Un crit terrible

I think I may have just experienced my worst crit, ever. The assignment was to create a King/Queen/Jack set of cards for a culture. I chose to do Stalinist Russia, and I figured my assignment went pretty well. So I get up and give a quick oral presentation, talking about the various features and actions I made. I didn't stumble or rush - I finished up and felt pretty good.

And then crickets.

The prof asked, "comments, anyone?"

...

More crickets.

Finally a girl I sit near during class started to say something. YES! SAVED! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! Unfortunately, her comment pretty much consisted of 'it didn't really make sense until you explained it'. Ouch. I mean, she said it nicer than that and I think she was doing her best to throw me a line, but still.

Oh well, the gates are open for more comments and maybe some positive feedback, right?

...

MORE CRICKETS.

Finally, the prof said that I screwed up my hierarchy system and had a few flaws in my colour scheme. My crit was over and I sat down, just glad to not be standing in front of a silent class.

I managed to get an alright grade on the assignment, but just to make things that much more fantastic, all the projects except for mine and three or four others were taken to be put on display. I mean, sure, I don't mind if it doesn't go up - it wasn't perfect. But the fact that I was clearly in the bottom 20% of the class wasn't too pleasant.

So, yeah. That sucked.
-Cril

But your thoughts will soon be wandering
The way they always do
When you're ridin' sixteen hours
And there's nothin' much to do
And you don't feel much like ridin',
You just wish the trip was through

Here I am
On the road again
There I am
Up on the stage
Here I go
Playin' star again
There I go
Turn the page

Well you walk into a restaurant,
Strung out from the road
And you feel the eyes upon you
As you're shakin' off the cold
You pretend it doesn't bother you
But you just want to explode

Metallica - Turn the Page

An illusion caused by the world spinning 'round

Where I live, I park in a spot that belongs to someone else. For $20/month, an old lady one complex over lets me use it, because a) she doesn't drive, and b) it ain't that smart to drive a 15 year old car around in Calgary winter when you can't plug in the block heater. That, and it lets me park right by our place, so it works out.

So, like at the beginning of every month, I come by this old lady's house and drop off a $20. I think she has some bad hearing - her TV is always on really loud, and it usually takes two or three knocks before she comes to the door. She's old and frail and has gray hair, but she's sweet. Always has something to chat about. This month, she wished me a happy Thanksgiving. I returned the compliment, and asked if she had any plans. She said she didn't - her husband had died some time ago. They were both peacekeepers with the UN, you know. He was a field medic. I told her I was sorry to hear he had passed, but to have a great Thanksgiving all the same. She told me to enjoy mine too, and pass the wishes on to my wife.

It occurred to me as I was leaving that if her husband was dead and she didn't have any plans, then she probably didn't have any children/relatives/friends to spend the day with either. Sure, as much as I wish I did, I do not, in fact, have a wife to share such a holiday with. But all of the sudden I was that much more grateful that I could call the family I can't be with and spend a few hours in the company of other relatives I have within the city. But what about the old lady I pay parking money to?

"Happy" Thanksgiving, everyone.
-Cril

Do you realize
That you have the most beautiful face?
Do you realize
We're floating in space?
Do you realize
That happiness makes you cry?
Do you realize
That everyone you know someday will die?

Flaming Lips - Do You Realize?

Week[/end]

At the beginning of a weekend, as you stroll away from campus, you find yourself thinking, "I have two days ahead of me before I go back to class. The possibilities are endless."

I'm here to let you know that the possibilities, are not in fact endless.

I thought I'd get through all my homework with a bit of time to spare, so I could kick back and enjoy myself for an hour or two. Alas, 'twas not meant to be. I can't believe the weekend is simply gone. Where did it go? Do I really have anything to show for it? Ugh, how frusterating. This thing kinda scares me, actually, because I don't have any other buffer. Last year I could skip out on work if I needed to, but now... The weekend is everything I've got.

Figure 1: This is precisely the kind of thing I didn't do with my weekend.

It just sucks so much to feel so optimistic, and then a mere ~48 hours later be exhausted and feeling so defeated. I thought that weekends were supposed to have the opposite effect. I guess not. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to squeeze another two hours of work out of this dried, shriveled up two-day break before I call it a night. Bleh.
-Chris.

Paul Crossley - Suite Bergamasque - Clair de Lune