Things I Should Have Done In College

Now that I'm "officially' done with college (I was unofficially done about 2 years ago, when I stopped caring), I have the perfect time to reflect on the things I did. After about 5 minutes of that I then realized I didn't do a lot of things.  The following is a list of things wanted to do, but didn't.


1. Updated My Blog More (Specifically About That Trip)

I'll start this off with an admission: a good portion of the reason I'm writing this particular blog post is to try out my new drawing tablet that my amazing friends got me for graduation. Following that admission, I'd like to thank Austin, Christian and Shelly for making me have to draw more.

Maybe now the floating, disembodied heads of my friends will stop haunting me.

Now, I'd like to issue an apology. I'm sorry I said I'd do a blog post about the trip last August and then never made one. I'm sure you've noticed that I'm super lazy. The fact that this post is even up (it is up, right?) is a miracle. Sure I could make excuses like: "I'm too tired" or "I can't draw" or "I have to pass this class so I can graduate," but I know now that this blog is like, super important. For serious.

I resolve now to post at least one long blog post a month, or 2 short ones. If I don't keep up with the posts, I give anyone permission to come to my place of residence and slap me until I make one. Did I mention I'll be living in South Korea for a year?

2. Kept Up With Friends (Or To Not Have Been A Total Social Recluse)

Save for the aforementioned three people and my roommates, I feel like the little social interaction I had over the last year or so has made me somewhat of a hermit. In fact I recall about a month this last summer where both my roommates were gone and "all" my other friends were out of town or busy. Most people would call it June, but I like to call the Garlic Month.

I call it so because I partook of pepperoni and garlic pizza at least once a week and as a result, for the first time I could actually feel how bad I smelled. On top of it all I frequently talked to myself, and, if I didn't have work that day, I would just stay in my pajamas. Had my beard been longer and grayer, I would have been the very model of a stereotypical hermit. Once I even got to yell at some kids for hitting a baseball into our window!

And I also became an olde timey prospector that same month.

Aside from that month, I've kept an acceptable appearance/smell for society. So why do I feel like society is forcing me to be a recluse? Or "reclusing" me, if you will.  Well, the problem isn't society; it's me.  And it's my own stupid fault I can't keep up with friends.  I just get too awkward about calling people.  I'm never sure on the etiquette on calling friends you haven't talked to for awhile. So to avoid all awkwardness, I usually just don't call. That can actually lead to further awkwardness later on. Unfortunately, I've never been a good at thinking ahead. Just ask me anytime after I've fallen for eating some Panda Express again.

3. Found Out What That Noise I Always Heard When Walking Past The Student Center Theater Was

Every single time I walked by it sounded like someone was drilling for about 5 seconds. There was never a time I walked by when I did not hear the sound. It obviously couldn't have been some sort of machinery, so my mind instantly came up with the following scenario: the slowest, most patient heist ever pulled. Slowly drilling into the vault, only turning the drill on for 5 seconds at a time over the course of 4 years and coincidentally only when I walked by. It is the only logical explanation.

My theory doesn't go over as well when I shout it at random passers-by.

4. Chose A Major That I Liked

To those that know me, which is really anyone who reads this blog, it is no secret that I kind of actually hate my major.  Sure, it didn't start out that way. At the beginning I'd feel like a whiz getting the console to output "Hello World" or finally figuring out how a loop worked. Fast forward a few years and I felt like a moron when, for an assignment involving a 3D simulation of a flood in Poudre Valley, all I could do was turn the entire screen blue.  This resulted in me having to repeat that class and put off graduation another semester.

I was barely a decent programmer and what little joy I got from supposedly solving a problem was squashed when I'd get my grades back. So why did I choose computer science? It was all because of a clever ruse pulled by the Computer Science Department.  My freshman year when I was "branching out" I tried loads of things, English, Political Science, Oceanography, more English.  But one class can be attributed to my downfall: CS150.

CS150 was a Java programming class not intended for CS majors. Let me repeat that: it was NOT intended for CS majors so it was not indicative of the course work.  Somewhere in my mind I knew, but I completely ignored it. Instead, I was amazed by the subject matter, silently hoping that this is what programmers got to do.

