Exams and patheticness

Hello, people who never read my blog (and who I'll never encourage to do so).

I've slightly disappeared from the foreground since I have exams, exams I must pass otherwise I can forget Congo this summer. Anyway, today's Friday, I have maths Monday, I should be studying but I'm calling it an afternoon. I'm dealing with the post-traumatic effects of my Dutch Literature exam. First oral exam ever. I think I looked slightly green when I entered the class. I also think my voice barely rose up above 'mice' level and I had symptoms of young age Parkinson's. You know, the disease that makes you tremble. Also,  I stuttered. But apart from that I think it went quite well. Apart from the part where she corrected me, you know, like twice.

So I've decided to wipe this incident from my mind, because if I start to brood it's going to take me down. On the upside (oh, look, an oxymoron!); the program I put on my calculator to cheat at the chemistry exam worked perfectly and proved to be extremely useful. Really, I would never have found those coefficients by myself. They're bitchy things, especially in combination with stoichiometry.

Enough about the extremely boring matter I handled today. Only problem, I don't have anything interesting to tell. Apart from the fact my little brother's friends like me because I'm ridiculous. Which is, as a matter of fact, quite depressing. Just as much as this item.I think I'm going to go watch an old classic movie where every one dies, or something. All Quiet On The Western Front, or something. Gone With The Wind or Camille. So I can cry sad, pathetic girly tears and pretend I'm just another hormonal screwed up teenager.

Had another row with mum yesterday, about a frequently discussed subject: she doesn't like the way I laugh. I must say that in the moment I had a terrible urge to bitch-slap her across the face. How I laugh is my goddamn business. If I can't choose that, then what the hell can I choose?
Supposedly this laugh of mine is vulgar, 'Boers' she said, and trying to stay on the funny side of things I pointed out that that wasn't very respectful of the old South-African colonist's descent. She literally exploded. It was big, scary and loud, and if I'd let her, there would have been blood. It might have been that of the meat she was occupied  with, but it would have splattered like it did in the shower scene of that 'Psycho' movie of Hitchcock.

But I didn't let her. I can do my fair bit of venom talking, especially around family, where I'm not afraid to shout it out loud. I started with a decent argument, that it was my bloody laugh, my bloody very obvious way of showing I find something funny, and that since she was obviously the only one bothered I wouldn't change it for her, thank you very much.
She then deflected, saying she wished I'd be a little more feminine. I added that I'd wish she be a little less like a teenager running high on hormones (she's worse than me most of the time) and since I've been into the Stones lately, I quipped a quintessential (god I love that word, I'm sure I use it wrongly but I love it) "You Can't Always Get What You Want" at her, thus closing the argument and winning. I was still seething though. She wants me to be more open and social, but if she thinks I better shut up because my laugh is vulgar, then what the hell does she want? Well I said it already: whatever it is, she's not getting it.

Free Time

Ah! It's weekend! Seriously, this part of the week took forever to arrive. Like it mostly does.
I'm sure there are loads of people who said fantastic things about the weekend. Let's take a look to all those guys who had the art of the good reply. (I'm only doing this 'cause I don't really feel like writing today. Not right now, anyway)

Weekends don't count unless you spend them doing something completely pointless. -- Bill Watterson

Tell that to my parents!

There aren't enough days in the weekend. -- Rod Schmidt 

God how right you are...

Of all the days that's in the week
I dearly love but one day
And that's the day that comes betwixt
A Saturday and Monday.
-- Henry Carey

I truly couldn't have said it better. Except I love Saturday even more than Sunday.

Give a man a fish and he has food for a day; teach him how to fish and you can get rid of him for the entire weekend. -- Zenna Scha 

How deliciously controversial.

 Always strive to excel, but only on weekends. -- Richard Rorty 

I love a party person, don't you?

I thank all the great people who allow me to develop a sense of wit.