Y2kk Update: Well... it's the aftermath... aftermath of the afterparty...

... not to mention possibly the most profoundly, profusely profane weeks in my entire goddam pathetic life, but...

... surprisingly? I just don't seem to care that much about it all anymore...

... well, except for the fact that I didn't get to enjoy the afterglow of the hot and horny sex I wanted on my birthday, but I digress...

I mean, when it comes to that missed exam of mine, I ended up with just two doctor's notes. I ended up submitting both to the Registrar's Office by Monday... and yes, I'm still worried about the outcome of it all. I was so worried, that I submitted my medical certificate photocopies to my counselor as well, just in case the Registrar Office botches things up before my petition gets to the exam committee... I tried finding my two professors at school on Monday, but there were nowhere to be found. Expectedly so, considering they wouldn't stay in their offices unless they expected students to prattle and annoy them with questions...

But I haven't even e-mailed my profs about the situation yet, after talking to them live the day on the day of question, that is... I haven't even started communicating with my counselor again about possible alternate solutions like a make-up exam. Afterall, I wasn't prepared for the exam last week, and I sure as hell wouldn't be prepared for a test in the goddam summer... And when it came to my parents? I told them mostly the truth... I told them I was late, and that the professors recommended to me to petition the exam, since I was feeling ill with the stomach flu anyhew. What I didn't tell them, was that I was so fucking late to school that day, that I didn't actually have a choice. It was petition or die, really... but what I told them was mostly the truth, wasn't it?...

... well...

The thing is, I don't feel really bad about the situation right now. I guess I'm always the same when it comes to tests and exams... feel bad about failing for a day or two, and then I go back to being my cocky, arrogant, ignorant son of a bitch self by the time the next time I have another test or whatnot... The thing is, everything hinges on this one damn petition of mine alone. It alone may determine whether I ever have to take a damn exam in university again or not. And I'm sure I'll be pissed off as profanity hell when the final results do come in...

Like I said last week, either missing the exam due to my goddam flu, was either the worst thing to ever happen to me in my goddam life. Or the goddam luckiest... I won't know for at least another month...

What I have cared about more recently, was the fact that my brother was too damn lazy and perhaps too damn incompetent to actually hide the fact that he had not one, but two goddam parties at my house while my parents were gone... with the second one being a smaller BBQ with his friends the day before my parents got back from China...

... so let's trace back all his little mistakes, shall we?...

First of all, he was too damn lazy to put away all the beer bottles... Hell, he was too damn lazy to even get rid of all the Vodka bottles and shotgun glasses laying on the goddam kitchen counter. Now that's just fucking stupid...

Second, he left out all the hotdogs buns and leftover steaks and sausages in the fridge. Why he didn't just give them away to his friends or the neighbour's dog or whatever, I will never know... The first time my mother asked about it, I made up some lame excuse that my brother was planning to have a small BBQ, but they didn't end up eating any of the hot dog buns in the end... Then my brother was stupid enough to just leave the supermarket receipts on his goddam bedroom desk, showing really how much damn food he ordered for the 20+ people who showed up at our doorsteps that day...

And third... my brother promised nothing would be broken. But in my paranoid delusional frenzy, I made sure nothing would ever get the chance to break... I moved all the paintings in the house, and all the valuable collectors items (including my 150+ game collection, mind you) to a bathroom upstairs, where I locked the door and hid away the key... Nothing could get broken that way, and nothing did. Although it was sure as hell a pain in the ass to move everything back the day after (cutting into my study time for my last of my exams, mind you)...

Now, I never noticed this myself, but my brother sure as hell did the morning after... And really, I guess he couldn't have done anything about this either, but...

... umm...

... one of his friends somehow chipped off a quarter of one of our floor tiles, it seems...

... how the hell a person managed that, I will never know...

Either way, a severly cracked tile was not exactly a good thing, considering my parents keep an eye out on the floor every single damn day of the week... So yeah, there was really no way to cover this up. But if my brother had just hidden away everything else from the goddam party, at least we could've made up some excuse, that we dropped a heavy glass jar or something, which chipped away at the cold, brittle floor or some crap like that...

Well, my brother got in a bit of trouble for his inane actions. I was off the hook, although my parents are still and always will be hounding me to get a job... and I really don't blame them. Now, I guess was too dumb last year when I was deciding to take the design project off, as I didn't goddam realize how damn hard it would be to just get my resume through without having the words "graduated" somewhere on it...

I just saw the latest Future Shop flyer yesterday morning, with the Star Trek Enterprise DVDs on sale for $110 CDN...

... damn, I want money... I love materialism. I really do...

That's sadly what I care about right now... Not exactly about my job situation per say, and not any damn bit really about the fact that I could fucking fail all of my fourth year's second term, thanks to one fucking mistake to sleep in through my goddam alarm clock, but...

I just want money. Money, money, money.

Back to square one, I see... the Canadian Square One area, I mean...

... sigh... I've never quite been the life of the party...

But today's my birthday anyhew... Well, a very goddam belated birthday, considering today is the day my family finally celebrates my April 20th anniversary at a Chinese restaurant or whatever...

... might as well enjoy the free food while it lasts...

Happy birthday to me, indeed.

Y2kk Update: I am so fucked.

I am so, so fucked.

Fuck, fuck, fuck... Fucking fuck.

And did I mention fuck?...

Seriously...

I mean, WHAT THE FUCK WAS WRONG WITH ME?!

Now my entire goddam final term at university is at stake. Now it's possible that I can fucking fail the entire term, all my courses, from one single fucking mistake...

Either yesterday was one of the absolute worst days in my entire fucking life... I honestly felt like having another nervous breakdown or some shit like that at one point...

... or...

... yesterday was one of the luckiest damn days of my life...

... I just won't know until over one month from now, that's all...

... I seriously can't live with myself that long... not after yesterday...

...

The story all began on Wednesday. My fucking birthday. And what a depressing birthday it was...

My brother was having a party at my house. Except that it wasn't a party for me - it was a damn party for all his university friends, celebrating the end of their fucking exams...

But honestly, while I admit that I okayed the party... and while at least I was glad that nothing was broken or marred in the house... While I am glad that the party remained civil, like just a get-together between close friends and all... the thing is...

How fucking selfish can he fucking be?...

He may have been done exams. Hell, he didn't even have any to write...