What was the class about, you say? Shapes, basically. We learned how to draw shapes in Java. It was essentially the preschool equivalent of programming.

Fooled by that class, I signed up for CS160 the next semester. And if I hadn't done that... well my life would be decidedly different, but more to the matter at hand, I wouldn't have number 5 on this list.


5. Been The Better Person (For The Wrong Reasons)

In my CS160 class, I met my future ex-girlfriend. There were things about our relationship that I thought might cause a problem down the line, but I foolishly ignored them. After about 2-ish years, she dumped me in the summer of 2010 for reasons that were never clear to me (and perhaps to her).  I won't lie; I was devastated and I'm still feeling the effects.

Not being stupid or irrational at all.

Dealing with an extremely damaged ego and going to therapy for a year made me come to terms with a lot of personal problems.  Yet, no matter how much I pushed through the tough times, there was always one thing I just felt like I had to do. It was the one thing I wanted to do more than anything, but never got the chance:  to get the most polite revenge ever.

I played it out in my mind. I'd see her one last time, we'd have awkward eye contact, and I'd say, as genuinely as I could, "Hey. Take care of yourself." Then just walk away. No time for her to respond. Just leave. At that point the camera would slowly zoom out and the credits would roll.

Then my glasses would inexplicably darken and something would explode.

It's silly, I know that it would have been a bad idea, and I'm glad I actually never did do it. She's got her own life now and I wish her all the best (well, most of the best, she did cause me untold amounts of existential turmoil). But I've got my own life to worry about and, with any luck, can still get some revenge by living it. That'll show her!

The Worst Part About Coming Back From A Mid-Semester Break (Other Than School)

I like the schedule I have up here at school, for the most part anyways. I go to school and work 5 days a week. Every Monday is the same as every other Monday, and yet, somehow, I never would consider my schedule to have any kind of "routine". After this past week of school following a week off, I realized that I have more structure and routine when I don't have any structure or routine. If that makes sense. Which I'm fairly sure it doesn't. But I'll elaborate, because I'm so nice that way.


Let's start with my school schedule. Monday and Wednesdays I go from about 2pm to 1am with a few breaks. Tuesday and Friday I go from about 9am to 4pm. Don't even get me started on Thursdays. Well, ok, you can get me started. After that, though, no getting me started! Thursdays are actually not so bad as I go from about 2pm to 8pm, and yet I hate them the most. Now, every day contains both work and school as well as about 40-60 minutes for travel to and from school. So I clearly keep busy. But, if this schedule were a person, it would be a schizophrenic hobo, alternately mumbling quietly to itself about a squeaky bike wheel and yelling about the plotter being out of paper.



Yet, once every semester, something wonderful happens. Perhaps it is even magical. Glorious would also be a word I would use to describe it. I get a full week off. That is 9-ish days of absolute nothing. Just how I like it. And this past Thanksgiving was one of those magic-glor-wonderful-ious-al weeks. Without even trying, I settled into a routine. Up til' about 2am, slept until about 11am; it was beautiful. I felt grand.

Then it's the Monday the day after break and I forget the combination to my bike lock. What. The heck. I ride the piece of.... bike every day! Sometimes twice! Thrice even! But I forgot it anyways. Clearly my mind didn't deem it important enough while it was on vacation. After a brief battle with my memory, I recalled it and headed out.


Then later at work that day, I forgot how to help people print on the plotter. The plotter for God's sake! I have to deal with that unholy demon-printer and it's various incarnations so often that I have nightmares about it! So how could I just forget? Don't I have even some sort of routine for work? Other than the list of web sites I go to when I'm bored?


I don't know why I was so forgetful, but I did realize that I actually had some sort of a routine even if it was a strange one. And if I've learned anything from all this, it's that I really like doing nothing. I already knew that though. So really I didn't learn anything. Yay!

