Perfection, Perfection

MP Block 138 was supposed to be the last thing I had to do to graduate...

It wouldn't make a difference. An A or a B in Stim, I'm still graduating magna cum laude. But I really want to finish as strong as possible. That means another semester making it to the Dean's List. I've been on the list since the past seven semesters and am not about to lose it without a fight this one last time.

But does it worth the fight when it would be accompanied by another sleepless week full with anxieties and silent (and not-so-silent) resentment?

I am leaving this country for good exactly 14 days from today; 7 days after graduation. I really am not looking forward to be holing up in my room scouring over 4 months worth of notes and homework and at the same time cursing life for being unfair while I could be spending it with friends who I might not see again forever or for a long long time. Besides, I'm an RA, I live with 30 freshmen and sophomores for the past academic year and I really want to bid them proper goodbyes.

Some might say I'm exaggerating. I'm not. I've cried 5 times in less than 24 hours about this one impending final, and passed out for two hours because I wanted to take a break from thinking about it. I spent two days trying to console myself to both decisions by taking turns:

(1) to take it, study so hard for it like I've never studied in my life before and spend my second last week in the States (and with friends as we are all going to take off right after graduation) being miserable

or

(2) to not take it, hanging out with friends and be satisfied with a B but spending the rest of my life hating myself for letting go of the opportunity to finish with better grades.

As you can tell, neither was satisfactory.

I HATE BEING A PERFECTIONIST. But according to Brandon, that is the reason why I am going to be successful (but miserable) in life.


Latest update:
I went to talk to my professor and she let me review my past exams for points back but I only got 1%. I have an 89 now (1% less from a 90, which is absolutely A) so she said I have two options:

(1) to take the final and get a 86 for a 90

0r

(2) to bet on the A/B cutoff being lower than 90.

Apparently Mines loves me too much that it just has to make me work my as* off till the last minute, less than 24 hours before I'm due to walk on the stage on MY GRADUATION DAY. I seriously do not know what I would do if I didn't get an A, most probably something very very very self-destructive, lol. Do they have Silk Cut here in the US?

I'm Not An Overachiever, I'm Just Asian

If there was one thing to hate about being Asian, that would be being obsessed over grades. Four years in the States, I still can't shake off that kiasu-ism that is deeply ingrained in my DNA. While my American friends are satisfied enough that they are passing a class, I can't even settle for a B when an A is within reach.

Like what had happened today. Since I got my Exam II back in Stim, I was resigned that this would be the class that no matter how much I study my as* off, I am just not meant to get an A in it. That is perfectly fine, because I believe that I can't be good at everything. After all, I am a normal human being. But today, I got my Exam III back (which was supposed to be final) and I have a very high B average. And guess what, A is achievable, as long as I study my as* off for the final which happens to be scheduled 24 hours before commencement.

I cannot not care, because grades are important to me even though I tried many times to console myself that B's (especially at Mines) are good. I'm not an overachiever, I've never been - I am more of a consistent achiever, not a one hit wonder - I'm just Asian.

Is that a bad thing?

Anyway, as a friend pointed out: "Bila lagi kau nak study gila-gila pun?" And I found myself agreeing. So it's back to studying starting Sunday. Packing up has to wait and BJ has to help with checkouts. Which might not be a bad thing after all....

Unaccustomed Earth Is Not A Fairy Tale and I LOVE It!

Jhumpa Lahiri did it again. I felt the emptiness, the sadness and the anguish of human emotions as I finished Unaccustomed Earth, her latest (and second) collection of short stories.

At first UE did not really impress me. The theme seemed to revolve around the same thing: Bengali parents who immigrated to the US, where usually the fathers came for a PhD and stayed as professors (mostly around Boston, Massachussets - at all the Ivy League schools), the mothers were silently angry about being stripped off from their homelands and had never assimilated with their new country while on the other hand, the children were strictly Americans by upbringing. I liked Interpreter of Maladies better, where the themes (and locations) varied greatly.

