So my first E&M exam is in an hour and a half. We can drop our lowest midterm score at the end of the quarter, but I still want to do well. But we'll see how that goes.

Everything on the exam is basically Coulomb's and Gauss's Laws, which are easy enough concept-wise. It's the mathematics I'm going to have problems with. Last time I did calculus was--as you may remember--about a year ago. And before that it had been several years since. So needless to say, the integrations and derivations and whatnot are giving me a little bit of pain. But so is trying to remember anything from mechanics. Most of the kids in the class had taken mechanics just last quarter, so stuff like velocity and acceleration and springs and whatever else are fresh in their brains. I have to pull that file out from a few years ago and hope it isn't corrupted too much yet.

Hopefully the test is on most the new stuff, not crazy things like "An electron is shot into an electric field of strength X... Find the instantaneous velocity of the electron at t = 30 sec." I think I'd panic and perhaps die.

A negatively-charged Ranor is walking towards the physics classroom, containing a midterm freak-out field of of strength y, at x m/sec. How close does Ranor approach the physics classroom before stopping, turning around, and running for dear life?

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Electricity and internet access have returned to my room after an absence since Thursday night.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to turn in some online homework, post some photos on Facebook from last weekend, send an e-mail to an old professor with info she needs to write me a recommendation letter for grad school, reacquaint myself with the wide world of internet pornography, and explain to everyone why I never replied to their e-mails...

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A two-week break is scarcely enough to make a completely fresh and rested start to a new quarter. We're two weeks in and I already feel like giving up. Honestly, though, all I do is drive, go to class, go to work, come home, and do homework.

And it's going to be like this for ten. More. Weeks.

I need to find some place to take a nap in the middle of the day where I won't be gawked at or asked "Are you okay?" Well, I was, you bastard, until you interrupted my nap with your inquisitions laced with faux-concern.

Fuck this. I had more to say, but my back is killing me...

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I am sitting in the airport terminal waiting for my flight to take me home. I am supposed to work today, but I did tell my boss that I'd be flying in and wasn't sure if I'd make it on time, so what I think I'll do instead is get further acquainted with my guitar (I haven't played all weekend so I'm sure to be the crappiest one in class on Wednesday!!!) and finish the physics homework and reading I neglected to do this weekend while utterly sloshed.

Well, San Diego, it's been real. While I'm understandably sad to leave such good friends behind, I do miss my own bed. And my giant plasma television.

Hopefully, I'll be back soon as a graduate student. I know I won't be able to have a life so full of beer and adventure if that happens, but I'm sure the opportunity will present itself. Especially with good friends in San Diego.

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"There is no such thing as an alcoholic. There is only such thing as a loser."

I fly home tomorrow, but I wish I didn't have to. I want to stay longer and play more board games and drink more beer and enjoy more of the fine San Diego weather... but alas, all good things come to an end.

Ah, well.

BEER ME SOME CAKE!

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I don't like pretending to like people, but I do it so as to not create awkward social situations.

But it makes me feel awkward.

I don't know. I just don't like this guy. He kinda gets on my nerves a little bit. Just a little.

Okay, more than a little.

But he's one of my friend's friends and I don't want to be rude.

Meh.

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I don't know. I'm not too much of a music snob, but most (note: NOT all) mainstream hip hop, r&b, and pop music just doesn't speak to me the way it does to others.

Which is why when they started busting out the Chris Brown, I was not particularly interested in sticking around any longer. Just bored me.

So, in conclusion: good night.

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I've been drinking for the last 12--almost 13 hours. Not like a drink an hour, either. We're talking pretty drunk.

For almost 13 hours.

Today was a lot of fun except my friend's boyfriend kept getting kicked out of the bars we visited at Pacific Beach. Apparently, if you look too drunk, that's a reason to get the boot.

I understand why they'd want to do that--to protect their own asses--but it was still very frustrating to have to leave after we were having such a good time.

I still want to party...ish. But I'm getting tired. I guess time will tell how much more abuse this body and mind can take.

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