Anyway, LCL kicked me out of his class again today, after having done so two months ago. I attempted to crash Mag's class and I was there before him and five minutes after he came in, things were all jazzy and great. Then he noticed me. Then he started questioning my existence in his class. Then it transpired that I didn't clear it with my tutor (I honestly cannot imagine speaking personally to my Prof), and he was all, "I would have you if your tutor lets me have you." Then I pre-empted what was obviously about to come and said, "I'm guessing I have to leave?"
But you know what? It was worth getting kicked out of his class, because I went for TLA's class instead (was planning to go for the 2 p.m. one, after LCL's 12, the one I got kicked out of) and it just completely amazing and worth it. Seriously. She's amazing. It was the first tutorial the entire semester during which I actually felt like I was learning something, didn't feel like I was falling asleep, and that I could like the subject. Simultaneously I'm fucking scared now 'cause her students and everyone else who's been crashing her classes (the tutorial room was more or less full - like seriously) know so much more than me, have gone through more rigorous analyses than me, have thought more about the topics than me.
I AM SCREWED BEYOND REASONABLE DOUBT.
I'm more or less resigned to my fate. Like Company, you know? Bring on the C. I'm pretty convinced I failed my essay anyway, 'cause half of it was off-point and the only part that was good was the part that was off-point. So, yeah. Bleah.
I'm collecting my Trusts assignment tomorrow and I'm scared. I'm thinking C+. Part A was very, very badly done. Part B was well done but most of it was extraneous. Part C contained a single paragraph. And I had no conclusion. I didn't even address the part about the settlor dying intestate and having all these trusts set up ten years before he died. Fuck, this is bad.
I ate a hell lot of junk today, including, inter alia, waffles at Gelare. I felt so fat after that I wanted to swim and I changed into my bathing suit and I took the lift down and just as I was about to step out to the pool area, I saw ripples on the surface of the water. It was raining. I WAS PISSED, I TELL YOU. Like, damn bloody pissed. And it was only 3.45 in the afternoon, the hell? And thirty minutes before it was sunny and bright.
I hate the weather. Just make up your mind already, for the love of my sanity. If you want to rain, RAIN. Don't rain halfway and be all sunny and shit ten minutes later. How can ANYONE swim when it's just rained? It's all cold and gross and I hate swimming in the freezing cold water.
I've been slacking off on swimming because I'm super scared that my boobs will shrink even further. I'm so seeing some sort of a doctor for womanly problems one of these days. I can't go on being tubby and flat-chested; it's utterly ridiculous. I swear, sometimes I'm convinced that my retarded tummy is bigger than my boobs.
I ate three Gardenia raisin buns at 9 p.m. Those buns? Totally evil.
Also, I downloaded (meaning, PAID FOR) the full version of Blake's Time of the Season from the American Idol site. Thirty minutes later I found a link on Blake's Television Without Pity thread that has EVERY SINGLE BLAKE FILE available on the Internet, INCLUDING the legal (meaning must-pay-one) stuff. So effectively I wasted US$0.99 on a 2.54m MP3 file that I could've downloaded for free.
I also wanted his cover of um, that Diana Ross song, You Keep Me Hangin', but the AI site refused to let me buy it due to "country restrictions". What the hell? Oh well, that saved me US$0.99 so I'm glad. I downloaded the original Diana Ross just to see how different Blake's version is and I almost collapsed on the floor in horror when I heard the original. Suffice it to say that it's the kind of song I'd rather cut myself up and slowly bleed to death than to listen to. It's right up there with techno and dance and shit-assed, non-Johnny Cash country and showtunes and most musical songs.
I have an auto car lesson tomorrow. Talk about irrelevant. What's the point of going through auto car lessons?! And they cost the same as a normal lesson, namely Way Too Much. I so need to get my licence sometime between now and the day that I die, but sadly I highly doubt I could get it on May 25...unless I really do the low-cut top, push-up bra, charming smile, tight jeans thing.
Am I really sinking this low ("The Bends", Radiohead)? I guess so. It's called Desperation.
But then again, why the hell not? If you have the assets (I don't mean this in the traditional colloquial way because I know it doesn't apply to me), flaunt them. Make use of them. It doesn't make you stupid; it makes you shrewd, it makes you smart. What is so wrong with getting jobs and whatever by using your looks to give you an edge? Simply by the virtue of the fact that you thought of doing so and know how to work it to your advantage demonstrates, quite clearly, that you have a brain.
Besides, exploiting the weakness of a man's groin? Totally entertaining. Hahahahahahahaha.
I'm kind of high tonight. I think it's the coffee I drank an hour ago.
Whiny people are irritating. Attention-seeking people are worse. And I am still the Queen of Passive Aggressiveness.