Then I got into Part Two of the book - Hema and Kaushik that followed the voices of Hema and Kaushik since their first encounter as kids, their re-encounter as teenagers and their re-discovery as adults. There were three stories altogether. The first one was told by Hema, the second by Kaushik and the third was from a third person perspective, with Hema taking over at the end.

All were beautifully-crafted, with the third one being by far - the best. Hema and Kaushik found each other after more than 20 years of separation (and forgotten infatuation) in Rome. Rome was a significant location in the stories, it being where Kaushik took his last family vacation before his mother's lost battle to cancer while to Hema, it was the subject of one of her school projects that was accomplished with the help from Kaushik's father. It held memories for them both and I was glad that Lahiri had them met in the Italian capital.

Hema and Kaushik were automatically drawn to each other. First due to being Indians in a foreign place, second for having a connection - to each other and to Rome. Kaushik had a past, as Hema had her own issues and they understood each other without even having to say so out loud. I was not necessarily supportive of the way Lahiri relinquished her characters' emotions but human emotions after all is very complex and sometimes, words just cannot do justice.

I love Hema for being realistic, and I respect Kaushik for finally having the guts to "settle down." The ending was perfect. It's real, it's what life is. No wonder UE is the New York Times Book Review Best Book of the Year.

Memories

Weaver Towers Residence Life Staff 2008/2009
People I live and work with for one whole academic year!

Americans and Their Psychological Guilt

I was craving for a HUGE cup of chai latte to the point that I was almost drooling just by thinking about it so I decided to walk down the hill to Higher Grounds for a cuppa. I initially wanted to get local Bhakti chai instead but Cafe 13 and Windy Saddle are a few blocks away so I satisfied myself with the regular chai, which tasted just equally good, only not spicy and as infused as a cup of Bhakti.

Anyway, that was a good decision as it threw me into an interesting conversation with the barrista. I didn't know his name but since I am a regular, I knew his face. Somehow I always thought he doesn't like me for some reasons, most probably because he doesn't really smile or initiates exchanges of words beyond taking orders and ringing up the register.

But today, he said hello the moment I walked into the shop, which was about 10 feet away from the counter. I was confused but decided to play along. "I like your shirt," he said as I approached the counter. I mumbled a grateful thank-you, contemplating whether I should launch the rationale behind wearing my red Manchester United's shirt with RONALDO 7 on the back or not (to those who have been di bawah tempurung, we won 5-2 against the Yids yesterday after being 2 goals down in the first half) when he continued, "it really goes well with the (red) kaffiyeh."

I was shell-shocked.

I've been occasionally wearing kaffiyehs as scarfs everywhere after donning them full time for a couple of weeks in January, but people have been taking it for granted as a fashion statement. Which is sad, because I wear them for political reasons.

While he was preparing my giant cup of chai, the barrista mentioned that he used to wear kaffiyehs during the Gulf War to protest against the war. "People got aggressive when they saw you with one, you know," he said.

"But now it's sad because it's just a fashion statement," I replied, "but I wear it for both (political and fashion)."

"Yes, of course. You're Muslim," he answered without hesitation. This reaction was also rare, my scarf usually gets people to ask "What are you?" not "You're a Muslim." The difference between the cultured and well read Americans, and the ignorants, perhaps?

"Dang Urban Outfitters, eh?" He laughed. I joined in the joke. Kanye West might be wearing a kaffiyeh, and Rachael Ray in the controversial Dunkin' Donut commercial, I've also seen some budding rockstars donning them - but do they know what a kaffiyeh means?

"Back in the days, in the 70's, we used to dress up as the Vietnamese too, you know," he continued reminiscing, grabbing the pot of steamed milk and pouring it into a 20oz paper cup that was already filled with chai concentrate at the bottom.

"I didn't know that!" I exclaimed excitedly.

"Oh yes. It's like a psychological guilt or something."