But I still had a fucking exam left. I needed peace and quiet to actually fucking study.

Instead, he throws a party with a ton of food for his friends... and yet he forgot to cook me even a fucking hot dog on my fucking birthday?...

Yeah, real thoughtful of him... Instead, I had leftovers for my birthday dinner. That's right - fucking five day old leftovers...

... probably food poisoned, for all I know...

What a fucking birthday...

...

The day after, my brother at least did wake up in the morning to do some of the cleanup. He recycled all the beer bottles, took out all the garbage, did God knows what to the remnants of the keg he bought, washed the floor tiles, and vacuumed at least the main floor of the house...

... and then he left... Even with so much more to fucking do around the house, he just fucking left...

So what did I do in his place instead?...

There was still spilled booze on the tiles. So I fucking had to wash all the tiled floors twice just to get the stench out.

I was and am still worried about beer in the carpets... But since I was too damn lazy to wash the carpets with soap, I opted instead to vacuum the main floor again...

Then I fucking vacuumed the basement, since he let the drunkards sleep there against my wishes...

Then I fucking vacuumed the 2nd floor, being paranoid delusional and all of the mud people tracked in with their shoes as they were heading to the upstairs washroom to puke...

Then I did the fucking dishes he left behind...

Then I washed the two washrooms that his friends fucked up (well, they didn't fuck them up badly... but I think they left some shit on the toilet, unless that was me... but I digress...)...

I had an exam to study for on Friday. But that Thursday, the day after the fucking party on my birthday that wasn't mine, I fucking spent most of the fucking day cleaning after my brother's damn mess... just in the hope that my parents wouldn't suspect a thing when they return from their trip to China...

The thing is... I procrastinated for half of the day with cleaning, because I was always under the impression that my Friday exam would start at 2 pm, just like every other fucking exam that I had this term...

Then I checked the fucking course website...

And WHAT THE FUCK?!?...

A 9:30 am exam? A NINE FUCKING THIRTY in the morning exam?!...

Fuck.

I crammed my ass off for that exam.

I mean, I hadn't even begun studying for that course yet, thanks to the party and cleanup and all... So what the fuck was I going to do?

I crammed my ass all the way to 2 am. I almost fell asleep on my goddam books... almost forgot to set my alarm clock...

... not like that made a difference, anyhew...

...

It was around that Thursday night that I started feeling real bad in the throat and stomach. I tried to eat my dinner (a lovely fucking Chinese TV dinner, since that's all I know how to cook), but it just wouldn't stay down. I ended up gagging on the rice more than once, but I just assumed that was because I was eating previously frozen food. I mean, it was bound to taste awful, right?... even to the point of making me feel like vomiting, actually...

I didn't vomit though. But damn, was my diarrhea horrible that night... I mean, I seriously didn't want to sit on the toilet when I had a fucking exam left to cram for. But after eating that damn TV dinner, my stomach was killing me... I think I sat on the damn toilet seat for half an hour. Hell, I even had to give myself a couple damn courtesy flushes before I finally found my way out of the fucking bathroom door...

It was awful. And even after shitting three or four times, I still felt horrible in the gut for some odd reason. It was some of the worst fucking diarrhea I've had in years.

No shit.

But I just attributed it all to stress, right?... The food I was eating was bad. I had a morbidly depressing 23rd birthday. And I was completely not prepared for my damn exam at 9:30 am in the morning...

I had thought that I could wake up early for that exam day, and cram until 2 pm. That was my original plan...

Things never go according to plan...

Why the fuck wasn't I damn smart enough, to just check the fucking exam schedule before it was too damn late?...

Fuck.

And the game of Battle-shits that my fucking intestines were playing with me, definitely wasn't helping things out either... all to way until 2 am, really...

I couldn't keep my eyes open.

I set my alarm for 7:30 am.

I managed to find my way to my bed...

...

The next thing I knew, I jumped out of bed, feeling like I was going to vomit. I fucking rushed to the washroom, tried to gag out whatever the fuck was stabbing me inside, and eventually gave up when nothing but the fucking middle finger up the ass and down my throat could've make me feel better...

I then took a look at my clock...

... and, umm?...

9 am?...

NINE AM?!

NINE FUCKING O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING?!

WHAT THE FUCK?!?...

There was only a fucking half hour until the exam was set to start. And I fucking live in Oakville, where it takes over a fucking hour to commute to my fucking University of Toronto...

I was fucked.

I was so, so fucked...

I mean, what the fuck happened?!...

I assume that my alarm went off. I can only assume that it did...

My fucking mom will kill me if she ever finds out that I didn't use the second alarm she gave me... She warned me something like this would happen before she left for her trip...

But no, my alarm always goes off... So what the fuck happened?...

I slept through my alarm?

How?

Why?

How?

Three damn good questions I've been asking myself over and over and fucking over again...

I then rushed through brushing my teeth. I almost vomited again from the fucking toothpaste.

Fuck.

I was sick.

So fucking sick...

...

Stomach flu, I assumed... I couldn't eat breakfast. I was even gagging on the fucking bottled water I tried to drink... My throat was killing me. I could literally taste shit in the bowels of my gullet...

But I had no time to care. I just rushed out the door, caught the first bus I could, got on the first fucking train I could, and rushed my way to university from there...

I should've ran my way from the subway station to the damn school... I was keeling in pain though. I was about to throw up on the fucking way. I couldn't run. Not without killing myself in the process...

I just wish I did though... could've shaved five minutes or more off my time...

When I finally got into my engineering building, I realized that I didn't even know what fucking room I was supposed to be in for my exam... I was in too much of a damn rush earlier to ever take note of the goddam exam room... So I logged into the ECF computers, and wasted another few minutes of my time with the goddam slowass internet at U of T that morning...

I didn't think a few lost minutes would ruin anything...

Afterall, I was already an hour late for my exam. How the fuck could a few more minutes make a difference?...

Fuck...

... me and my bright ideas...

...

I finally rushed my way to the exam room that I was supposed to write in. I tried to barge my way through the front gates.

Locked. The doors to the fort were fucking locked.

And the TAs wouldn't damn open it for me... not until I started pounding on the handles like a madman, disturbing everyone in the fucking exam room...