Losing My Keys: A Bad Day That, In Retrospect, Wasn't So Bad

You know the feeling. You've lost your keys. Now you can't get into your house, car, or any number of places. Well, yesterday the same thing happened to me. As soon as I got to campus I was surprised to realize that my keys, in all their jingly goodness, were NOT in my coat pocket like I believed them to be. I mumbled a certain expletive deleted and locked my bike up. This began what was one of the most needlessly stressful days of my life.

I immediately thought that my keys fell out of my coat pocket. Now, had I been rational, I'd have realized that I've never had my keys fall out of my pocket without hearing them delightfully jingle to the ground. And if I'd been even more rational, I'd have remembered that I've been riding my bike to and from campus for roughly 4 years now and never once have had my keys fall out of any jacket. But I was not being rational. I daresay I was being irrational.

So my first thoughts were of my keys, falling, in slow motion, from my pocket, only to land in the nearby creek and be swept away, never to be seen again. Which makes perfect sense, of course. I ride my bike through a park that has a path next to a creek. And by next to a creek, I mean about 20 feet away from a creek. So somehow, my keys would have had to launch themselves from my pocket and soar the 20 feet to the creek and then somehow become weightless enough to be swept away by the actually pretty stagnant water.

But I was already late for my recitation. I couldn't go back to look! And it'd be dark the next time I would be able to go back and look. Curses! I begrudgingly made my way to class and grumbled some more inappropriate words to myself. Or at least I hope those words were quiet enough that it could be considered "to myself" and not "loud enough that people think I'm crazy."

I ran on auto pilot through my recitation. Barely distracted enough not to think about my keys. Man, now I'll have to replace all of them! That's the 2 house keys, the mail key, the key for my broken car, the key to my brother's broken car, the keys to my parent's house... In my second class I turned in what was perhaps the harshest class survey I've ever turned in. I actually put disagree in some categories rather than neutral. I feel so dirty.

Well f....dang, I thought to myself, my USB drive is on my keys too! Now I can't save all the hilarious pictures I find on the interne- I mean save all the important powerpoint presentations and spreadsheets I have. One more thing to worry about. One more thing to make me moody. I was somewhat snippy with the guy at the Bagel Place when he took forever with my card. This whole key situation was turning me into a monster!

In a moment of clarity, I texted my roommates to see when/if they'd be home today. Maybe I just left my keys on my desk and they could check for me. Hold on, I usually give myself a quick pat down to check I have the necessities (wallet, phone, keys, ....iPod) I must have dropped them! But I had to try! Maybe I just thought my keys were in my coat because my gloves were also in that pocket. They're probably nestled comfortably on my desk next to all my awesome desk chotchkies. My roommate Jeff said he wouldn't be home until 4:30. That's when I start work. Now I'll never know where my keys are! And by never I mean I won't know until then!

I scarfed down a bagel or two with my buddy Rob from class. He was having a great day, he told me. "Well I'm glad everything's turning up Rob today, but I lost my keys!" I complained at him, "And my phone's battery is almost dead! Which bothers me for some reason!" Despite my complaining, Rob still had a good day.

At precisely 4:16, I received a text: "No luck my man." My heart sank. KEYS! Why Have you forsaken me! I angrily tore off my coat. The anger had caused me to perspire. I knew I should have worn a lighter coat. *GASP* I had worn a lighter coat! At least before I left the house I had! It was on my bed! A quick text to Jeff. The longest minute in my life waiting in reply hoping my phone had enough juice to receive one last text message......

"Luck. Found em" HUZZAH! I've triumphed over .... adversity? Well, not really. I've triumphed over something that was sure. I looked around to see if any one was looking and did a jump and heel click. Crap, people were looking. But I don't care! My keys are waiting for me at home! Nothing could get me down! I had survived being unable to enter my home and therefore I had survived being homeless.

Work was a blur of helping people print and looking at time wasting stuff on the Internet (mostly the latter). I pedaled home at my leisure and found my keys, on my bed, next to the jacket I should have worn. As my phone weakly vibrated to indicate it's near-dead battery, I hooked it up to the charger, happily jingled my keys, and grabbed myself an orange cream soda. Because I deserved it. Probably.