Interesting. It reminded me of the "white men burden" a little bit. Anyway, he handed me my chai and I took off after exchanging farewell greetings of "Have a good afternoon" and "Enjoy the chai." I walked uphill back to my room but the conversation lingered. Oh why does such an interesting person opened up only when I'm due to leave very soon?


*My short story Perca-Perca Cinta Untuk Palestin talks about how powerful kaffiyeh could be.

Sleep Deprivation Is Hell!!!

God I'm such a light sleeper these days!

I was into my disturbed fourth hour of sleep when I was rudely awaken by persistent knocking on one of my doors (my room has two doors, one that connects me to the outside world, and the other to the suite). I decided to ignore it, after all this was the first night that I actually went to bed early. Since a few nights ago, my bedtime would be after 2 am. Besides, I was not even on duty and unless someone was dying there was no way I would get out of bed.

But then my work phone rang, there was no excuse not to answer it now so I picked it up in my most sleepy/drunken drawl ever. I wasn't faking it, I was exhausted. Caffeine was the only thing that kept me going the whole week. Every time I was about to take a nap in the afternoon, there would be phone calls (important ones) and I just couldn't force myself to shut my mind down after those encounters.

Last night was hell too. I was so nervous about the impending exams (last ones I had to take as an undergraduate AND as of right now, THERE'S NO WAY I'M GOING TO GRAD SCHOOL), even more anxious about it than my SPM and IB days to the point that I drifted off to sleep because my body was so tired and dehydrated that I couldn't keep my eyes opened anymore.

I woke up 3 hours later, in the exact uncomfortable fetal position that I went to sleep in, and decided to continue reviewing until the food court opened and I can go get coffee. Thank goodness the regular Ol' Joe worked well to sustain my energy through the tests, yesterday I had an extra espresso shot with my iced mocha just to feel a little like my usual self.

Dragging myself around campus today was hard, it was one of those days that I hated to be smiling and talking to people when the only thing I needed was to sleep. Hanee just remarked that I've been making a lot of spelling mistakes as we chatted online, but apparently sleep hates me...

Hampir ke Garis Penamat (dan Permulaan Yang Tidak Kurang Perdana)

Alhamdulillah, peperiksaan terakhir sebagai pelajar ijazah pertama sudah selamat saya duduki. Peperiksaan untuk kertas-kertas Well Stimulation and Completions Engineering dan Reservoir Engineering (II) itu sebetulnya bukan peperiksaan akhir, tetapi ujian ketiga mengikut perincian silibus yang diedarkan Dr Jennifer Miskimins dan Dr Yu-Shu Wu pada awal semester.

Namun mereka juga menyatakan bahawa peperiksaan akhir yang dijadualkan dua minggu lagi adalah pilihan (optional) maka sememangnya daripada awal semester saya bertekad untuk tidak culas ke kuliah dan mengerjakan kerja rumah agar gred yang konsisten dapat dikekalkan dan bisa mengelak daripada menekuni nota-nota kumulatif seminggu sebelum tarikh graduasi kelak. Syukur Tuhan mempermudahkan nawaitu itu.

Tanggungjawab akademik yang masih berbaki kini adalah presentation akhir kelas Multidisciplinary Petroleum Design, kerja rumah terakhir Reservoir (II) dan pertemuan maklum balas daripada fakulti sehari sebelum graduasi.

Biar pun tidak sabar untuk check out daripada Mines yang memayungi selama empat musim (16 sebenarnya, haha), saya juga sebak dan gementar untuk meninggalkan gelar pelajar. Barangkali sebab itulah malam tadi saya terlalu sukar melelapkan mata. Kalimah "it all comes down to this" terngiang-ngiang banyak kali sehingga akhirnya saya terlelap kerana tubuh sudah terlalu rentan.

Empat tahun berlalu sekelip mata. Semoga kenangan yang mendewasakan di bumi Colorado ini tidak luput sampai bila-bila!