Once I got in, I asked the TAs for an exam paper. I was all set and ready to write the damn thing, even with an hour lost on the time to write. I didn't give a shit that I only had an hour and a half left to do the whole exam... I've written exams in shorter times before, and I could do it again... except for one small problem here...

The fucking TAs wouldn't let me write.

They brought along a paper... a TA's Hitchhiker Guide to the University, so to speak... that specified in clear as fucking mud words... that any student who arrives more than 60 minutes late for an exam, isn't allowed to write it...

I then looked at my fucking watch...

I was 70 minutes late...

... 65 to 70 fucking minutes late...

Fuck.

... I was only ten fucking minutes later than the hard deadline, and yet the fucking TAs still refused to let me write?

WHAT THE FUCK?!...

Nobody had to know that they let me in. All they fucking had to do, was hand me an exam paper... but nooo... Fucking sticklers decided to drag me up to the professors instead, and let them handle it...

I tried pleading with my professors. I was sick that day, with stomach cramps and fucking vomiting. I slept through my alarm somehow, woke up over an hour later than expected, and couldn't make it to the damn exam room on time since it takes me over a damn hour to commute... The professors pretended to care, telling me that perhaps not being able to write the exam was a blessing in disguise or some shit like that. I was sick afterall, and I surely wouldn't be able to do my best in just the hour and a half time leftover for that goddam exam...

Fuck.

My last fucking exam... my last fucking exam, of perhaps all of university...

... well... what could've been my last fucking exam...

... and instead of finishing it all with a smile?... fuck...

... I potentially fuck up my entire fucking term instead...

... from ten fucking minutes...

... from one fucking mistake...

... from one fucking mistake...

...

I tried pleading with the professors for half an hour, to at least write me a make-up test. But they refused to budge... They would do no such thing. Not for me... not when I was retaking this course and all...

Fuck.

I had no choice left but to petition the exam... no fucking choice but to petition...

But seriously, I've submitted petitions before... and got either no word back, or just a fucking denial as the laughing stock of an e-mail header...

I mean seriously, what are the fucking chances that the exam committee would actually pass me in the damn course anymore?...

Yes, I was and still am sick. Sick with the stomach flu, and maybe worse. I don't know...

Yes, I am passing that Friday course of mine with over a 60%. Close to class average... That normally gains some favour with the committee and all, but...

Fuck.

I am fucked.

So, so very fucked...

I mean seriously, what really are the fucking chances that the committee will pass my petition?... for the same fucking course that I fucking petitioned for last year...

They have my petition on record from last year. They know I failed Control Systems with a 48%. They know that I begged them for two more marks, and got nothing. They fucking know I'm on probation thanks to second term last year. They know I no longer have a clean record. They know I'm a fuck up. They know that I'm retaking this course. They know that I'm still not at class average...

They fucking know that I tried to con them last year.

... but fuck...

... I have no choice... no choice but to petition...

... so I did...

I got a doctor's note from a downtown clinic, and I handed it in to the Registrar's Office, praying that they wouldn't lose the damn thing... But the note wasn't specific enough. It mentioned stomach flu, vomiting, headaches, and diarrhea. But that wasn't good enough. I needed a source that the exam committee would actually trust...

So I went to the Koffler Medical Center at my university... and almost threw up on the screening nurse while I was there...

I wasn't just sick with the fucking stomach flu anymore. I was seriously stricken with panic. I think I was going to hurl from fear...

The doctor there wrote me a specific note. And thank God he diagnosed me as having a moderate to high fever after taking my temperature... because if he had put minimal? Then I'm sure my petition would never get passed...

Because even though I now have two doctors who confirmed that I was violently ill with the flu, even though I have two professors and two TAs all confirming that I was visibly sick in front of them... even though I only showed up only ten fucking minutes after the fucking hard deadline, and was there in front of the professors in "good faith" as they said?...

... still... also knowing that I failed this same goddam course last year, petitioned it, and was flat out denied?...

... seriously... what are the fucking chances that I'll pass the course anymore?...

... what are my fucking chances of passing the damn term anymore?...

... fuck...

... all from one fucking mistake...

... just ten fucking minutes...

... fuck...

...

From my dismally depressing birthday, to cramming while I was sick the night after... To sleeping through my goddam alarm clock. To fucking losing up to 5 or 10 minutes of my time from being too damn sick and stupid to just run up to my exam room... To even fucking not getting the third doctor's note that I wanted to while I was still really sick yesterday, before all the walk-in clinics closed down for the night...

... either yesterday was one of the worst fucking days in the history of my entire pathetic life...

... or?...

... perhaps it was the fucking luckiest day of my fucking goddam life...

... with the fates watching out for me once, I can only hope...

The truth of the matter is, I was so not fucking ready for the exam yesterday morning. Taking a look at the questions on it while I had the exam paper in my hand, I swear that along with my sickness, I would've failed that exam miserably... and possibly failed the course as well...

Still, if I had just made it on time, I still would've written that exam. I've never missed a quiz, test, midterm, or exam in my fucking life before. I'm not a risk taker... I would never roll the dice ike that...

And I certainly wasn't going to start doing so, by jeapardizing the last fucking term that I would ever have to endure in this god-forsaken university of mine...

I mean, fuck. Why the hell would I ever want to risk it all? Roll the dice, and pray to God that the exam committee passes my petition, otherwise I fail the whole fucking term?...

... that's the thing though...

I never would've made that choice.

But perhaps fate made it for me...

... as a belated birthday gift, if you will...

...

There were just so many little things yesterday that happened outside of the fucking missed exam, that kept whispering in my ear that yesterday was a fucking lucky day of mine...

When I went to buy video games while waiting for my doctor's appointment, I literally found every single fucking game (new or rare) that I wanted for cheap at the store I always frequent. I've never seen the games I've wanted there before in all the times I've visited in the past month, let alone all the games I wanted at the same exact time... So I bought a couple of them with the spare cash I had, if only as a misguided attempt to make myself feel better for so fucking up that morning...

When I went to photocopy one of my doctor's notes later that day, to have spare copies in hand to give to my professors and keep for myself, I put my money into the self photocopy machine... made my five or so copies... And at the end, instead of guzzling up my money like it should've, the library machine actually returned my coins. Not only that, but it fucking gave me a few extra quarters back as well. I actually made a fucking profit from the machine, for God knows whatever reason?... It's never done that for me before. It didn't do that for anyone else that day. Why start now?...

