Work, and Fractals.

I started out intending to write often, and for a while I did.
Now I'm pursuing a job, hating the job I have, and enjoying my time not at work or school relaxing with my ladylove.

BrickCo has pushed my patience beyond breaking, and I cannot wait to gtfo. I need some real income, and something interesting to do with my days other than stand behind a counter while little bastard undisciplined children run rampant through the place.

I hate being at work, although I do love the people I work with. And my time that isn't at work is spent well, and I enjoy my life very much right now.

I just need a book to read this summer.

Also I've been playing with Apophysis, and making fractals. Here's a sample of what I did today. If you'd like one, just let me know what general colours you'd like (and if you know it, the resolution you'd like it in), and I'll get you one right away.

Weeks

It's been more than 3 weeks, my apologies to the fair readers out there. Time is slipping. Midterms approach, I'm in the "let's set up an interview" stage of things with a security based consulting firm, and spending lots of time with my beloved g/f. There's plenty to write about, I'll try and find the time soon.

Forgotten

I think earlier this week I was going to write a post. Kait and I spent a decent amount of time laughing about the topic. We then declared "I should blog that!" I got distracted, and never wrote it. As usual. In the meantime, I have completely forgotten whatever it was I was going to write about.

[insert witty post here]

I really have no idea what it was. Make up your own topic and submit it via comment, maybe I'll ramble about it and declare you today's winner or something.

Popcorn Mishap

I almost forgot. Later last night at Brick, Co., I tried to console myself with some popcorn. My esteemed boss accidentally dropped some hole punch...shrapnel? confetti? little-hole-punched-out-piece-things? into my open bag of popcorn!!!

"I only saw three go in, so if we find three we got them all." she tells me in between giggles.

By the time we finished the bag, I had only found and removed two. I like to think she ate it, and that is just payment for spilling debris into my lovely popcorn bag. In reality, I probably consumed it without even looking, and that could very well be the source of my indigestion last night.

Naturally, she thought this was the funniest thing since Envelope Lady, and we both had a great deal of trouble dealing with customers for the rest of the night because we kept cracking up.

Medication for the Masses

At Brick, Co yesterday, we encountered a very special person. As a holiday promotion, we distributed free boxes to be filled with pieces during January and February. These boxes came collapsed, and nicely packaged in an envelope with information about the promo written on them. You come in, take the box out of the envelope, fill the box with pieces, and go on your merry way. Pretty simple.

A this very special woman came in with her daughter, perhaps 5 or 6. Mom took out the box and unfolded it, and then gave the envelope to her daughter. Both of them filled their respective containers wih pieces. I watched, thinking "Surely the mom is picking what she considers useful pieces for building, and is letting the daughter pick out what she wants. Then she'll combine the collections together in the box and go home. How cute!" ...not quite. She licks and seals the envelope, and then turns to walk out! I caught her before she hit the door, and I didn't even know what to say. I explained that the envelope was just that, and envelope to hold the folded up box in, it was not part of the promo to be filled. This woman had the nerve to turn to me and swear that they were given to her as separate items, and that they say the same information on both pieces, which means she's entitled to fill up th envelope as well. I asked her if she wanted to take some time to combine the collections of pieces, or is she'd like to purchase the enveloped pieces, and she got all huffy and left. I swear, I am the only manager who gets the crazy people. Why me?

Progress.

Today, I verbally Mage-Slapped the woman at the financial aid counter. Yes, I said Mage-Slapped. Think...magical pimp slap. Anyway. My loan was certified right there as I stood in the lobby talking to her supervisor and he punched buttons over her shoulder. So in theory, my loan disbursment should hit the Bursar's office sometime in the coming weeks. That's good enough for the Bursar, b/c I made the financial aid guy WALK the 10 feet to the next counter with me to explain things. Poof, I can register. Over to my advisor's office.

Adv: You know, if you pull your grades up and make it through all 5 of these courses this semester, you can graduate. You should probably put in an application for that.
Me: I should whaaAA?
Adv: Yeah, the application that was due in November...for spring graduation.
Me: Thay have those apparently.
Adv: Yeah, I should have told you about that probably.
Me: Woulda been nice.

