The best way to waste your life is by taking notes.

Why Sarah loves Rob, the English prof:

• Unlike last term's "just call me Heather" first name English prof fiasco, Rob ironed out the first name issue with "just don't call me shitbag because I'm sensitive, and I'll cry."

• When asked if we could bring anything to our in-class essay (last year Heather allowed us to bring just a pen and paper, no books/notes etc), Rob replied with "Well, you can bring your book. A page, no, two pages of notes. And a dictionary if you want. Just no thesauruses, they make me spaz out. Big words are not the solution."


• Rob takes the time to explain the important things about Catcher in the Rye. "You know, Holden is like a Smurf. And the society around him is those mushroom houses. Wait, no. Society is like an organic home that grows with you, and Holden is too fat to fit."


• [Faint beeping of a backing up truck heard from outside] "What is with all this noise?! Is it an amusement park in here? I CAN YELL TOO YOU KNOW. Man, is anyone else trying to quit smoking?"

The number one reason I love Rob the English prof? When jokingly asked if we can have the questions for this week's test (worth ten percent of our final grade), Rob responds with:

• "Um, well I did get the questions photocopied yesterday. God damn copy ladies and their trickery. Yeah, so pick them up on your way out."

To whom the mornings are like nights, what must the midnights be!

Sarah is feeling super sorry for herself at this moment. It is sucking.

This weekend, with the exception of Saturday night, was featureless. Friday's plans went to hell because of weather and today was spent studying and as mentioned earlier, feeling sorry for myself.

I feel like everyone is figuring out life but I haven't even been given the equation. Everyone seems sure of themselves and more importantly sure of the people around them. I am debating the stability of both.

Saturday night I ventured up to Holly's with cooked chicken dinner (à la Phyllis) and chocolate pie (à la Sobeys). I wasn't expecting much, a night of movies and watching drunk Hatcher residents stumble about. But some how randomly it turned into Holly/Sarah explain themselves night.

We basically had open forum and it didn't end with me mentally gouging Holly's out. Absolutely the opposite, I envisioned hugging and happiness.

Oh, and the boy across the hall offered to find three guys (himself included!) to strip for me. What a kind gesture. The people of Hatcher sure know how to make a girl feel special.

I also met him. Yeah, you all know who I'm talking about. I played Mommy and grilled him, but I must say I didn't do a very good job. His roommate's make-shift gun and target practice had me a little too distracted.

So this week starts with a bland outlook on life. Which is kind of awful because my Monday's determine my whole week. Maybe a little Stephenville flavoured coffee to cheer me up? Let's hope so.

If you want things to stay as they are, things will have to change.

Staying home. On a Friday. When there was a super cool night planned. BLOWS.

Actually it wasn’t that bad, but for now I’ll pretend it was. Tonight Darryl phoned and I got to wish him a happy belated birthday (he turned 28 yesterday!).We both decided that “old” was thirty and I managed to rub in his face like I always do that when he’s old and thirty, I’ll be young and twenty.

He also talked about his new girlfriend and I was happy because. . . It’s a happy thing! She sounds great (read: not like Darryl’s past indiscretions). She has two degrees and a government job, so my mom sees her as a great non-money-grubbing girl. With no dependents. Bonus!

We also discussed my going up there this summer. I have not been all gung ho about that lately, just because with the costs of a flight ($3200 return), rent and food, I probably wouldn’t be making a great deal more than I would here.

But then I remembered that Darryl, unlike my parents, listens when I talk. He views me as intelligent and sees me as a person. So when I say I want to go up, he’ll try to make it happen.

He said that his girlfriend needs a roommate and I could stay with her if she still hadn’t found one in April.

Awkward.

But still, really nice and gooey-feelingesque since Darryl is trying to make this happen for me.

It’s Barbie’s for biking all over again.

Confusion and misconceptions.

Today I spent an hour or so researching top contenders for the 2008 presidential election. Here is why you should never trust Wikipedia.

We cannot despair of humanity, since we are ourselves human beings.

I get a lot flack from my parents and older relatives for my thoughts on younger and older adults. Most of our elders think that "kids" are ungrateful and rude. Maybe not to any great extent, but in a situation where adults are pitted against us, they are right because they are our elders. Everyone reading this I am sure, has experienced ageism at some point.

Yesterday during the big St. John's "storm", people on my street were shoveling their little hearts out. The snow was easily waist deep and the people on the opposite side of our street had even more.

(Oh, this is where I say that earlier this week we got a snow-blower. Yeah, poor my ass.)

My Dad went out in the falling snow along with everyone else and snow-blowed the snow in our driveway. Then he did our neighbours. Then the house next to us. Then the house across the street. My Dad knows what it is like to shovel and this coupled with a new toy made him invincible.

But then of course as we who live in St. John's know, it started to rain. And it was gross.

So my Dad came in and started to take off his boots and stuff. I looked out the window and saw that he had cleared everyone's homes around us except for the students across the street.

Three of them were out in the rain trying to get at least one car cleared out, and man did they have their work cut out for them. They easily had the most snow and the rain was making it heavy and icy.

I told my Dad that if he thought just because they were young they couldn't use the help, he was sadly mistaken. So being the great guilt-tripper I am, my Dad put on his boots again and trudged across the street to clear them out.

About an hour ago the doorbell rang. One of the students from across the street had a thank-you card for my Dad. It said they were extremely grateful and that they were there to help if we ever needed it. They also included $20 which my Dad promptly returned because taking money from University students is like taking from the homeless.

I'd just like to say here that this is just one more example about how age plays no part in the way a person is. My Dad snow-blowed everyone out because he is altruistic, just like those students across the street gave us that card because they appreciate what my Dad did for them (and not one other person he helped made more than the gesture of a passing "thank you", they were all older adults).

The word elder is not synonymous with the word benevolent.