When I was riding on the bus back home, gas was 90 cents per litre where I live... I then drove my car to my local walk-in clinic, realized it had closed just 10 minutes before I arrived (ironically... nice figure... go figure...)... And then feeling dejected, I decided to get some gas... only to look up and realize, that just when I arrived, the gas price dropped to 85 cents a litre?... Sure, that's still a bloody hell a lot to pay for gas. But seriously, how the hell did the price suddenly drop just a minute before I arrived or so?...

And then when I went for gas... I only had $10 of cash on me, so that's all the gas I could get. I really didn't have enough coins leftover, to pay if I went over the $10 limit much or anything... So as the $9 mark approached on the gas cash register, I shut my eyes in fucking bitter pain, frustration and sorrow, at all the fucking moronic mistakes I had made these past few days... And when something in my head just clicked - just clicked - I lifted my finger from the nozzle trigger... looked up... and what do you know?...

Ten dollars exactly... on the cent...

... a perfect pump... without even looking...

... without even trying...

... seriously, what are the fucking odds?...

...

The odds are really what I want to know...

The House always win...

I rolled the dice with my fucking exam. I better not crap out with my fucking goddam term...

Either the fates were trying to tell me something with all my good luck later that day, that maybe missing the exam was a good thing?...

Or maybe the fates were just trying to compensate... sending me small tokens of favours, to fucking attempt to make up for fucking me over on my last fucking term of university...

... or maybe they were laughing at me?... rubbing it in... not like it really matters anymore...

Because either way, now I'm terrified.... I'm scared shitless, and still fucking sick with the stomach flu might I add...

I mean, seriously...

How the fuck did I get sick?

How the fuck did I sleep through my alarm?

Why the fuck wouldn't the TA just let me write the exam let I begged him to?

Why the fuck wouldn't the professors write for me a make-up test, like I've seen them do for so many other students?

And seriously...

Why the fuck was I sick?

Was it from stress?

Was it subconscious, considering my fucking brain knew I would fail that exam and possibly the whole damn course if I took it?...

Or was it just my own goddam stupidity?... My own goddam ignorance, fear, and maybe even sheer laziness...

What the fuck am I supposed to do now?...

What the fuck is wrong with me?

What the fuck happened?...

I am so, so fucked...

...

Like I said, yesterday was either the worst day of my fucking university life...

... or the fucking luckiest...

... I won't know until the exam committee meets on the May two-four weekend...

... that's a long time from now... a long time to live in cold fear...

All I do know, is that I'm now sitting at home... alone and depressed... and still fucking sick with the flu...

What a shitty, fucking week...

Everything is on the line.

I bet it all.

My course. My term. My year. My career. My trust. My pride...

I am so, so ridiculously fucked, that it's not even funny...

... or at least, it shouldn't be funny...

...

I mean, seriously...

When the fuck have I ever won?...

The House always wins...

Just wait until my parents learn of this story...

... oh, am I ever so fucked...

... so, so fucking fucked...

... that, heh... maybe at this point...

... even I'm finding it worth a laugh...

Y2kk Update: Fucking Carter...

Fucking Carter.

FUCKING CARTER!!!

FUCK!!!...

... uggh...

The Toronto Raptors had just one goddam job to do. Just one goddam job...

After three straight miserable exams this week, I just wanted one damn thing: for the fucking Toronto Raptors fans to fuck Vince Carter until he winced away in tears...

But that didn't happen, goddammit. The fans grew silent after the first quarter, and the fucking Toronto Raptors couldn't beat New Jersey of all fucking teams, even if their goddam lives depended on it...

All I asked was for one goddam win, to salvage something from this goddam, unbelievably bad year with Rob Babcock at the helm... He passed over triple-double Iguodala at the draft for Hoffa, a player he could've traded 10 spots down for, a fucking player who probably won't even be serviceable for two more years... He passed on a ton of youth and draft picks (although not great picks...) by playing hard to get and NOT trading Marshall at the trade deadline, for God knows what reason...

He fucking traded Carter for Alonzo Mourning (who we're paying $3+ million a year just to play for Miami), Aaron Williams (benchwarmer with a player option), and Eric Williams (who now wants to be bought out like Alonzo, since he hates Toronto so goddam much... and I just can't seem to disagree with him)... Hell, the Carter trade is now being touted and ridiculed as perhaps the worst goddam trade since Shaq to Miami, Pippen for Polynice, or even Robert Tractor Traylor for Dirk Nowitzki... now that's just goddam embarrassing...

... and last night's game proved it...

Because the only saving grace of the trade, was the two potential draft picks we were going to get... but thanks to fucking Babcock, we now have the fucking worst case scenario for the Raptors here... Our Phile pick is now useless, thanks to Cleveland and Orlando tanking to get the 76ers into the 7th spot by default. And now thanks to yesterday's win?... Now, even New Jersey is going to make the playoffs. BOTH of our fucking rival NBA teams are going to make the playoffs, while we tank yet again... all thanks to the nicest, bargain basement Babcock out there... still ever the dreamer of creating a new age Atlanta Hawks, I see...

I. HATE. BABCOCK.

And I. HATE. CARTER.

Fucking Carter...

All I asked for was a fucking win for the Raptors... There was no way Phile was not going to make the playoffs anymore. Our only goal was to make sure New Jersey didn't... We had everything to gain, nothing to lose. And then fucking Carter scores 39 easy goddam points on our goddam team, just to remind us of just how goddam stupid the men we're paying in office really are...

... Goddammit... after a week like this one? All I fucking wanted was a win...

... so that I wouldn't feel like such a loser for once...

...

I had three exams in three days... Yes, I like to brag how goddam hard that sounds. And of course, I'm sure I'll find a way to use it as some lameass excuse as to why I flopped and failed yet again this term, but...

Truth be told, I'm a huge whiner. A Wince Carter whiner... but as any Y2kk reader knows by now, I never really put any meaning behind my rants...

What I mean is, even though I did try hard all term long, I just don't study enough to really merit and actually be counted as being a hard worker... And when I do study a hell of a lot, like I tried for my 3rd year Computer Complexity course this year, I always fucking manage to study things wrong...

It's not always about being a hard worker. It's about learning from your mistakes, and I never fucking do...

