Important ANNOUNCEMENT. Not really.
DramaTweets
For a Good Cause...
Thought I should post something before I take a nap. Problem is I don't know what life-changing topic I should talk about. I probably don't know many to begin with.
I just finished watching One Tree Hill's fifth season and I'm sure a lot of people would probably kill me when I say this: OTH's a whole lot better than Prison Break and Heroes. True, they aren't in the same TV series genre but the point is that the three of 'em are TV series. I loved the first seasons of the latter shows but after that I think they were just pushing their luck. I told a friend of mine who adores Prison Break yesterday that the show was kind of like a rubber band that's been stretched waaaay too much. Same goes for Heroes. But hey, it's just one girl's opinion. A girl who can't figure out what to do with her life, at that.
Why I love OTH, as avid readers of this sad sad blog would know, is because of Peyton Sawyer. I have never seen or read a fictional character who I can relate oh so much to. I got back into sketching and stuff because of her. (And partly because I had to for my Humanities course but it was mostly due to my hero-worship of P. Sawyer.)
After watching the entire season -the marathon ended about twenty minutes ago- I began to realize that I'm blind to whatever faults OTH has because of their constant display of camaraderie. All the characters in the show has someone there to help them out of whatever mess they get themselves into.
Anyone who knows me for more than 45 minutes would know that I'm the type of person who goes out of a limb for a friend. I'm not being presumptuous because I know that's the type of person I want people to see me as since I was seven.
And anyone who had tried to hurt any of my friends knows that I'm the type of person who'd break people's limbs for my friends. Sure I can be a complete self-centered brat but if anyone tries to hurt the people I care for, I'm totally capable of going out of my own personal universe to beat the crap out of that person.
Oh right, funny thing happened yesterday. My classmates and I are incredibly used to helping each other during our Information Technology courses that we got into trouble with an incredibly menopausal professor. Last semester when we went through the grueling world of html and css codes, we'd annoy the hell out of each other and our teacher at that time by asking how to do this and that to the point that we'd post our codes in the Friendster Bulletin. (Yes, this explains why you guys read cryptic messages that had html tags all over it.)
After two years of spending every waking school day together, we've grown pretty close. So anyhoo, our activity thingy was to answer a couple of questions regarding specs of Adobe Premiere Pro: Is it compatible with this and that? How much space does it take? Would you like fries with that?
I found the specs quite easily thanks to google so I decided to share it with the rest of the class thinking it was okay. Past experience taught that it was okay. Then our teacher went all monster and covertly fretted out or whatever. He was showing signs and symptoms of menopause -he's a guy, btw, in case you didn't get it yet- and asked me what I was doing. To which I replied that I was giving them a link to the specs and added, "If I pass, then the rest of them should pass with me." (This is the presumptuous part, ladies and gents.) (I know I'll pass.) (I always do.)
C'mon, I'm not stupid enough to say my answers out loud. All I did was make everybody's life easier. If he loses his hair because of what I did then slap my back and send me to hell for being quite saintly. If he wanted us to figure EVERYTHING out by ourselves then by university law, he could have made us stay on our seats, told us to keep quiet, and to keep our eyes on our own monitors.
I wasn't cheating and, in my opinion, I wasn't doing anything unethical. Cheating would be when I told them my answers. I merely opened the door through which they might find light. I was practicing camaraderie.
God, I hate menopausal people. They give me a run for my money for my title as a Drama Queen.
Ciao my ♥s. Stay safe from the monsters.
I just finished watching One Tree Hill's fifth season and I'm sure a lot of people would probably kill me when I say this: OTH's a whole lot better than Prison Break and Heroes. True, they aren't in the same TV series genre but the point is that the three of 'em are TV series. I loved the first seasons of the latter shows but after that I think they were just pushing their luck. I told a friend of mine who adores Prison Break yesterday that the show was kind of like a rubber band that's been stretched waaaay too much. Same goes for Heroes. But hey, it's just one girl's opinion. A girl who can't figure out what to do with her life, at that.
Why I love OTH, as avid readers of this sad sad blog would know, is because of Peyton Sawyer. I have never seen or read a fictional character who I can relate oh so much to. I got back into sketching and stuff because of her. (And partly because I had to for my Humanities course but it was mostly due to my hero-worship of P. Sawyer.)
After watching the entire season -the marathon ended about twenty minutes ago- I began to realize that I'm blind to whatever faults OTH has because of their constant display of camaraderie. All the characters in the show has someone there to help them out of whatever mess they get themselves into.
Anyone who knows me for more than 45 minutes would know that I'm the type of person who goes out of a limb for a friend. I'm not being presumptuous because I know that's the type of person I want people to see me as since I was seven.
And anyone who had tried to hurt any of my friends knows that I'm the type of person who'd break people's limbs for my friends. Sure I can be a complete self-centered brat but if anyone tries to hurt the people I care for, I'm totally capable of going out of my own personal universe to beat the crap out of that person.
Oh right, funny thing happened yesterday. My classmates and I are incredibly used to helping each other during our Information Technology courses that we got into trouble with an incredibly menopausal professor. Last semester when we went through the grueling world of html and css codes, we'd annoy the hell out of each other and our teacher at that time by asking how to do this and that to the point that we'd post our codes in the Friendster Bulletin. (Yes, this explains why you guys read cryptic messages that had html tags all over it.)
After two years of spending every waking school day together, we've grown pretty close. So anyhoo, our activity thingy was to answer a couple of questions regarding specs of Adobe Premiere Pro: Is it compatible with this and that? How much space does it take? Would you like fries with that?
I found the specs quite easily thanks to google so I decided to share it with the rest of the class thinking it was okay. Past experience taught that it was okay. Then our teacher went all monster and covertly fretted out or whatever. He was showing signs and symptoms of menopause -he's a guy, btw, in case you didn't get it yet- and asked me what I was doing. To which I replied that I was giving them a link to the specs and added, "If I pass, then the rest of them should pass with me." (This is the presumptuous part, ladies and gents.) (I know I'll pass.) (I always do.)
C'mon, I'm not stupid enough to say my answers out loud. All I did was make everybody's life easier. If he loses his hair because of what I did then slap my back and send me to hell for being quite saintly. If he wanted us to figure EVERYTHING out by ourselves then by university law, he could have made us stay on our seats, told us to keep quiet, and to keep our eyes on our own monitors.
I wasn't cheating and, in my opinion, I wasn't doing anything unethical. Cheating would be when I told them my answers. I merely opened the door through which they might find light. I was practicing camaraderie.
God, I hate menopausal people. They give me a run for my money for my title as a Drama Queen.
Ciao my ♥s. Stay safe from the monsters.
DramaQueen files this under blah blah blah
0 Comments:
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
A Poem
By Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there's some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Posts