Cinta Menulis

Sempat berbual panjang lebar dengan Afni di Manchester tengah hari tadi (malam di England) antara jeda menekuni ulang kaji subjek Well Stimulation and Completions Engineering yang peperiksaan terakhirnya akan saya duduki pagi Khamis ini. Entah mengapa, Afni seakan ganti Majidah.

Majidah merupakan teman dari sekolah rendah yang menjadi pengkritik setia karya-karya saya. Malah, beliaulah insan yang bertanggungjawab menjadikan saya penulis yang anda kenali pada hari ini. Labih dua musim lalu, saya masih terlalu ingat, Majidah mempersoalkan hala tuju saya dalam bidang penulisan. "Rugi Haz, dengan kemampuanmu menimbulkan persoalan pada akhir karya tidak dimanfaatkan agar pembaca berspekulasi tentang wacana yang menjana minda," katanya lebih kurang. Majidah terbang ke Australia untuk menyudahkan ijazah dalam bidang TESL, kemudian pulang mengajar di Kuala Lumpur. Kami renggang, namun sesekali beliau akan menitipkan observasinya terhadap perkembangan saya dalam bidang penulisan yang mengakrabkan kami ini.

Sedang Afni, sebetulnya kami tidak terlalu akrab di Kolej MARA Banting empat, lima tahun lalu. Kamar saya berselang satu pintu dari kamarnya. Kami mula berbual panjang apabila bersepakat memohon penginapan berhampiran di kolej kediaman University of Manchester. Saya sebenarnya sepatutnya terbang ke Tanah Ratu, ke kota yang sinonim dengan kelab bola sepak kegilaan mendalami ilmu Kejuruteraan Kimia tetapi takdir mengharuskan saya ke Colorado mendalami jurusan Kejuruteraab Petroleum. Walau bagaimana pun, ukhwah yang terbina di KMB itu semakin rapat bertaut selepas kami terbang ke destinasi masing-masing yang berlainan benua. Hubungan ini semakin terpatri apabila saya terbang ke England dua kali pada cuti musim sejuk tahun sophomore and junior.

Afni menyuarakan keinginannya untuk menulis kreatif secara serius, dia pernah memberi saya baca fragmen cerpen nukilanya yang berlatar di Wales dan menyentuh tema tauhid dan ketuhanan, dan saya menyambut ujaran itu dengan ria. Kami saling mencabar sebetulnya: dia mencabar agar saya menyiapkan sebuah novel sementara saya menuntutnya menyiapkan sebuah cerpen lengkap. "Jom kita berduet dalam satu antologi tahun depan," saran saya, mengenang Lagi Cerpen-Cerpen Underground usahasama Abang FT dan Abang Saharil.

Menulis. Argh, saya terlalu cintakan bidang ini! Pernah saya tertanya, bagaimana saya mampu mengekang nafsu menulis selama beberapa tahun di sekolah berasrama, kolej persediaan dan hampir dua tahun pertama di universiti. Mungkin, jikalau saya serius menulis lebih awal, langkah diorak sudah semakin jauh. Tetapi apa guna mengenang perkara lepas? Peri penting, prospek masa hadapan yang perlu dirintis, dirancang.

Doakan saya istiqamah berjuang!

Rebecca Ilham - Pengarang

Jom ke Facebook!

Regaining Self-Esteem

Last week, I was picked at random by Dr Davis to present my team's midterm report: Main Pass Block 138 Bid Analysis. Upon concluding the presentation, I was elated. I kicked the presentation's as* and my teammates (all guys; 4 Americans, a Malaysian and 2 Saudis) Faisal and Matt whispered "I'm so proud of you" right after I squeezed back into the team's line up as the teachers gave their initial feedback.