Last year, I choked on the Complexity final. I forget why... but I can pretty much guess it was from the same reasons that killed me again this Wednesday... because some things never change...

There was one huge question on that Wednesday final worth about 30% of the marks. The fucking thing is, while I was studying, I never really bothered hard with that section of the course that was featured... Why? Because it was the absolute hardest thing in the entire course to memorize or learn. And I figured that since throughout the term tests, they only did much "easier" versions of the same type of question, that for sure as hell they would've give us a full blown one like that on the final...

... well, I thought wrong...

I probably got zero on that question, worth a third of the exam alone... and all fucking because I always find the dumbest excuses in my head to not study what's probably most important on the final...

And the saddest part was?... Sure, most of the people in that class complained that that question was too hard to do, especially in the short amount of time alotted... but the thing is, they still did it. The rest of the class still got that question. And why?... Because apparently, there was an almost exact, identical same question done on the 2002 exam for the course... and guess the fuck what? I was too fucking stupid to ever take a look at the 2002 final. Why? I don't know why... I just was too damn lazy, for God knows what reason... I never knew it was posted online. And I never checked if it was online... Why? That's the same question I'm asking myself now... WHY?...

One exam down.

Fuck.

...

The second exam went a bit better... I mean, it was Internetworking, where all the course topics are blindingly, embarrassingly easy for any damn programmer who's been using the internet for the better part of their waking lives...

But alas, as always, the U of T engineering profs always find a way to fuck us over with exams and the marking schemes... which is how I ended up with 37% in the fucking midterm, but I digress once again...

Well, the final was easier than the midterm, that's for sure. Even I could feel it as I was writing it... and that's when I just knew I would get fucked, by everyone else in my goddam class of geniuses...

So I took a look around. And just one hour into the final, guess the hell what?... I saw literally half of the damn class fucking doodling on their papers. And why?...

Because to all those fucking assholes, this was one of the easiest goddam exams they've ever had... And they were already done double checking all their fucking answers, with another fucking hour and a half left to go... uggh...

After the exam was done, I was confident that I passed. But if I was able to pass, then you know that everyone else on the fucking exam probably aced the damn thing with a perfect score... And whenever I asked around? Everyone did their fucking high school prick routines again. They whimpered, "oh, I think I did okay..." or "oh, I think I'll pass...", while wearing that fucking smug smile that just tells me the truth, that they were 100% sure of every fucking answer they put down on the sheet... God...

But being the odd man out wasn't the real thing that pissed me off that day... well, being the odd man out in another way during the exam did, however...

The thing is, all my friends sitting behind me in the exam room were whispering to each other the answers for the exam, throughout the whole damn exam... Eventually, a lot of other people got so pissed at them that they actually "sshhed" them loud enough for the distant TAs to finally hear something. But that didn't stop them from talking... for pretty much two damn hours (since they seemingly finished the damn exam in half an hour), they were just talking and discussing the answers, fixing small things here and confirming every single other thing there...

Now, don't get me wrong. I love cheating... I''ve never cheated in my life. But hell, given the chance, I'd fucking cheat my ass out of that exam if I could, but...

... the thing is, I couldn't cheat... why?...

Because my fucking friends were fucking inconsiderate, by fucking only discussing things in their fucking languages.

There was no English involved. It was all coded in their Indian and Pakistani languages... and guess the fuck what? All my friends were able to get the same answers as each other in the end, with all my friends potentially getting 100 fucking percent on this goddam exam...

... except for me...

After the exam, when I half-joked that they should've said something in English so I could understand, I could see the expression on their faces: "whoops"... yeah, they forgot all about me... But instead of even joking back or playing nice or something, they sadly sternly told me, "you should've asked us for the answers"...

... and, umm... hello? The TAs may not have been able to hear them, but they can fucking see us moving. My friends were fucking sitting behind me, and the TAs were all fucking sitting in front of me. To get my friends to even hear what the fuck I was saying, or even to get their attention, I would need to fucking move. And I wasn't going to fucking take that chance...

... instead, all my friends will fucking get perfect... hell, probably the entire damn class will end up getting perfect...

... and as for me?...

... well... I'll drag down the class average yet again...

... hopefully to the point of fucking normalization, which will help everyone else who did well but me, I'm sure...

... and nobody will ever thank me for doing that...

... nobody ever does...

... who ever thanks someone, for being a loser?...

...

My third exam was Economics. Fucking Economics... taught by a chartered accountant from my University of Toronto's MBA Rotman program, for God knows what reason...

The concepts were all easy in that Economics course. It may have been a fourth year course for us engineers, but I've heard the textbook is used by only 2nd or 3rd year business students or something... But the thing is, if the midterm was any indication, the fucking accountant professor absolutely massacred us all with the fucking math he gave us. None of the formulas were difficult... But he just keeps on appending special clause after fucking special clause, that you don't know what the fuck is left and right anymore. And then he gave me big fat zeroes whenever I didn't get the fucking final answer right... so I got 44% on that midterm... go figure...

Well, I won't go into it much (although you can guess what, if you check out my complaints about the midterm long time ago). But thanks to my friends 'seemingly' feeling guilty for fucking me over on the Internetworking final (both by ignoring me with their cheating, and by pissing me off with their constant blabbering from behind...), they definitely did 'help' me on the final... not during the final, since I'm too pansy ass to ever talk or cheat during an exam (of course, they did...). But they definitely knew their stuff beforehand, and they helped me through it...

... it helped quite a bit in the exam room...

The thing is, I guess the Economics exam didn't go as badly as I thought at first. I mean, I got close to what most people got for half of the answers at least, which hopefully will ensure that I get a safe and assured pass in the course... or at least, I hope I did...

The thing is, now I can't be so sure of anything. Because thanks my fucking panic mode, I noticed that I did a fundamental thing wrong on one of the major questions on the exam, worth 15% of the mark... So with only ten minutes left in the fucking exam, I hurried and scurried my way to correcting it, with all its fucking PW, MARR, and AE values fucking me over in the Economics Service Life and Replacement Plan sort of question...

I thought I finished it in time... The professor then told us to put our pencils down...

Smiling in relief that I had just saved myself 15% of the marks on that exam... I then looked down at the PW reference sheets that we were given... and then to the fucking PW reference sheet that I was using for that specific question for the last ten minutes...

