Refraction

*sigh*

I’m still wasting my time. Although now I’m having fun! Look what I found! {{link http://tenser.typepad.com/tenser_said_the_tensor/ Tenser, said the Tensor}}, is a linguist’s blog. So I’ve been reading all the entries back to when it was started (I told you I was wasting time.) It’s quite interesting, actually; besides, I have reason to believe the author is interested in anime/manga.

Anyway, the really interesting link that came off that blog was the one to the {{link http://hcs.harvard.edu/~golder/dialect/index.html Harvard Dialect Survey}}. It’s amazing to consider what people actually say. (Sadly, the researchers did not include “forte” or “scone” in their questions. *sigh*) One of the things I’ve always heard is that the use of the word “pop” to describe sweet carbonated drinks is more common in Canada than the States, and that “soda” is more popular in the USA. {{link http://hcs.harvard.edu/~golder/dialect/staticmaps/q_105.html One of the questions}} dealt with just that. Unfortunately, the survey was limited to the continental United States. Still… The map shows some interesting trends in regards to that.

Anyway, Bobby should take a look at question 92, if nothing else.

Studying. Studying. Listening to music while studying. Doing some French grammar exercises. Doing practice exams. Studying.

I’m starting to seriously worry about my exams. At this rate, I won’t have studied history at all, and that’s the subject I need to study the most for! I can forget Chem and French for the next little while since they’re later…. but I really need to focus on Physics, Math, and History (my three “panic” exams.)

And the university library is actually quite a good place to study. Except they don’t let you have food in there, meaning that you can’t stay there for too long. And it’s nice that they designate the floor “NO TALKING” and that they even have a “Very Silent Study” room. xD

And because I haven’t procrastinated enough…. SURVEY!
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They lost! How dare they lose! T_T

So now, for your reading pleasure, I have decided to document the stages of grief and the recovery process for a disappointed hockey fan. *sob*

Denial: “What? No. I don’t think so. Goaltender interference! They were playing dirty! It’ll be disallowed! There’s no way they could win! It’s not happening….!”

Bargaining: “If they win, I will never, ever, ever doubt them again.”

Guilt: “Maybe if I’d worn the other lucky t-shirt they would have won. Maybe if I’d eaten a chicken sandwich instead of a ham sandwich they would have won. Maybe it’s ALL MY FAULT!” *sniff*

Anger: “IT WASN’T FAIR AT ALL! THE OFFICIATING WAS BAD! THE ICE WAS BAD! *insert player name* WAS THE VICTIM OF A BLIND REFEREE! THERE’S NO WAY PLAY SHOULD HAVE GONE ON AFTER THAT!”

Depression: “When will the cycle of mediocrity end? Will we ever get the Cup? *insert player name*’s contract is up; can we replace him? Can the team bounce back after this? What’s going to happen?”

Hope: “Next year. Next year, it’s OURS.”

*sniff* I think I’m going to run out of happy music.

Heh, my site has reached 12345 hits. I find that amusing.

Okay, I assume that by now everyone who actually watches American Idol knows who was given the boot last night. But in case there’s someone who DOESN’T….
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Operation Snoopy temporarily suspended pending return of comrade. (Look! We’re Commies!)

Okay, so that was really quite odd and made no sense. That’s what happens when you write 300 words in 3 hours. I need another 300 in 30 minutes. Oh crap. Oh well.

On another note, I have gotten quite sick of this layout. It was cute at the beginning but now it’s just odd. Add to the mix that I don’t really like the Kotori image, and well… you have a recipe for a new layout 😀 Which I’ve already made and coded and am now awaiting a convenient opportuniy to upload.

My rubber duckie is staring at me. I think it’s giving me the evil eye. I’d better get back to work.

Well, this Easter long weekend promises to be quite…. academic. Never mind the fact that I need to trundle off to the univeristy library sometime this weekend to return the books (10 of them!!) but I seriously need to starting reviewing for my May exams. *gulp*

Ah well. I’m heading off to visit relatives sometime this weekend, which should be moderately interesting. At least I can study on the ferry. >.>;;
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Note: Operation Woodstock is now in full effect. Operation Snoopy is ongoing, and shall be reviewed and revised as necessary.
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I hate the first day after the switch to DST. Okay, so today is technically the second day. It didn’t help that I only got 5 hours of sleep, I guess.

I like the daylight. I like it a lot. This is why I hate fall (and to a certain extent, summer), because the days are getting shorter and shorter. But the thing is… I need the sun streaming through the window to wake me up in the morning. And my systems are all messed up now and I won’t start my homework until much later, when it’s dark. O_o; *sigh*

I read somewhere it takes about a day to adjust to an hour of “lost” time. Which is fine, I guess; I’ve lived through this 16 times already; a 17th time won’t kill me. Just add IB on top of everything else, and I guess you get a recipe for disaster. So if I acted sleep-deprived today… I was. >.>;; Some people can function fine on five hours of sleep. I used to be perfectly happy with six myself. Now I’m happy with seven. ~_~ Argh. I need those insomniac tendencies to kick in again! Or those first-night camp sleeping habits. (Don’t sleep at all, or very little, the first night; crash the second.)

This entry is about hair. My hair, in particular. So to spare all the guys out there, the entry is “extended.” Er… yeah.
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I don’t know how many of you have heard this (or how many of you care), but they found {{link http://www.thestar.com/NASApp/cs/ContentServer?pagename=thestar/Layout/Article_Type1&c=Article&cid=1080601810964&call_pageid=968256290204&col=968350116795 Cecilia Zhang’s}} body over the weekend. When I saw it on the news, I was shocked, and more sad about an abducted child than I can remember. I didn’t know her, and certainly had no personal connection with the girl–so I can’t really explain my reaction to her story.
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