Yesterday we had our detailed feedback session with Dr Sonnenberg and apparently he really liked my presentation. (We got an A for presentation and a B for the report, which was like 100 pages thick). He kept saying "you're a very good presenter" and insisted that I should do the final presentation also. I was liked: "What?! I've done my part and now I want to go back to my place backstage!" He even asked why I was so pumped the other day, what kind of coffee I drank prior to the presentation and agreed that my decision to practice just before class time was a wise move. My teammates had anonymously voted me as (one of) the presenter for our final report, with Blake offering to shoulder off some of the burdens. (I'm angry at him again, I don't know why, lol).

It is so not me to be backstage, actually. I like attention, and I was a debater back in high school, both in Malay and English. There was this one time I did a bilingual elocution contest (state level) and came out third. Mrs. Koh was frustrated because she thought I should have been second. But being abroad, and having to speak in another language that is not my first had pushed me back for a couple of years. I lost my (amazing) self-confidence and always offered to do proof-reading and things like that instead of taking the center stage.

But Multidisciplinary Petroleum Design Senior Project (Second Leg) has gave me back whatever little self-esteem I still have in me. And it's right timing too, since I'm launching myself into the working world soon after, where I am expected to be able to give technical presentations half asleep!

Being Asian (Women)

I'm reading The Scent of Sake by Joyce Lebra. I'm so into everything Japanese right now, don't ask. As for the book, I picked it up on Sunday on an unplanned trip to Tattered Cover in LoDo after accompanying a friend to my favorite used books haunt on Broadway. It was Easter Sunday, but luckily Denver Book Fair was opened. I literally jumped up and down upon walking into the store, lol.

Anyway, I was considering getting a Gail Tsukiyama's book but the only I could find in the store has men as leading characters. Being a feminist through and through, the book just turned me off. It was about a sumo wrestler, an amazing Japanese culture for sure but sorry, I just can't relate to fat men, disgustingly half naked trying to bring each other down.

I found The Scent of Sake on the New Fiction-Paperback shelves. I've heard about this book before from TC Events page but I thought it was a non-fiction work because Lebra after all is a Japanese culture professor at CU Boulder. Apparently I was mistaken. It's actually a historical fiction, about a Japanese girl who was shoved into an arranged marriage so her (loser, geisha-loving of a) husband could be adopted into her sake-brewing family and be the next successor because "women do not run a sake empire."

It's the right book to read at the right time. I've been obsessed with Japan for almost three weeks (blame good medical JDrama...) and since last week feminism is something that is constantly on my mind. I was pissed off from page 1 when Rie was forbidden to enter the sake-brewing area because "women turned the sake sour."

The book is very accurate when it comes to facts and description of Japanese culture but Lebra is not a good fiction writer. It struck me from Chapter 1 that the story moves too fast for a culture of idleness. It's just not right. I've studied The Doctor's Wife and The Twilight Years (both by Sawako Ariyoshi) and loved them both to pieces. But I don't blame Lebra, though. She might be an expert, but she's after all is not Asian.

I was told by the guy who rang the book up at the cashier that Lebra is 84 years old. From the photo at the back of the book, she looks at least 25 years younger!

I'm dropping by Clear Creek Books today to check on the status of my order of Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri. Yay for Asian writers! (And writers who write about Asia).

Of Being a Woman and a (Conservative) Feminist

Some close friends have been voicing out their concerns about me turning into a men-hating feminist. Please be assured that even though I am a feminist, I am a CONSERVATIVE feminist who accepts nature or fitraa, which includes the fact that men are (only) physically superior than me. This is in accordance with Verse 34 of Chapter 4 (Sura Nisaa', meaning "Women" which unsurprisingly is my favorite chapter) out of The Holy Koran:

"Men are protectors and maintainers of women, because God has given them one more (strength) than the other, and because they support them from their means."

The superiority stops there and then. Men should not be manipulating their advantage unjustly, like how most cultures do. After all, God has also emphasized that their strength are solely to "protect and maintain" women. This would mean that all other chores and duties should be shared/divided equally.