... and, umm...

I WAS FUCKING USING THE WRONG REFERENCE SHEET?!... while I was fucking redoing the question?!...

I had that fucking question more right in the first place, then after I fucked it over with the fucking wrong reference sheet values?!

WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO?!...

... God...

We were given three reference sheets, divided by WACCs of 6%, 10%, and 15%... and I was fucking using the wrong fucking sheet for that question... and I had no fucking time to fix my mistake, of trying to fix my damn mistake in the first place...

And of course, now I'm terrified... Did I fuck up the same fucking way on all my other questions? I was conscious of the sheet differences for the first hour of the exam, I know that... But once panic mode started to settle in as a I correcting answers, did I royally fuck myself over on everything, when I could've had the right answers in the first place?...

Now I know that I've lost at least 15 marks there, and another 10 marks somewhere else... and already I'm getting dangerously close to a fucking fail on that fucking exam, if I fucked anything else up that I can't remember...

...

No matter whether I'm ready for a fucking exam or not, I always make one fucking fatal mistake.

It's like I have a fucking quota or something.

It's like I have a fucking, tragic flaw or some shit like that...

Whether it's ignoring the key past finals in Complexity, not cheating on a fucking exam, or fucking messing me up with reference sheets that all look identical at first glance, I always find a way to fuck up my fucking life, and drag down the class average for the benefit of all my fucking friends...

... but I ain't gonna blame my friends... I still owe them for Economics, considering I would've been lost without them...

... and regardless of whether I should or not, I ain't gonna blame myself... I just prefer to whine, that's all...

But I am going to fucking blame the fucking Toronto Raptors.

I am going to fucking blame Bargain Basement, fucking Babcock.

Fucking year of the cock, indeed...

FUCK.

I fucking bet my exam success on yesterday's fucking game!...

... I fucking crapped out... thanks to fucking Vince Carter...

Fucking Carter.

Fucking Carter!

I HATE YOU VINCE!

FUCKING ASSHOLE CARTER!!!...

... goddammit...

... I only asked for one damn thing... for one damn win...

I never win.

Y2kk Update: Well, congrats go out to all those Chicago Bulls fans out there...

You did it. After 7 long years, you finally did it... you finally clinched a playoff spot...

And to be honest, I don't know why I'm feeling as bad about it all as I do right now... Yeah, I'm a Toronto Raptors diehard fan. A fever pitch for the ol' peach basket, if you will... And yeah, your Bulls just fucking massacred the Raptors, General Custard style...

But this season for us Raptor fans has been just so unbelievably bad - Rob Babcock as our GM has been just so unbelievably bad - that I want the damn Raps to tank every single game that we have left, just so we could salvage something with a top 5 draft pick or something this off-season...

... well, I've been on the tank train for about a couple weeks by now, hoping that our team would just kill themselves off like the Milwaukee Bucks and the New York Knicks seem to be doing instead of us...

But I don't know... just something is eating away at me right now...

Tonight, we saw tears in Chris Bosh's eyes... He was so damn frustrated with losing on the Toronto Raptors, that he was actually on the verge of tears...

The announcers said something while I was watching that, while I was remarking at that... They said that only after you really can't stand losing anymore - that's when you can finally start winning...

... and I don't know... something just clicked in me... or just depressed me to hell, like pretty much everything else in my goddam life...

...

History is repeating itself all over again for me. And yes, I am afraid.

I just can't stand losing in my goddam Uiversity of Toronto anymore...

I seriously am tanking every single course this term next to Software Engineering II... of course, I ain't tanking on purpose... but "tank" is quite the right word here, in my engineering division at least... Soft Eng II  is my only bright spot right now, and yet even that course can't shine bright enough to keep me afloat and finally get me done my goddam final school term at this goddam university...

I need 60% as my term average to pass, otherwise I have to take the entire damn term over again... 60% isn't hard to get...

So why the fuck do I always seem to do so damn badly in second terms, no matter how much harder I try?...

In Economics, I got 44% on that midterm. Class average was 60%... Sure, I managed to do alright on the assignments. But even with those, I'm still only going into the final with a 60%. A 60% in a fucking bird course... Just like my goddam horrid marks in my bird courses last term. Except last term, at least I had a bunch of decent marks in other courses to boost me up...

But what the fuck do I have this term?...

I got back my second test from Computer Complexity, one of the goddam courses I'm retaking from third year this term... I came out of that test, smiling to myself that I did exceptionally well. I seriously had dreams of getting 80% on that midterm, securing me a pass in this goddam course...

... and then a goddam double bombshell just bitch-slapped that smile right off my goddam face...

I got that test back... and I got 44% on it? WTF?... What the fuck is with me and fucking 44 percents in second terms? Didn't I get 44% or something on my OS midterm last year, after thinking that I would ace that goddam test?...

And then I got my second assignment back in that Complexity course... A 37%? A fucking 37%? What the fuck is wrong with me?... I'm taking the course a second time, and understanding concepts a hell of a lot more than I did last year. Or so I thought...

And yet I'm fucking doing worse in this course this year, compared to the same time last year? What the fuck is wrong with me?...

... and the numbers on my goddam tests, are just goddam mocking me...

44% here... 44% there...

37% there... 37% here... and 37% here yet again, just somehow... fucking somehow...

Because I know that I mentioned my 37% midterm in Internetworking a week or more ago. I was shaking my head in disgust at my mark back then, although I was at least comforted by the goddam fact that the average for that midterm was a mere 49%...

But then we got to hand in our midterms for remarking... obviously, everyone did. Even the select few people who got 90s... Everyone wanted more marks...

... and from what I saw of others, everybody got more marks back...

I literally saw two people in front of me get their midterms back with double their original mark... My friends all increased their percentages on that midterm by at least 20-30%. Hell, one of my friends even rose from a 60% all the way to a goddam A in that course...

... the course average rose from a 49% to a fucking 62% from that goddam remark alone...

... and what did I get back?...

... a fucking 37%...

... the same fucking 37% that I gave in for a remark in the first place...

... apparently, I was the only goddam retard in the class, who actually deserved the mark he got in the first place...

... what are the fucking odds?...

... the first time I got my midterm back with a 37%, I didn't really care that much. I wasn't the only one who lost out at the time, so I took solemn solace in the fact that simply put, I was not alone...

