Spring Break! In one More Day!

My "Hunters and Gatherers" final went much as predicted. The three people with whom I studied smiled and sailed through the whole thing. From the rest of the class, I heard groans, and one girl was actually crying. It pays to find smart friends and to  study with them. One of the girls in our study groups isn't all that bright, but she does the readings and takes copious notes, so the others of us include her, and she'll ace the course just as the rest of us will.  No one wants a slacker who isn't very bright in a study group, but someone of at least near-average ability who is willing  to do his or her share of the work is usually welcome even among the top students.

The biggy is tomorrow -- the "Risk Theory" final. I have my ideas about where the prof is going with the final exam. I've been fairly accurate in predicting what would be on the other exams, so I'm hoping that I'm equally clairvoyant this time.

I'm so incredibly ready for  break that I would probably take one even if it were not scheduled.  I'll do my recording stint in Utah, and then I'm home to relax. I'll  lie around on the beach, do a little diving, and maybe even a little running and hurdling if my legs are strong enough. Other than that, I'll socialize a bit and sleep. I don't have heavy drinking plans on my agenda, but chances are that  at least once my parents will leave and my brother's friends and mine will cautiously and surreptitiously help ourselves to the contents of my parents' liquor cabinet. No one will drive anywhere if he or she is not legal to do so.

Happy spring break, and if your profession is such that you do not get a spring break, I extend to you my condolences.

Cat Preserves: That Sounds Too Much Like Something One Might Eat from a Jar, Sort of Like Strawberry Preserves

           One of the many things I sacrifice  in the name of academic success!
                     

My time as a lady of leisure is reaching its end. Soon I'll be toiling away at a desk in a classroom or elsewhere during many of my waking hours.  Toiling away is a bit of an exaggeration. I'll be trying hard  not to smirk as others toil away. My hard work was mostly completed weeks ago. I'll have the bittersweet privilege of watching my classmates struggle to complete assignments and studying that should have been addressed weeks ago.  The most difficult part is trying hard not to look too all-knowing as I observe this. To do such, though, would be socially suicidal, and I'm far from the greatest social success on the west coast even as it stands. Instead, I'll nod sympathetically as though I'm going through the very same thing, which I'm not. Adding to the difficulty, apparently, is that the very best parties always happen during Hell week, forcing these would-be students to make the choice between having  the university experiences of their lives or  actually being university students and earning degrees. Such is life -- a series of choices. They'll get through it like so many before them have done. Striking a balance between drunken revelry and higher education is a difficult proposition but one that can be achieved.

The woman of whom I wrote yesterday, who was killed by an African male tiger at Cat Haven, sometimes known as Cat Hell, suffered her death as a result of a broken neckl the county coroner believes death was near instantaneous which is certainly a blessing if it happened in such a manner. it has been hypothesized that the deceased, M. Hanson, was providing food for the animal in another enclosure when it broke through to where she was. This make more sense than an apparently lucid adult entering an enclosure holding a fully-grown make lion.

Actress Tippi Hedron, herself the founder of a cat haven of sorts,  had a less-than sympathetic take on the situation, at least toward the perspective of the woman who lost her life.  "It wasn't the lion's fault. It's the human's. fault always."   However much truth her statement may contain, and while I'm certainly far from suggesting that human error did not contribute to this tragedy,  I found Ms. Hedron's comments callous at the very least.  I, too, am sorry that a lion had to be killed, but I can at least mourn the loss of human life as well. Furthermore, while I know nothing of Ms. Hedron's cat reserve,  Shambala,  but with the manner of reality, karmic forces, human error, and everything else that is usually at work, Ms. Hedron's reserve could be one tiny oversight away from a similar occurrence at her own preserve. She would do well to reserve judgment in such a public manner.

And speaking of the vulnerable, my professor from last year is still supposedly holding a mountain lion, which I personally saw in its holding area on her property last year (you already gave me my grade, lady, and I'm not taking another of your classes, so do your very best to seek revenge if you happen to beat the million-to-one odds and come across this blog)  on a converted tennis court on property in rural Santa Barbara County.  If I were one of her neighbors, I would be very concerned.

Nn More School. No More Books . . .

I have been paroled for the next twenty-four days. I vow not to even think about anything related to academics until at least midnight on January 7.

Yesterday's more difficult final required me to actually think as I was writing the answers, but I have reasonable confidence in my performance.

