of these early crammers, preparing for the 8am slugfest.

Now, off to the library.

J

Electric

The semester is winding down - tomorrow is the last class - political science. I got the prof-tech-Comms report done on Tuesday - the deadline was Tuesday. They actually offered a grace period but I didn't use it because I have other courses, too. After the project I did the 201 take-home exam. The deadline for submission is tomorrow - I submitted it today. I had a GNST class this morning. That's a big, chunky course and the review session was a huge benefit. At least, I hope so.

So now all there is left is tomorrow's class then the political science exam on Monday and the GNST exam on Tuesday. Then I'm done. Then Christmas can start: I can go get some 'stuff' and get it packed and shipped; I can put the tree up - yes, I'm putting the tree up; and I can see about trying to fix the house lights which we bought last year.

That's a story in itself: cheap crap purchased at the new Lowe's store last fall. By the time last Christmas arrived half the lights on the garage weren't working. In the spring we took those sets back for a refund. This year half the house lights aren't working! You know, we had the 'big' bulbs all around for 20 years - we had to replace the bulbs from time to time, but never the whole set! We never had any serious issues with them. Then people talked us in to getting the LED lights and for us it has been a royal pain in the petoot. No, we're not taking these back - its too far to go and it's not worth the hassle.

Anyway, how did I get here!!?

I need to decompress.

Bearing down

There's a break coming up. If I can but grit my teeth and GET IT DONE I get to think about nothing for three whole weeks! Yeah, right. 

First, there's a lot to do to finish this up - some of it needs a little attention, some of it a lot. I'm trying hard, but perhaps not hard enough - I just don't know. 

Perhaps it's perfectly normal to feel completely, totally and utterly inadequate in these circumstances - you know, when the shit is hitting the fan and you remember that your umbrella is broken. I shall have to ask my fellow students.

So anyway, I'm gritting my teeth. I'm bearing down. I'm preparing for the final push. 

Yep, the baby's on its way!

J

Disagreements

As much as you learn in school I believe that life teaches you more. The trick is being open to it - being receptive. I find myself listening a lot here - fifth-wheel syndrome, if you will - with agreement and disagreement, depending on the need. 

There are good things being taught here, but there are also the follies of youth - the incompleteness of cognition. Radical (in some cases) beliefs born of partial education. 

Today was a case in point. The discussion revolved around our values - "who we are". Not cogito ergo sum, but what we believe and why. One student was of the belief - if I understood correctly - that 'we are what we do'; a position that was apparently already in contradiction of the 'you are what you have' beliefs espoused by her parents - see the Book of Possessions, Chapter One, Verse One. Her way out of that very shallow, ignoble, materialist viewpoint was noble, but it was restricting. 

I appreciated what she was saying, though, and tried to reinforce it with the notion that we're far more than what we have - that what we possess is only borrowed and temporary at that. I tried to aver that what we think we own is incidental at best, irrelevant at worst. 

It's true: some people do define themselves by what they have, but I believe they are misguided, and that even a small amount of contemplation in or before their frail dotage will inevitably bring them to that conclusion. 

I tried to impart something that I have learned: that we are a product in fact of everything. Everything we have felt, everything we have heard or seen, everything we have learned, been taught, inferred or extrapolated. Every smell we've ever noticed has influenced our thinking - possibly for a very long time - the music we have decided to love, the writing we enjoy, the poetry we've written or read, the channels we watch, the things that make us sing and those that make us cry. Our angst-givers, our joy-bringers, our anger-makers. Contemplations, reactions, deliberations - all - ALL - serve as the backdrop to what we believe, how we feel, decisions we make, how we react to stimuli, what gives us pain or joy, and so - who we are.

I will readily grant you: age has taken its toll on my thinking. The lustre is off the old diamond, the youthful idealism is all gone and university's not changing that one bit - not because I'm incapable of changing but because it's not showing me anything that suggests I should change. If anything, I'm bringing my experience to bear on discussions that might otherwise proceed simplistically. I'm not saying that's good or bad, just that it provides perspective and that there's a depth in my perception that does not - cannot - exist for young people. I've seen more and heard more than any of them, and this fact alone makes my beliefs and values different. Not right or wrong, just different.

Because we are all a product of our experiences. 

J

The big blow

It's Monday morning, and it has just occurred to me that this is basically the last week of class. Unbelievable! Now doth the heart beat faster as the realization of impending doom, er, deadlines hits me hard at last.

Of course, it doesn't help that today I have the germ of one of my headaches. It's weather-related this time - you see, yesterday it was 13C but we had force one hurricane winds through - trees down, trucks blown over, roofs blown off - that sort of thing. Then last night it snowed, and the pressure differences required to make that sort of thing happen just play havoc with my head. 

Some days it gets really bad, but today I hope to be too busy studying to think about pain. If it doesn't work out that way I'll have to make up the time because - refer to above - there's only so much time left. It's a conundrum.

Well, now je mange, and then, off to do some secondary research.

J

A pastoriori

Would you believe there are only two more weeks of classes left? It seems like only yesterday I was at orientation, getting used to the environment, using all my energy just to say hello. I know I felt self-conscious to begin with - being the only fartster in the class - but that didn't last long and now all I get is an occasional twinge when someone looks at me sideways in the library - registering my greying locks - perhaps for a moment wondering what in Sam Hill I'm doing there. I just pretend I'm a grad student working on a dissertation or something, and the twinge goes away.