... I'm alone now, though...

...

... and yeah... just something in those eyes of Chris Bosh on television today... I dunno...

... they just reminded me of my own eyes when I got back that 37% for the second damn time the other day...

... my friends didn't give a damn about me... they all had design project crap to do, and they left me out in the cold...

... I was literally alone... cold and bitter, and fucking bitterly cold... I can't blame them, but still... fucking assholes...

... and yeah, I may not have cried... but still...

... for the first time in a long time, I think I did feel a tug at the corner of my eye... or something...

I just can't stand losing anymore.

I'm now officially the third last student in that entire goddam course...

... sure, I pity those two fools who are somehow even lower than I am, but...

Seriously, what the fuck?!

It's a fucking easy course. Or at least, that's what I thought...

Why do I never fucking catch a break?

Why can I never, ever fucking catch a goddam break?

Why?!... I just wish I knew why...

...

It's heartbreaking, really... having to repeatedly fail over and over and over again, without any real hope of ever being able to turn it around...

I knew, I goddam knew at the start of this term, that I seem to always fucking fail in second terms... I knew that, fucking hell...

So last summer, I purposely chose for myself the easiest courses I could find for my second term. That was supposed to be Economics and Internetworking, and look how those two are goddam backfiring on me now...

This term, I knew I had to go to class to get the job done. So I did... Seriously, Internetworking is the first goddam course that I've attended almost every fucking lecture since goddam first year. I never thought I'd have the patience to do that, not since high school at least... but I did it for this course. Why? Because the course material was interesting. And because I fucking knew I had to get serious if I was going to do well this second term...

And yet look at me! Fucking look at me, and look at how pathetic I've become still, despite all my best efforts...

What the fuck does it take to break out of this endless, goddam loop?...

I've worked my ass off this term more than any other term in my university life, I think... Granted, most of that work has been for Software Engineering II, and not the other courses that I'm taking and retaking this term... But I still put my heart and soul into every Internetworking midterm and project I did... I still studied my ass off for Economics... and look where it got me...

History repeats itself. I'm right back where I fucking started...

... it's all full circle...

... because hells bells... the fucking knell is tolling... and I'm fucked...

It's once again the week of exams. I have three fucking exams this week, starting this Wednesday - all three fucking exams in a row...

How the fuck am I to survive?...

I really don't know...

... all I do know is, I'm so sick of losing... I really am...

What does it fucking take, to turn it all around?...

... I've even thought of giving up my websites from time to time... they serve as a distraction... and hell, I waste more time on my noname site alone, than I do on some of my courses... or at least, I did during the early months of this term...

... and yet despite ignoring my noname, tweakui, download, AND msn sites for all of March, I'm still fucking failing almost every single fucking course that I have this second term... I still failed every fucking test and assignment I did in that fucking month off from online venting...

Why the fuck can't I fucking catch a break?...

... I'm being broken down here... I really am...

... a broken record, really...

... tears in the eyes... and a broken fucking pride...

... that's really the only break I've ever gotten...

I just can't stand this feeling anymore.

It makes me sick.

... if only I could get a goddam petition for that...

... if only...

Y2kk Update: Well... now it's officially official...

Microsoft e-mailed me back. I didn't get past the first damn interview, goddammit...

And now? Now, I just feel woefully inadequate inside...

I mean, my friend who works at Microsoft, who got me the interview in the first place? He's pretending like it's all Microsoft's fault, screwing me over with a hard ass interview and all... but before I took the interview, and still in his heart I know, he knows that any damn competent bastard should be able to pass the first Microsoft interview, programming questions or not...

... well, competent is the key word there... so no wonder I didn't pass the interview...

...

This week, I was semi-vindicated thanks to that Internetworking File-Sharing Kazaa project I had to do in a day...

... because I did it... in a single day and a half, I coded both the server and the client, with supernodes structures that could handle almost every single possible crash in the system (well, maybe not... but for all intents and purposes, and for what the TAs would mark, it was network crash proof...)...

I speed coded it all though... I woke up at 8 in the morning that day thanks to literally nightmares about the coding project. I then programmed my ass off all the way until 2 in the morning, when I finally settled down to sleep... I couldn't sleep though. I can never sleep, or even shut my eyes without seeing the damn bugs that were still plaguing the computer program that I was working on. So half an hour later of lying awake in bed, I sped back down to my working computer, fixed the damn bug by 3, and slept like a baby after that...

... because the program worked... after one damn day, I did what my Microsoft friend couldn't do in a week...

... and guess what? We actually got perfect on the assignment...

... sure, the TAs were giving away 90%-100% to every single group, as if marks were two dollar steaks and whores. But hey, you still needed a working program to get any marks. And while all the bells and whistles that I had programmed into the crash proof network system weren't really needed in the end for marks, at least my clueless TA was "very impressed" with the fact that we could simulate multiple IP roaming changes, on multiple clients simultaneously, and yet the network would still properly reconfigure itself for file queries across ten or more supernodes (or hundreds of clients)... and hey, I was proud of that at least...

... small victories...

The thing is, even after getting perfect...

Yes, deep down inside, I know my partners were grateful... They were too busy with their Design Project demo to care about this project much. So obviously they were grateful that I took it off their hands...

And one of my friends thanked me repeatedly for doing all the programming in a single day... I like being appreciated. And yes, as egotistical as this is, I like being complimented for the damn fact, that I did in a day what they couldn't do in a week... and at least, one of my friends recognized it...

But my Microsoft friend?...

... well, he's a really cool guy. He's nice, and I still owe him big for even getting me that interview in the first place...

Did he thank me for doing this assignment? Of course... just not as whole heartily as I had hoped he would...

He sent me a few "thanks" over MSN Messenger. And of course he gave me a quick thanks in school...

But the thing is... I don't know...

... maybe it's just because, thanks to the MS interview, I feel so damn woefully inadequate compared to him, but...

... even though all he said was completely true, and even though he didn't say it seriously...

... it still kinda stung me, when he criticized my programming...

I mean, yes my programming was a complete and utter piece of shit. My words to him exactly... And why? Well, half because I am an utter shit programmer. And half because...

I ONLY HAD A SINGLE FRICKIN' DAY TO PROGRAM THE WHOLE DAMN THING...

