Let's look on the BRIGHTSIDE.

If it were up to me, I could bitch and moan about chemistry for quite a while.

Perhaps the most succinctly my sentiments have ever been put manifests in the words of the anonymous veterans of organic chemistry lab, as they remain etched for eternity on a lab table:"I hate chemistry." "i know. this is 4 smart people." "FUCK you."

And truly, I think I'm just a complainer. I just whine. It's something I find reaaaaallly annoying about myself.

But instead: I shall think happy thoughts -- these will probably revolve around food.

1) I had a shawarma today. I love shawarmas. I love Basha's.

2) I bought clementines (SEEDLESS) at Provigo yesterday.

3) Provigo now sells Wheetabix.

4) How I Met Your Mother is hilarious.

5) I am alive.

6) My laptop still works (I had a brief laptop-Darjeeling tea water damage scare, from which my wonderful machine recovered unscathed).

7) The cashier at DeSerres not only didn't judge my love of Legos but bought the exact helicopter model I wanted the day before.

8) I'm American. This is not a statement about Canadians or other nationalities. It's just that I've never experienced for myself that stigma that can come with being American outside of the America. Identifying myself as "American" has so many different meanings. I was born and raised in America. And despite my predisposition for complaining, I've really had a great 18 years of life so far, with few real actual hardships and many white whines. I am not embarrassed to say I'm American. And right now, I am basking happily in the notoriety of being American. America represent, yo.

9) I'm in FREAKING Montreal.

10) I don't have to wear pants in my dorm room.

11) I'm in my dorm room.

12) I can read and write.

13) You can read 12) and take a moment to realize the profundity of that statement.

14) Or not.

15) Brandon Flowers was born.

This is what organic chemistry does to me.

So down in the dumps that I'm ready to become rather intoxicated and wail Beatles songs at a bar on Open Mic night until I'm pulled off the stage.

i'm sad

i need to be comforted

let's get drunk

listen to the Beatles for anything

why listen when i can sing?

but i need an audience.

chemistryyyyyyy.

you treat me like a toy

i put so much effort into making this work

and you just laugh at me

you're just too complicated

too fucked up inside

you need to see someone

a shrink. God. a Beatles concert.

Causation: Pen Ink...Pages Used...Notes Taken.

Midterms are finally...over! So...onto my first college paper (!) and DUNDUNDUN *finals*

But after having had to handwrite so many notes for orgo while studying and having to type so many psych lectures (for $$), I'm tired, so I'll just show you pictures of this awesome specialty paper/pen store on Parc. I love this place...though it's too pricy for me, once in a while I'll splurge. Good place for gifts too.

Look at the timestamp. This was so long ago. Those pens are long-out-of-ink. So are my second batch which were Pilot Precise V7s. Right now I'm using a Pilot Hi-Tecpoint V5. It's so great.

I pretty much know I'm being a bore. This blog is kind of crappy IMO. But I don't feel like writing about all the drama llamas and every little thing that happens because 1) I'm lazy, 2) I'm so afraid of being judged by people who I have to deal with on a daily basis, 3) I'm lazy.