I finally got my Security in Computing exam out of the way. Basically, every line that I read in the textbook was worthless. There were only four long answer questions on the final, and each one was a practical, as opposed to theoretical, question that we never learned. I had to learn how to do all the math right in the exam. At least it was open book. For some reason I started getting fucked up answers when trying to find the modulus with my calculator. Calculating the modulus of anything about 10^100 results in inaccuracy, I’m guessing. At first I thought it was my calculator giving me some odd values that didn’t correspond with my written ones. When I got home, I checked Pita’s calculator, and got the same answer. Then I checked the built-in calculator on my computer, and it came to the same answer as what I did by hand. So now I have no idea if any of my values are completely fucked. Whether I pass or fail depends completely on how lenient the giving of part marks is. I’m slightly worried, something that doesn’t usually happen when I finish with a course.

I traded in two games, and used two EB gift certificates yesterday, to pick up The Legend of Zelda for my GBA. It ended up costing me $2.50.

I’m getting all psyched up for the LAN party tomorrow. The attendance is supposed to be around 10 people, but Thom’s processor fried yesterday, so he might not be able to go.

It’s very hard for me to get someone out of my mind, once they are there. I have some very odd ideas. My mind starts to wonder.

I wish it was something that I could control better. It’s quite an embarrassing affliction. If anyone really knew what I was thinking, I don’t think they’d understand. I always use my imagination to fill in the blanks, and it ends up driving me nuts. It feels as if I need to imagine, in order to give myself hope, that my faith in humanity can be renewed. I end up being frustrated at myself, and jittery.

Something which only music can cure.

I went for some phở with Iain, Pat, Jason, and Mike on the week-end. I had a fucking great time. Mike is a great person to hang out with. I had Chinese BBQ pork with my noodles though, so I’m not sure if it can be classified as authentic phở.

I met Thom, Mel, Ryan, and Mel on the week-end. I’m still trying to figure out what I’ve done to deserve the company of such a great group of friends.

Thom is a good person to talk to. It turns out that we share the same interest and embarrasement in solo photography. We’ve agreed to go together some night. He’s given me some Slash’s Snakepit, Theatre Of Tragedy (which features some nice female vocals), Paradise Lost, and Tiamat music to sort through.

Aaron was also able to provide me with some Aphex Twin, Hooverphonic, Lamb, Morcheeba, Omni Trio, Supreme Beings of Leisure, St. Germain, Unkle, and Thievery Corporation to listen to. He accepted my MD player as a gift, but I made sure that he was comfortable with it.

It turns out that Ryan and I share some classes together too. He knows me as the person who plays GBA in class all day, and who gets dirty looks from the teacher as a result. I feel terribly bad knowing this. I always believed that my playing was unknown to those around me. I feel as if I’ve insulted some teachers who don’t deserve to be insulted. Of course, the majority of them deserve to have me playing in their faces at the front of the class with the sound cranked, but there are a few that I feel don’t deserve this. I’m still unrepentant about most of the situation though, since my game playing actually aids my concentration.

I went Christmas shopping with Aaron, Thom, and Mel on the weekend. An old lady told me that I looked like Sean Lennon. I’m still not sure if that’s a good thing. I found some great candles at the Body Shop with a scent called Snow. It’s a very neutral smelling scent that’s very inoffensive which I’ve been burning all day to aid in my studying.

Tonight is a night for Beth Gibbons and Glory Box.

There’s always something creepy about talking to my professors. I feel like they have a face to put with my mark. As a number, none of my failures mean anything. But when I talk to one, I feel like I’m letting them down. I’m scared that they’ll know what my marks are, and that from then on they’ll recognize me as not going to class and failing the mid-terms. Usually I can’t stand e-mailing my profs. It has almost never been a pleasant experience.

I actually feel like I need to get drunk before going out this Friday. I’ve never felt like that before. Apparently, it’s one of the signs of alcohol abuse. I’ve only drank so that I could fall asleep a few times, which is another sign. It’s not a problem though, so I’m not worried.

Aaron showed me the cabin that we’re renting next year. It’s so damn sweet. The whole deal has been moved from reading week to some week-end in January, which should save us some money. Aaron’s going to let me borrow his board, and hopefully I’ll be able to fit into Greg’s boots, so that all I’ll really need to pay for is the lift ticket, the cabin, and the drinks, which should all be under $200.