So It Starts. Again.

After my long and involved summer of insanity you would think that I would welcome the start of another semester with open arms.  You would be very mistaken.  

While everyone I've talked with (and unintentionally eavesdropped on) go on and on about how they are so happy to be going back to class and seeing all their friends and opening up brand new books and having their horizons expanded yet another mile in every direction, all I can think about is how much I want to bury my head under a pile of sand and never have to come up again for air.  It's not just the tests or the papers or the having to sit in a classroom with 69 other people for hours listening to a professor talk about how he is the greatest and smartest person I will ever meet.  It's also the fact that I know 49 of the 69 people in that classroom and none of them are really willing to talk to me or sit next to me or acknowledge me at all.  It's the fact that I go weeks without speaking to anyone outside my home despite my best efforts to appear "approachable" (I even started leaving my iPod at home!) and make arrangements with people myself.  

I'd be lying if I i said that loneliness was the only reason why I'm so entirely dreading the next 8 months of my life because the stress of having to have the perfect tests and the stand-out papers every time.   My memory is exceptionally bad when it comes to facts and dates and theories so my tests are never perfect -- I always miss that one crucial point and kick myself as soon as it's over.  My brain is scattered and I can never write in a strait line, so I'm always being docked on my oh-so-awkward sentences (awk, awk, awk).  

These are just excuses.  Maybe I'm just lazy.  

I sometimes look at getting a masters degree at some prestigious school abroad.  The things I would learn would be amazing (I think), and I would probably get some nice fancy job (I would hope).  But when I think of another year (or two) of school I cringe and revert back to wanting to either crawl into a cave and hide in the dark, or burry my head in the sand until this horrible idea blows over like a bad storm.  

I probably should have been an electrician.  

The Mating Rituals of Monkeys

I've been going to the university gym a lot lately as part of my new, get-out-of-this-freaking-rut mission 2008.

Going to the gym regularly, however, has shown me a whole new aspect of university life that I have only really seen on television. You see, I have always enjoyed working out. Going to the gym and working up a good sweat has always been a feeling that I enjoyed. That moment when you're on the stationary bike and you start to really work up a sweat (after the initial feeling like you're legs are going to fall off and you're going to die in a horribly mangled stationary bike accident in front of everyone...) and get the sensation that you're realling accomplishing something, can be pure bliss. The best part though is when you finish the cardio and you have that pleasant strain in your legs that you know will hurt you more later, but you don't really mind because it means that you've done something right.

Those are the reasons why I have returned to the gym.

For other people, the reasons are a bit more... animalistic.

Here enters the university gym as a jungle mating ground rather than anything else.

The first species one notices when entering the gym, is the common fitness atendant. Akin to the bonobo monkey, the common fitness attendant is prone to solving his or her social problems through sexual encounters and conquest. With their keen ability to view all the animals in jungle (or all the people in the gym), the bonobo is able to pick out the most attractive candidate for a mate. Constant preening and an affinity for shiny objects like mirrors, makes the fitness attendant the "prettiest" of all the species in this particular jungle.

Once a position is established within the jungle, an observer can easily spot the large overzealous weight trainer, usually compared to the silverback gorilla. Acting as the centre of attention within his troop of weight-lifters, the dominant silverback makes overt displays of masculinity to gain followers and increase his prominance and dominance within the jungle. I myself have been enveloped withing the clan of crazy cardio. With the shared desire to work our legs and lungs until our faces are so red we begin to appear sub human. We are the lemurs working hard and watching the real action unfold around us as we busily and happily continue on with our lives.

The groups that I find most interesting to watch while I'm dying on the bike in my keen and watchful state, is the group of people who go to the gym primarily to find a mate. Made up of both males and females, this species of gym-goer is closely related to the baboon when comparing mating and courtship behaviour. The lack of interest in actual exercise and focus on showing signs of interest and availability demonstrates the baboonity of the common gym-courter.

Finally there are the older members of the gym who you see wandering around the equipment and contemplating working out... but never really do. This special group of individuals has been known to draw ties from the Emperor Tamarin. Wise and soulful looking, the Tamarin looks as though it knows what it's doing and presents a knowing and friendly facade, it is actually quite viscious when it comes to someone stealing what they believe is rightfully theirs.

check marks

I don't know if it's just me, but it's kind of stunning when you look and realize that you only need four more classes to graduate from university. When you see that you have far more check marks than "x"'s, it feels a little bit strange, like I should feel more complete or something... hmmm.

Winter-time

Walking down the street
I just can't help but think
that my toes
are
cold.

The Oval

I'm not a very good skater and I never have been, but for some reason I decided to go skating this afternoon. Aside from the constant ache of my feet that started about 7 minutes after my blades touched the ice, and the initial realization that all the other people there were either couples or parents with their three-year-olds, it was really nice to feel myself glide across the ice again. And no, I don't mean feel my ass glide across the ice after I fall flat (I didn't do that this time!). It was like anything else after a while, just me and the ice. It was really neat, all I had to do was think about not skating into anyone and that was it! Nothing else was in my head at all. It was bliss...

Of course, this reverie usually only lasted about 4 minutes, about at which time some hockey player, speed skating champion, or figure skater up for the Olympics would pass me while showing off for whoever he or she (but usually a he) was with. I then had one minute to get back into the zone, and four minutes to stay there.

If I was smart (rather than a dumbass), I would have thought of this sooner.
Live and Learn I guess.

The Inuit and I

In my first year of university I took an anthropology class. The class was mandatory and probably a good 2/3 of the 450 person class thought the professor was a complete flake, so as a result I couldn't really give you any details about what I 'learned' from that class. Seriously, all I can remember about the native peoples of New Guinea and West Africa was that they tended to be naked in most of the films we watched. However, my memory is oddly vivid and detailed when I think of the time we spent studying the Inuit.

Living in the extreme conditions of the cold white north, the Inuit relied on each other completely and entirely for their own survival. It was (and still is I guess) impossible to survive by your self, and perfect unquestionable cooperation within the tribe was essential. All people in the Inuit tribe had to appear happy, content, or at least placid or else the rest of the tribe would fear that they would loose the flow of their society. So. In order to prevent that from happening, if ever a tribe member was depressed, pissed-off or in any way unhappy, the rest of the tribe would deal with it by simply picking up all their belongings and leaving in the middle of the night without telling the offending malcontent and therefore leaving him to elements to basically die.
I guess this is a pretty extreme circumstance and that minor offenders would just end up being shunned withing the community for the rest of their life or until one day they woke up and saw that they were all alone.

Sometimes I think this lifestyle is brilliant. Non-confrontational solutions to every possible problem that may come up seems absolutely perfect compared to the way I'm used to things. All my life I've been pretty content to just go along with the flow and do what I'm told without any questions and be happy with everything that comes my way. But lately I've been somewhat less than satisfied with the way my life is going... which is to say nowhere.

My parents are at a complete loss as to how to deal with this new me that is unsatisfied, has developed a belated sense of pride and despondence (I know that they don't quite go along together, but... whatever!). I'm not saying that my family has gone and disappeared from my home in the middle of the night leaving me to fend for myself in the cold. But today, for the third time, my mother has asked me to consider going to a doctor and asking about anti-depressants.
So, the Inuit used to (or still do... I don't really remember that part of the lecture) abandon the unhappy individuals of their community to face the elements alone, and my mum tries to get me to take drugs.

I find this a very interesting comparison, because to me, they are both exactly the same.