if this is heaven i'm bailing out

Symbolic Logic course work is a brick wall into which I launch myself into over and over again. And I will have to cut off that joy short so I can go to work, despite missing it for an entire week. Linguistics club had our president talking up the Honors Program, something I cannot get into because of my mediocre GPA. How come I am always afflicted with a tinge of envy when I hear of academic honors? I try hard, but get lazy and/or confused. The last time I was in honor roll was seventh grade. Great. The height of my academic career was when I was miserable as hell and had only homework to occupy my time.

I know that I won't get into grad school with my stunning grades, and I am hoping to make it up by having a full resume and tutition reimbrusement. You know, "See? I may be only a mediocre student with little teaching history, but I have done work in this stuff, dammit!" Still, I'd like to have a diploma beside 'with honors.' Yeah, yeah, grades don't mean much, but it is a sense of a job done well. Hell, I am not even sure I can complete my minor coursework due to wanting to graduate after lost time. That is what is about. Lost time. Lost opportunities.

I did however apply for a tutoring position for first year linguistics classes. Maybe I should consider tutoring for Symbolic Logic. Bleagh.

My inner Madonna and gorilla

Taken from The Inner Madonna Quiz

The Chakra Junkie
You're more about babies and bindis than booze and barroom brawls. And you enjoy the finer things in life, like owning multiple homes. Keep your aura burning bright, and don't forget the salvation one can find in a good night of rave hopping.

I do not want a baby, I perfer to stick to one religion at a time, and could you club kids out there enlighten me, how the hell do you hop raves, with them being in secluded locales and stuff?

But never mind Madonna, what is my Zoo Atlanta gorilla personality?

In a society that pays tribute to size and strength, Kudzoo, who will turn 4 years old next February, obviously has genetics on her side: Father Willie B. boasts a 40-inch neck to go with his 400-pound plus girth, while mother Choomba is large enough to be mistaken for a male. Not surprisingly, Kudzoo is a very big baby, and she's already learned how to throw her weight around. She instigates trouble, swiping at adults, for example, or stealing food, then wails in protest when the object of her taunts has the temerity to retaliate. It's a strategy certain to earn the gripes of other gorillas, but the brattish behavior produces results: When Willie B. hears the unhappy shrieks of his first offspring, he races over to explain the consequences of messing with daddy's little girl. Kudzoo, of course, has by then retreated, although she'll soon be back to raise a little more ruckus.

Uh-huh

Saggitaurus' horoscope, according to free will astrology

Warning! Danger! Beware! On February 3, Mercury goes retrograde! The preceding was a public service announcement that I will now proceed to ridicule. I'm sick and tired of the Chicken Little School of Astrology. I'm terribly bored by the superstitious folks who expect crossed signals and communication snafus whenever Mercury appears to move contrary to its usual direction. Listen up, people! This happens three times every year in a perfectly routine manner. Let's save our belief in evil omens for events that are unpredictable, like supernovas and weird comets. There is nothing inherently crippling about Mercury retrograde -- unless you devoutly fear there is, in which case your check will be lost in the mail and you will suffer a misunderstanding with a friend. But if you'd prefer to base your actions on a more accurate assessment, please act as if it's an excellent time to work on becoming a better communicator.

Which means, make sure the darn check is in the mail. Which I will.