5 Days...

In case the title misled you to think that I have some information on a prequel to 7 Days to Vegas, let me just inform you that this entry is just a run-of-the-mill jot-down of my week; just another frivolous update for my website, in other words - nothing special (you can stop reading right now if you want to).

So what's there? Well I did stumble upon a revelation about my current institution of learning and that is, that it (the school) is a large black bat, spawning from the cave of the apocalypse with the sole intention to suck the very life out of every student and, dare I say, every living organizm that dare leaves its slimy trail of life upon the cursed grounds of that wretched castle. Or it could be described as a rather large and uncouth salesman that overburdens his pack mules... which would happen to be the students, like myself.

You would not believe the volume of work that we are issued. It's so bad that I have to quote one of my favorite movie lines of critique - "it's ri-God dammed-diculous". They gave us nearly 10 group projects to do, most which feel like busy work (I HATE BUSY WORK) that must be handed up by the end of this... semester. I don't even know what to call it because I heard roumours that we have three semesters or a "trimester" which makes up 1 academic year. It had better not be the "trimester" shit because in that word I see a reflection of a crazed Kevin in a straight jacket, beating down an orderly due to the lack of Summer Vacation. It is true that I don't do anything of count during the summer, but that's the point.

Now, back to these... assignments/projects/dog work/whatever they are... They are soon becoming the thorn in the forefront of my brain. Not a waking moment of may day is spent not thinking about them or trying to devise a way to have them completed before the crushing fist of the school's academic system comes thundering down to place a permanent crater in my academic record.
It's funny really, how we are all slaves to society; how no matter where you go or what you chose to do are in themselves, the shackles that bind you to your decision and purpose.

So that's it basically, I'm just a bit worn out from school, but at least it's the weekend right? Well "at least" is right - there's nothing special about life on the 2S days. The only thing that's different is that I don't go to school... but I still have to do work.

Anyway, i'm continuing this entry from last night just in case you didn't notice the change of tone. Well last night wasn't all bad, coming to think of it. My mom invited me to go with her to this reunion shin dig for some friend of hers and I have to say that it wasn't all that bad. Not because I flexed on any of the geriatrics, no no my friend, I have a reputation to think about - it was good because it beat the hell out of my plans for that night. I could have:
(a) Sat and devised a way to bang the DOA chicks
(b) Gone out and met some people (and by people, I mean a fine young thing that'll do something strange for some change) while I'm at it.

I chose option b. At the risk of having to witness the sheer monstrosity of these old people bumping and grinding their goodies (or should I say "old goods") to the calming sounds of Mr. James Brown, I had a fantasy of meeting a fine young maiden, posted at the bar waiting to be swept off her feet by an eligible (pseudo) bachelor like myself. Fortunately for my loins, I know how these things go - yes, it is highly possible that there will be someone's daughter who, like myself ,had nothing to do that night and was dragged along to the party. Yes she would also be in my age bracket, but either one of two things would have been wrong. She would have either: looked like the "keep as a friend" kind of girl, been engaged (yeah, it happens) or she would leave the party too early, even before you could get your swerve on.

With my luck, she was a combination of the last two - she had a boyfriend, and he came to pick her up about 20 mins after I got there. That would have sucked... if I didn't have a back-up plan. Instead, me and my sis went to the local cineplex (yes the same one) and watched Jodie Foster shoot the shit out of some random mothafuckers. The Brave One was a really good movie.

We got back to the party around half twelve at which time I saw this dude dancing with my mom. The gag reflex was strong, but I held it. He had that look in his eye, like "I'm gonna get some tonight, or next week, or something!" But I stepped in an broke that whole thing up before it went too far, though.

So that was Saturday... Sunday was no different. I'm fuckin tired, there's sand in my eyes and I have yet to begin writing that policy for school... i'm fuckin annoyed right now.... The weekend has passed and I am not an ounce more educated that when it started, I'm a mess. Anyway, I can see next week and smell its sulphuric skin from my perch of the night... Again I trudge forth into the dingy light of the next 5 days. This is starting to get pretty old.