I was in a heated argument with my guyfriends last night when I told them that unless I find a man who would take turns getting up at night to feed and change the baby, I would rather not settle down. If he complains of not getting enough sleep to be alert at work the next morning, am I not going to be at the office also? It takes two to make a baby, and it also takes two to care for one. So grow up and stop sulking!

I am also fond of saying that MEN ARE JERKS. Okay men, be honest, you guys are capable of being complete jerks at some points in your life, be it high, low or just random. But that is just who you are, that's nature and I don't reject nature because that means going against God. However, it would do the world a great favor if you would just own your mistakes up instead of allowing you ego to balloon up and be total as*holes.

I do not hate men, I just hate the way some men abuse their physical superiority and how most cultures have been tolerant or even "celebrative" (from celebrate, please excuse my lack of vocabulary) about it. It's DEGRADING, DISGUSTING and OFFENSIVE. I spent dinnertime on Friday fuming when one after another jokes about "why women should never wander off from the kitchen" were uttered by some guys I got along great with. They were just cracking things up, but such attitudes are what keeping the stereotypes going.

I know most men have their own ideals about how women should be/behave. That is their prerogatives, as being a non-typical, non-ideal woman is my right. I am Asian, but growing up, I have never felt any discrimination due to my gender. My parents cannot afford it, I guess, because they have three girls and only a boy. For a conservative family, that is actually quite impressive. But as I got older, I started to feel the pressure of cultural obligations and expectations.

It's confusing - I am taught that I must get a college degree, but I am also expected to keep a home while my husband gets all the bragging rights just by bringing the money home. And oh yes, a friend brought this up yesterday. What's with the term "trophy wife"? Wives should be smart enough so the husbands can showcase them off, but not smarter than the husbands themselves? I didn't know that men are that insecure! That was probably why a distant cousin had to forgo her college education because the husband is not as highly educated...

Let's stop here. I'm getting emotional.

Cheers!

"If there were no God, there would be no Atheists."

The Easter cookie that Dana made specially for me. This is the second one, she made me one on Halloween last year too. Man, I'm SPECIAL!

When Religious Festivals Lost Their Significance

A week ago one of my girls (one of the residents on my floor) suggested that "we should dye Easter eggs for our floor-bonding thingy after the Physics test." I jumped at the suggestion; my floor is weird, they don't like venturing out of the building for programs so I have to be creative and bring the program to them. It is hard, because I have never lived in the dorms before, and I am not from the same culture. So when they show initiatives, of course I am more than happy to oblige. Besides, I still have a lot of money in our floor fund thus I am excited to splurge.

"Sure, Sam," I said, "but you have to run the whole thing because I've never dyed Easter eggs before."

"What, Haz?!? You've never?" One other girl ran out of her room which is next to mine, her facial expression in shocked disbelief. "It's so much fun!"

"Well, I don't celebrate Easter," I explained, "and it's not really a huge festival in Malaysia, even for cultural sake."

"No worries. Just get the eggs, a dye-ing kit and a bottle of vinegar. It's easy."

With Sam's assurance, I turned in the request for floor funding to my HD (he will turn it in to the Director of Residence Life and after approval, his credit card is at my disposal, yay! Being an RA is really a cool job, lol). I didn't really think about it, except that I kind of mentioned it to a few friends. They were also shocked that I'd never dyed Easter eggs or participated in Easter eggs hunts before.

"But it's a part of American culture!" Some of them claimed in disbelief. Never once did I hear about its religious significance, which in my opinion, should be the core of a religious-based festival, anyway.

But again, Americans are fairly private in their religious beliefs and don't really like to discuss it, except for less than a handful close friends such as Brandon who would go into random rants about religion and life sometimes, Blake who tries to trick me about my own conviction, Matt who unexpectedly asks about The Taqwacores the other day and Chelsey who tells me that it's okay to read Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Friend by Christopher Moore and laughs AT Jesus.

Anyway, last night we had our floor-bonding thing. A resident helped me go get the necessities, and we had a good time sharing Easter stories, dye-ing three dozens of hard-boiled eggs (we ate half of them, undyed) and finishing off three bags of chips, two bottles of chunky salsa and three boxes of Capri Suns.

