It’s official…I’ve turned into one of “those people.” You know, those people who have kids and lose all ability to have a conversation about anything else? Except my children are essays, and they are inanimate objects. Inanimate objects that I have completely created. So really I’ve turned into something much more annoying than hearing about little Johnny’s persistent diaper rash: I’m the most conceited person ever. It’s also the best conversation stopper. “What are you doing for St. Patrick’s Day? Anything fun??” “Oh, I’m just working on my essay about the Suez Canal Crisis of 1956 being a game changer in the Middle East.” ::crickets:: At least that’s the one I lead with; what’s going to happen when I start working on the essay dealing with the downward spiral of morals at the hands of Nazi compulsion?? Oh, I’m going to lose a lot of friends and cry even more than I already do?? Awesome-I’ll put it on my calendar.
If it makes you guys feel any better, grad school is now halfway over for me. I know, frightening isn’t it?? Last week marked the end of term, and since all I do is blab about the aforementioned topics, I thought I would spice up my academia talk with some of the most random school shenanigans of all time. Since I’m big into titling things lately, let’s title this section of the blog post, shall we? UCL Elections: Bungee-Jumping and Pole Dancing do the Student Body Good. Several weeks ago people were running for…err…something. And they handed out flyers for this…err…something (I was both clearly swayed and captivated by these elections). I must be out of the political game, because I thought all you had to do for school elections was slap some glitter on some poster-board and call it a day. Apparently these days you need to hire a crane and bounce house, let people jump from staggering heights, and pray that no one dies. OR set up a stripper pole right outside the main library and play Rihanna’s “S & M”. I really wonder why these tactics haven’t made it to Washington yet. Or they have, but I’m so hung up on not crossing the party line that I didn’t get a pamphlet covered in body glitter. So here’s my end-of-term-sorry-for-always-boring-you present: pictures of people not dying on cranes and half-naked girls. All taken from the UCL campus. I couldn’t make this up even if I wanted to. You’re welcome.
Now that ya’ll have forgiven me and are really questioning how UCL grabbed the #4 ranking this year, let’s play a bit of catch-up, shall we? Because that’s why I created this blog. Or was it because I needed yet another place to tell really bad jokes? No one really remembers. Eh-hem: I am officially done with classes for my MA. Now all that stands between me and beginning my dissertation is (drum roll, please. No seriously, I either need a sound effect from your mouth or fingers mimicking drum sticks on a table. There you go, now you’ve got it!): 24,000 words, 2 essay exams at 3 hours each and…well, I’m sure there’s something else. I really have no idea how long 24,000 words is. The essay I just handed in was 4,000 words, and it came out at 15 pages. And since I have said time and again that I’m horrible at math, I won’t even attempt a mathematical equation to solve for y. Or x. Whichever math teachers always tell you to solve for. So my wonderful foray into grad school papers will come to a close on the 22nd of April, and then the exam term begins. I’m told that written exams can take place anywhere between April 29th and June 7th. I have two exams. I will give $100 to the first person who can correctly guess when they take place. (for not liking math, this kind of sounds like a word problem)
You in the back? With the green shirt? No, the other green shirt. Yes, you; you answered “April 29th and April 30th”, did you not? Here is your $100. I know that my kickass classmates and I will get everything done, and that it will all be fabulous. I also know that we’re going on a bender on April 30th at approximately 1:01 PM. So if anyone would like to partake in this bending of soberdom, you are more than welcome to join. Just know that I will be sleep deprived with an alcohol tolerance that can maybe handle two beers every 5 hours. Ooooh this is going to be so entertaining/I am going to forget my name in .5 seconds.
Wait, how did this just turn from me talking about how I will completely accomplish the impossible to a Katy Perry video? No one knows. But it happened. So the next time you hear from me, I will either be making less sense than normal or the whole post will just be the word, “Yeeeeeah!!!” repeated over and over. Which also makes less sense than normal. So that’s all I can really promise for the near future…