I'm mostly  typing with  one hand now because I'm drinking a Guinness with the other one.   The others who are with me, one of whom -- the token Mormon --  is stone-cold sober and has been designated as the driver for this evening, send their regards.

Drunken Revelry Time in 35 1/2 Hours

Today's final wasn't a breeze, but nothing appeared on the test that I had not anticipated.  My grade should be acceptable.

Tomorrow i have an easy final and one that will most likely be the toughest test I take until the MCAT and LSAT. (Yes, it is overkill to take both the LSAT and the MCAT, but I want to keep all options open.)  I am, I believe, adequately prepared for the more difficult final, though one never knows for certain until he or she gets a first glimpse of the actual test. Regardless, in seventeen hours it will be history. I don't intend to study any longer tonight because I can only review so many times material I have already committed to memory.

After tomorrow I still have one final remaining, but it's not one about which I'm particularly concerned.  Out of sheer habit as well as a touch of OCD/.superstition, I'll refrain from going into full celebratory mode until that last final, however routine it may be, has been handed in to the TA. (The test is so perfunctory that  the professor isn't even making a token appearance.)

I'm working as a paralegal next week. My pseudoaunt is trying a case for the public defender's office in our county. I'm not on the county payroll, which is fine because my pseudoaunt pays better than the county does, anyway.  Pseudoaunt had abdominal surgery eighteen days days ago. She's not yet at 100% and may not be even by the day the trial opens, so I will earn my pay.  The trial will last maybe two days, after which I will formally begin my vacation.

Spring Break

Spring Break is coming up sooner than one would think. Different universities now hold their breaks at different times, probably in part to minimize the sort of drunken revelry from the past that rivaled the Mardi Gras on Bourbon Street. Spring Break is almost a redundancy at a party school such as the one I attend. One would leave campus for some vacation site where not half as much is going on as is happening a  block away from campus on any given Wednesday. Still, some of my acquaintances have plans to attempt serious partying in various locales, Palm Springs being one. Why in hell would one leave the coastal paradise of my university to travel to Palm Springs for the purpose of getting drunk?  From what I've been told, the booze here is every bit as potent, and the view is far more scenic.

My spring break will be compromised somewhat by my "Fiddler on the Roof" obligation. Our opening night is March 22, with performances following on the 23rd and 24th. We won't have any more performances until after spring break is over, but we will have two rehearsals during the week. Our next performance will not be until April 7. The scheduling on this was really poor, but there were supposedly problems with booking the venue we needed.

We did find a replacement Hodel after our original Hodel quit in a huff. The new one played the role three years ago and seems to have a remrkable recollection of the lines. She's also far more talented than our original Hodel. In addition to greater acting skills, she has a much bigger and more pleasant voice, which causes me to have to hold back less.  All things considered, our original Chava's departure was a good thing.

My friend Candace's Spring Break coincides with mine, so she's coming here to visit. Her university is in central California , so she's happy for a change of scenery. The cows are starting to get to her.

Au revior!

Crashing Someone Else's Family Reunion

My PseudoAunt Jillian's family has convened to celebrate the birthday of Tim, her youngest brother. It's turned into a week-long party. The only downside is that no one is passing any booze in my direction. I'm living vicariously through other tipsy people. We're close enough to everything at our hotel that no one needs to drive. I can drive legally, but no one is asking me to drive because everyone but my Uncle Scott has rental cars, which don't allow drivers my age to operate them. My Uncle Scott just says that he likes his car the way it is, without any major dents or deployed airbags. What a buzzkill!

PseudoAunt herself hasn't consumed alcohol becasue she's recovering from a renal calculus procedure. She doesn't drink that much anyway. She went to BYU, and probably gave up the habit of drinking while she ws there. Demerol and Vicodin trump booze any day, apparently. One of PseudoAunt's sisters-in-law is every bit as sober as I am because she's pregnant. She's taking every opportunity to poke fun at the drunks, which is pretty funny, because when she's not pregnant, she's the single largest consumer of alcohol in the entire group. She thinks it doesn't count because she only drinks fine wine. Drunk is drunk, I told her. At least she can stop when she's preggers. She thinks that is proof positive that she doesn't have a problem with alcohol. I say the verdict is not yet in on that one.

I derive a great deal of pleasure from watching people who are under the influence of mood-altering substances. People I ordinarily would barely tolerate are hysterical when they get a little moonshine in their systems. I'm not naming names here.

Cheers!