Ramble

I don't seem to have anything particularly profound to write (but that's nothing new really) maybe I should ransack a Buddhist temple for some profundity. I don't know why, but they seem like the kind of people who'd have a lot of it, what with all the meditating they do. They're probably hiding it somewhere in a big vault behind the large, ever present stone Buddha. yeah...

I can see it now...

I sneak in in the middle of the night wearing all black and a sock over my head (you know the stretchy see through-ish kind? cuz well I don't have a proper ninja costume for slinking or a ski mask... and even if I did know where to get one, why would I get something that I'm probably only ever going to use once eh?) And of course I trip some sort of chi powered laser line and then all the monks jump out from shadows that I didn't even know were there and the wind (that only just showed up for special effects purposes) blows at their flowy orange robes, lifting up the hems just enough to reveal those cool looking monk issue sandals that have, for the purpose of kicking my ass, been fitted with poison cleated soles (O.o) Then like some Chinese epic movie they all jump into the air and start screaming Hiiiiiyyyaaaaa! or any number of monkish things... like Ohhhmmmm or sharabalahoohhhaaaahuum.... but the last two don't exactly sound very menaci9ng so they'll probably stick with Hiiiiiyyyaaaaa... And for the nth time this sem I will have wished I took some p.e. other than swimming.. In this particular case running would have been far more useful.

Speaking of swimming...

have you ever wondered how long it takes to scramble out of a pool, grab your clothes from the bleachers, run into the changing room, strip, change, run back out, grab all your stuff and then brisk walk (as if there's energy for anything more than that after 45 minutes of effort full splashing around in cold chlorinated water) from the covered courts to SOM 211?
The answer is 16 God awful minutes.
And after all that I, dripping, bedraggled and obviously TIRED, have an hour and a half with this lovely old woman who upon closer inspection is maliciously vindictive and says hoooookaaaayyy a lot more than I think is allowable for anyone to say in a hour and a half's belligerent bludgeoning of students with hell's pet project known as Accounting.
Her name is Venus Ibarra and I hope that one day she will die a slow and painful death. maybe someone can stake her with an icicle of holy water eh?

It's not that I particularly hate the subject, but I'd be lying if I told you I enjoyed it. (It's probably such a big lie that I could get shunted off to hell right now If I say it) Accounting isn't pure evil. just highly concentrated. It isn't something that you hate but more of something that scares the shit out of you. Something that inspires terror in the hearts of, well relatively, innocent SOM students. which makes Ibarra more or less the BMH equivalent of the boogie man.

But at least my other teachers don't bear quite as strong a resemblance to hell's spawn as she does. I am afraid of my Filipino teacher but that's really mostly because he's my Filipino teacher. And anyway he looks more like Stanely Tucci than hell's spawn. (If you squish the face horizontally I'll bet you can see it.. and no its not just because they're both bald.)

Side notes:

• Applied for heights yesterday, interview went pretty well :D yay!

• 97% sure someone stole my USB (brand new, 4 gig with the scans of my heights application art in it and one of my pretty shoelaces as a strap) form RSF :o Pakshit.
• missed my NSTP Orientation :\ uhhrrrmmm
  
• Almost done with Good Omens :) weeeeehhhh
  
• Almost have FMA the movie in my possession :O mahhhhh gaaaaaaahhhd!!!!
• My laptop is acting up (why does all technology hate me?)