I took thousands of shotgun shortcuts. I programmed object oriented Java with static functions and global variables everywhere, as if I was coding good ol' C... And as my friend noted, I even used an ArrayList with a String Tokenizer, leaving a ton of inefficient redundancy. And why? Because I didn't know that String Tokenizers do everything than ArrayLists do in the end... it was the first damn time I used a string tokenizer, afterall...

My coding was awful. I knew it, and I took great pride in it... why? Because I coded it all in a single day... and it showed...

... my badge of honour... my battle scar, if you will...

... and it goddam worked...

... and as my friend said about me... "He gets it to work. He never thinks about how. He just gets it to work"...

... which is exactly what I always say about myself, but...

... goddammit...

... I don't know... it still kinda stung, coming from him...

Half because he criticized me (jokingly, of course... but still) without ever enthusiastically thanking me first, unlike my other group partner did... And maybe half because, yeah... he sort of reminded me of my Microsoft interview then and there, actually...

I am not a smart programming... I rarely think ahead. I really can't think ahead... I have no sense of the art of programming whatsoever... I'm no chess player. I can't think four moves in advance. And I ain't even a decent clinical programmer to boot...

I get things to work. I test things, and get them to goddam work... I get the job done.

But that just wasn't good enough in the Microsoft interview, now was it?...

My solution to their interview program did work... but it was completely inefficient compared to the "right" solution. And because I just don't plan ahead, because I just can't goddam see three steps ahead like my friend, I'm just goddam useless to the corporate cause then...

... and I don't know... I guess my friend's criticism was just a painful reminder, that yes... I'm just not as good as he is...

He didn't get the program to work. I did.

But he would've programmed it right...

... even if I had the time, I seriously doubt I would have done the same...

... I just don't know how to... I'm really just not smart enough...

It's as simple as that.

I wish I were though...

... smart enough to see ahead...

... I'm goddam colour blind...

... but for now, I'll just take that 100% we got on that goddam Internetworking assignment, buckle up for the final week of my Software Engineering II massive program, and just shut the hell up...

... because I got it to work. For Internetworking...

... like I wanted... like I promised... like I swore...

... no, it wasn't pretty... but in a single goddam day?... in a single, goddam day, I got it to work...

... small victories...

Bitch.

Y2kk Update: Well, it's official...

Microsoft officially hates me.

They didn't call me back.

Motherfuckers...

...

Eh, the STE interview was a longshot anyhew. Sure, I'm still pissed that I got a hardcore coding question on the spot, while my friend got some wussy ass testing one instead, like I wanted in the damn first place...

But still, it's embarrassing. My friend got me this interview, expecting that any sort of code monkey could get past the first interview with ease. And yet I made him look like an idiot, because I goddam choked on the spot...

... just fucking great...

... and, well...

I do have other means of redeeming myself in the eyes of the Lords of programming. Unfortunately, they're sort of mandatory means, if I want to get any sort of marks whatsoever in school, and finally get out of this fucking bitch of a university...

I've spent two damn weeks straight on my Software Engineering II project for the year. It's just a fucking CVS kind of file synchronization, concurrent editing system, for multiple graph types and other pointless shit like that... Nothing special. If you saw my project in person, you'd think a two dollar idiot could've programmed what I've done...

The whole project (programming and SRS documents and all) is worth 60% of my final grade in the course, however... And while I was standing away in Church on Easter Sunday, trying to keep my back straight while feeling aching pain like a goddam old man, I finally realized something... a moment of clarity...

My program didn't fucking work.

Fucking hell. After more than a damn week, my program didn't work...

... uggh...

So I made a resolve that morning... to finish my damn Soft Eng assignment, no matter what the cost that day...

... and I did it...

... after ten or eleven straight hours of being butt fucked right up the ass by my computer, I pretty much did finish the huge ass assignment...

... well, that one assignment anyhew...

Because while I did that one, I still have my Internetworking Kazaa programming assignment left to do...

... and I only have one damn day left to do it all... all of it... uggh...

... gotta start, I mean...

... choices, choices... where were my priorities?... flying dick, my ass...

I never make good decisions... but at least after the Microsoft fiasco, my Soft Eng assignment gives me something to feel proud of for once...

...

The thing is, I don't want to just feel proud of doing a damn programming assignment anymore.

I want money, goddammit!

Why can't I at least be paid for the interview?

Where's my goddam minimum wage?

Give me back my five bucks, you Microsoft bitch!...

... uggh...

... I was so hoping for actual income for once, just for once...

... and maybe for a job, that would actually garner me some respect (and maybe some loathing and fear) amongst my peers for once...

... but noooo... once again, I get shafted right up the ass... especially considering the fact that no other company (not even crappy Deloitte of all damn companies) is giving me a call for an interview...

...

Last week was the Design Fair for my year at the University of Toronto. It's when all the graduating engineers get to show off the real-world projects they've been working on for the past nine or so months. And some projects were really damn cool... There was a wifi, adhoc bittorrent client for PDAs. There was a distributed, streaming video system that reduces UDP loss by having multiple sources send segments at once, ala Bittorrent style. And of course, there was my close friends' project, about getting live road traffic feeds from across the GTA, appear onto both your cellphone and your PDA in real-time... It was pretty damn cool, and a hell of a lot of work from what I hear...

The thing is, sure I was still dressed up that design fair day, thanks to having my Microsoft interview and all...

But I just felt so damn woefully inadequate compared to all the other people around me...

I mean, sure some of them were dressed basically in civies. Hell, a couple of Chinese bitches were literally dressed in their Hong Kong slutware while presenting their project big board, much to the gawking and googling delight of all the eighty year old virgin professors there...

But most presenters were in a dress shirt at least. Some were dressed up as hell in a suit and tie...

And I just felt so out of place, you know? I just feel bad for not taking the design project this year...

Sure, it would've given me a hell of a lot more work to do than I already have. But still... there's just something so satisfying, about completing a big ass project like my friends did last Thursday...

... I don't know... I guess I just want something to be proud of for once...

... and all I'm left with, are damn assignments that I've been left with... because all my friends were doing their design projects and had no time for their regular class shit...

... damn...  I wish I could con a moron like me into doing all their work...

... sigh... that would be something to be proud of, at least...

... without a single damn phone call back...

... fucking bitch...

... flamemycrowsoft, indeed...