And we didn't stain the carpet. I swear we didn't.

The Taqwacores: Penjenamaan Semula Islam di Amerika?

Sedang baca. It's about everything wrong about Islam, but I am hooked nevertheless. Kata orang, untuk membangkang, perlu terlebih dahulu memahami, bukan? Ulasan akan menyusul selepas usai meladeni.

P.S. Salah satu watak utama adalah seorang lelaki Melayu berambut mohawk bernama Fasiq yang gemar meladeni ganja sambil meneliti Al-Qur'an.

Pasca Kenyataan Akhbar Obama, Saya Dimualkan Laporan Berat Sebelah CNN Tentang Peluncuran Roket oleh Korea Utara

I can ride my bike with no handlebars
No handlebars
No handlebars

I can ride my bike with no handlebars
No handlebars
No handlebars

Look at me, look at me
hands in the air like it's good to be
ALIVE
and I'm a famous rapper
even when the paths're all crookedy
I can show you how to do-si-do
I can show you how to scratch a record
I can take apart the remote control
And I can almost put it back together
I can tie a knot in a cherry stem
I can tell you about Leif Ericson
I know all the words to "De Colores"
And "I'm Proud to be an American"
Me and my friend saw a platypus
Me and my friend made a comic book
And guess how long it took
I can do anything that I want cuz, look:

I can keep rhythm with no metronome
No metronome
No metronome

I can see your face on the telephone
On the telephone
On the telephone

Look at me
Look at me
Just called to say that it's good to be
ALIVE
In such a small world
All curled up with a book to read
I can make money open up a thrift store
I can make a living off a magazine
I can design an engine sixty four
Miles to a gallon of gasoline
I can make new antibiotics
I can make computers survive aquatic conditions
I know how to run a business
And I can make you wanna buy a product
Movers shakers and producers
Me and my friends understand the future
I see the strings that control the systems
I can do anything with no assistance
I can lead a nation with a microphone
With a microphone
With a microphone
I can split the atoms of a molecule
Of a molecule
Of a molecule

Look at me
Look at me
Driving and I won't stop
And it feels so good to be
Alive and on top
My reach is global
My tower secure
My cause is noble
My power is pure
I can hand out a million vaccinations
Or let'em all die in exasperation
Have'em all healed of their lacerations
Have'em all killed by assassination
I can make anybody go to prison
Just because I don't like'em and
I can do anything with no permission
I have it all under my command
I can guide a missile by satellite
By satellite
By satellite
and I can hit a target through a telescope
Through a telescope
Through a telescope
and I can end the planet in a holocaust
In a holocaust
In a holocaust
In a holocaust
In a holocaust
In a holocaust

I can ride my bike with no handlebars
No handle bars
No handlebars

I can ride my bike with no handlebars
No handlebars
No handlebars

Music and lyrics by Flobots
Lyrics are copied from here

You Can Never Tell When It Comes to Colorado

I'm just sharing what it looks like outside my room. Snow on the first day of April. Oh E-Days Weekend is going to be interesting for sure. Thankfully, I only have one event that I certainly can't miss - Flobots in Concert!

Who's Your Target?

Assassination, a building-wide program that Weaver staffs put up for our residents is now into its third week. Out of 97 residents who signed up, about half are still alive. I was signed up without my knowledge by my HD and was assassinated on the second day. Matt shot at me from behind and I turned, demanding "why the heck are you spraying me with that water gun for?" Poor guy apologized profusely immediately, lol. It's hard being an RA and playing the game for sure since everyone knows you. Oh well.

Matt is still alive, and he's been carrying his squirt gun around scouting his target religiously while watching his back for his assassin. It's funny to see how these freshmen are really enjoying the game. They even help each other out by distracting each other's targets. I am going to miss the indulgence of carefree college life for sure!