Back to the Registrar's office, now wielding a 2 month late application. No fuss, no argument, not even a comment on its lateness. Just "I'll process that right away for you!" I wish I could have had that lady deal with ALL my stuff for school, she was very nice.

I'm now registered for 3/5 classes. I need permission from two professors to get into the closed sections of their classes. Bonus: I've had both these guys before for other things, and they'll likely remember me when I walk into their classroom and say "Sign this."

Now I just need straight A's, and to hope that pulls my GPA up enough to graduate. I don't know if it's possible, I may end up with a summer bs class or two to pad my numbers further. But here's to hoping at least. I haven't had hope in a while. And as our dear friend the Architect would say:

"Hope is the quintessential human delusion."

Mage out.

Swing

Fighting a pretty bad mood swing right now. Nothing makes you feel like a person quite like:

Me: Hello, this is [BlackMa-
Them: What's your SSN?
Me: -ge] and I'm calling about my loan, I spoke with [person] yest-
Them: I have no record of that, I need your SSN to pull up the account.
Me: erday. [#]
Them: I'll look into it, please hold.
>>disconnected<<

Rinse, repeat.

I hate feeling like a little fish. I really dislike knowing that I don't matter to these people. It's not just the people in the offices, the professors don't give a damn either. They aren't there to teach, they're there to do research and get published and do their doctorates. Whether student #111-11-1111 passes or fails doesn't mean anything in their scheme.

Granted, I've made some mistakes. I've turned in things that weren't formatted correctly, or spelled an email address wrong and had something be late b/c of a bounced email. I've flat out missed exams, either b/c I slept in, or b/c I was in a terrible car accident, it doesn't matter really.

I've also worked my ass off, and been rewarded for my work with failing grades b/c I may have solved the problem differently than they anticipated, or done the work as it was printed on the syllabus instead of their new revised version. I've also failed, and this is my favorite, b/c I've done a problem as it was printed...by a professor that didn't speak english well enough to communicate what he really wanted. If you ask for X on paper, you damn well be ready to grade X, and not Y, just b/c you were too stupid to know how to actually SAY you wanted Y in our language. Ugh.

I've also produced amazing work that's been praised. Some's been good enough that I had someone try to plagarize it. Other projects have been modified to be used in future course materials. I've been responsible for teaching classes when the professor can't figure out what to say, but I grasp the concept and have the communication skills to go with the knowledge. There's a lot I've accomplished, and frighteningly enough, I've learned quite a bit in my years at school. I just want the damn piece of paper that says I know something so I can move on with my life.

My biggest concern right now is that if this semester doesn't go right, I have some pretty life changing plans that are going to be instantly train wrecked, and I can't allow that to happen. I need to be done, I need to be done NOW, and I don't know if I can pull it off. And that scares me.

Conspiracy on MLK Blvd

Somewhere along the way I seem to have been tagged as a joke in my college's student database. "Hey, let's fuck with this kid'd account so nothing ever goes as planned!" someone must have said.

Financial Aid: Yes your loan was processed and approved, the funds have been given to the bursar.
Bursar: We don't have the money.
Me: Where the hell is the $6600 that I'm currently paying back to NJClass Loans then?
Financial Aid: At the Bursar's office.
Bursar: It's at Financial Aid.

Me: Can I register for the spring then?
Registrar: Not until the Bursar removes your billing hold.
Bursar: Not until Financial Aid gives us our money.
Financial Aid: It's all taken care of, I don't know why they won't remove the hold. Talk to them.

There was less red tape in DC, and that's saying something. This place seriously must be conspiring against me. All I want, all I need, is my last few classes, so I can take my damn diploma, which probably is written in crayon by a retarded monkey in a top hat, and get a job that allows me the bliss of sitting in a cubicle and giving 25% of my money to the government in taxes, and the remaining 75% of my income can go to paying off my loans like god intended, leaving me nothing.

I don't like this school, I don't particularly think my major was all that interesting, and I don't think anything I learned in a class is applicable in the actual workplace. Basic HTML classes don't mean anything when it comes time to set up a business network. CSS is nice, but your time is better spent on other components of a commercial site, like making it function, and making it secure. Doing script kiddy shit in Access is a waste when if you're doing anything sizable, you need Oracle anyway. I hate this more than I can describe, and it's just making me angry.

Mage out.