I'm working hard on my studies. I have left, what, one large report, one minor exam, two quizzes and two more exams? I seem to be making friends and breaking them. The T/A in GNST doesn't seem to like me - oh well - but I've been invited by some students into their study group for the GNST exam. Hard to believe I had to wait 'til 46 to become one of the cool kids.

Can't bitch too much about the weather either. One little cold spot in the last two months, but mostly reasonable. I don't think that weather contributed to the cold I picked up in week two - by the way, I'm still coughing a little - just as I predicted. That, as I believe I mentioned at the time, is how colds go with me.

I never did pick up the Gauntlet thing again. A few things at play there: I guess I'm a sensitive old duck when it comes to my writing - because I work so hard at it - and I don't like going to all the trouble of doing the interview and spending four hours writing the piece, being told it's perfect, then not recognizing it when it hits print. Read: a fundamental disagreement on the role of the editor.

Another thing at play is the F-bomb; they want it, and I don't need it. I don't want it anywhere near my writings. I know, it's a youth thing - pressing the envelope, stretching the limits - but last I heard they were having trouble securing advertisers. I wonder why...

Well, got to go make my bed now.

J

Deep dip

No, I'm not talking about myself, though you would be forgiven for thinking so. I'm talking about yesterday and where it stood on the roller coaster.

There was a long climb, a jerk, a slow apex and a long, screaming-fast descent into the abyss. Then there was a plateau - a long rest, five hours in the waiting room - as I waited to get out and move on to the next ride. Actually it was a tough day.

But that's enough of that metaphor.

I keep hoping my blog will become more analytical - right now it's opinion at best, invective at worst. Of course, it's part personal journey, so it must have some personal elements.

As far as that goes, I think of Plato's Allegory of the Cave and wonder where I am right now. Let's look at it. First, I'm aware that the cave exists. Second, I'm aware that sunlight exists. Ok, good start - I'm ahead of those other guys.

Am I chasing the sunlight? Some would say that just by being in the halls of learning I am chasing the sunlight. But am I nevertheless enslaved - shackled? Staring uselessly at my images on the provided wall? Pretty much.

So when does enlightenment begin? When do I get to see sunlight? Is all of life spent in the Cave? Am I - are we - doomed to a lifetime in the cave, satisfied with what we are shown? How do we get out? Must we be shown out, or can we find our own way? Is our own Hell tied up in satisfaction, or dissatisfaction?

Is God running the projector?

J

Waiting

There's something singular about hanging around in hospital waiting rooms. Truth be known, it sucks - especially in the cancer clinic. Especially in this waiting room, which at 6 x 11 is obviously intended for five people, not the ten they've got chairs for.

I'm not looking for sympathy at all, but it's difficult to do this kind of thing and study at the same time. It's also difficult to write an exam on the same day you have to do something like this. The only thing that could make it more difficult is if I were the one being prepped for treatment. I'm not, but it's still difficult.

Exams. People... What's wrong with sitting still after an exam and waiting for time to expire? What's wrong with respecting your fellow students' right to an atmosphere that's conducive to concentration? If that can't be done then what's wrong with the idea of leaving quietly? Packing up and going "quietly" - not banging your desk, scraping your feet, talking to your friends, again - respecting your fellow students' right to quiet?

Does anyone think this way anymore? I went and spoke to a Department Head after that exam this morning - I was some pissed, let me tell you. He told me that the quick students demand the right to get on with their day after writing their paper and it's not their fault I'm so goddamned slow. Well, he didn't say those words exactly, but that's what he meant. He suggested that I try to make arrangements though disability to write my exams in a quiet environment, or to arrange to write it during a Prof's office hours so that the level of noise can be controlled a bit better. That made me feel great. I'm not disabled -Ii just want peace and quiet. What is so unreasonable about that?

I told him i don't have a problem with people leaving after writing a quiz, but when the whole course hinges on that exam I think a person should be allowed to concentrate on doing their best, regardless of another person's need to play video games!

Oh, listen to me. I sound like an old fart. I guess I'm just not feeling very generous at the moment.

J

What's that noise?

That? Oh, that's the sound of the blood rushing through my head. It's the heady feeling one gets when one suffers the realization that one doesn't have the answer to one of the quiz questions before one.

At such moments are reputations hung. On such reasoned, seasoned extrapolative assessments do degrees depend. At such times are - nay - must be called upon the reconstructive skills of one's distant past. In such frames of reference do we call to question our abilities as old farts to remember anything, let alone what we must.

I promise to put this tense to bed for good. Starting now.

J

Ups and downs

Has anyone else noticed the roller coaster ride of emotions that is this university experience? It's ups and downs in the true sense of the phrase!

Example: I'm given an assignment and I think "I can do that". Then I'm given another, and another, and another and before you know it when I sit down at my desk to actually get it all done, I don't know where to start.

That can be frustrating so it becomes a process of carefully weighing and balancing first the breadth of the assignment, then the relative difficulty, then the due date, and in truly finite calculations how I'm already doing in the course, and finally - what the heck I can stomach at that moment.

If I'm a good boy I pick the most difficult assignment first. If I'm not, I procrastinate and do the plum job, reasoning that - hey, it's all progress!

I must say that for the most part I've been a good boy this year, though there have been days...

Ultimately it must all be done. Stomach churning, even the ugly jobs must be completed. Forge ahead, that's the ticket. Surge onward. Attack!

I want to form a procrastinators club, but I keep putting it off.

James m