So, after you work out and get a good sweat, you take a shower. But if your shower is long and hot, you sweat afterwards. It almost defeats the purpose of showering in the first place. That's like a lot of things.
My time management is going down the toilet. I played sports for two reasons. First because I enjoy it, and secondly. . . for time management. My time management during sports was not great this past semester, so I wonder if that second reason is even a reason anymore. So, why take a shower if your just going to be sweaty afterwards?
Reading break has been fantastic, but now it is over. Back to the books.
More metaphoric pieces on the way. Besides, they're fun to make up especially when they has obvious flaws in them.
Anywho, peace out.
Friday, February 24, 2006
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Life is Good
Sweet glory, it's reading break. It's almost Wednesday.... which is sad because the past two days have gone so fast. I've been haning out with the few people that are left on campus, mainly out of province peeps and the few that live too far away (i.e. Thunder Bay) to go home for just a week. Right now, I'm at Brian's place waiting in queue to play warcraft with him. We usually do this on Saturday nights where we play into the night gearing up our characters with the finest gear such as my Leggings of Transcendence.
My stress level has gone down to almost nothing now. Volleyball is over after a heartbreaking loss on Saturday to make it into playoffs. It went to five games with the fifth set score ending up as 15-13. But without volleyball, I now have evenings, which will be nice. I hope to average 10 hours a night for the next week. As for now, stay classy British Colombia. (Let's face it, no one in Ontario reads my blogs.)
P.S. Milkshakes, tzsiki and springrolls for warcraft snacks tonight, compliments of the Redeemer food plan.
My stress level has gone down to almost nothing now. Volleyball is over after a heartbreaking loss on Saturday to make it into playoffs. It went to five games with the fifth set score ending up as 15-13. But without volleyball, I now have evenings, which will be nice. I hope to average 10 hours a night for the next week. As for now, stay classy British Colombia. (Let's face it, no one in Ontario reads my blogs.)
P.S. Milkshakes, tzsiki and springrolls for warcraft snacks tonight, compliments of the Redeemer food plan.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Suppose I Said Colours Change for No Good Reason
So, right now I'm feeling kinda defeated. Mainly because of Calculus. Wow, that course is starting to get retarded.
I've did well in Calc first semester finishing with a strong A and second semester started off alright. We just received our midterms and I did well (especially since most of the class failed) and as of last week I wasn't worried at all about the rest that the course had to offer. But now for the past two weeks the material we've been covering seems so incredibly irrelevant and difficult that I can't see any other reason for that type of math to exist other than for the pure reason to get students in a bad mood.
I've got to the stage where I have given up on assignment questions that seems so retartedly difficult that it's not even worth giving them a shot. The past two assignments have been like this, and from what I've heard from my classmates, they feel the same way. This is not my character, because usually I give 'er shit until I get the concept or the question right. I have a feeling that if Mrs. Yip was my teacher I'd be getting the concepts . . . her door was always open at lunch.
There are three (and a half) situations when you will hear James curse allowed:
1) When he stubs his toes (they both have been broken and have an unusual shape to them)
2) When he screws up making freaking spaghetti not once, but twice in one night (who does that)
3) When he is very frustrated (the "very" takes a bit to come by, and usually 2 questions from my textbook will get me there)
3.5) When a rogue draws aggro and dies before I can spam a heal.
And maybe when I'm around Jeff Gerber just because I want to be cool and impress him with my sweet sailor mouth (but not really.)
Thought I'd vent, and you suckers read it. HA!
I've did well in Calc first semester finishing with a strong A and second semester started off alright. We just received our midterms and I did well (especially since most of the class failed) and as of last week I wasn't worried at all about the rest that the course had to offer. But now for the past two weeks the material we've been covering seems so incredibly irrelevant and difficult that I can't see any other reason for that type of math to exist other than for the pure reason to get students in a bad mood.
I've got to the stage where I have given up on assignment questions that seems so retartedly difficult that it's not even worth giving them a shot. The past two assignments have been like this, and from what I've heard from my classmates, they feel the same way. This is not my character, because usually I give 'er shit until I get the concept or the question right. I have a feeling that if Mrs. Yip was my teacher I'd be getting the concepts . . . her door was always open at lunch.
There are three (and a half) situations when you will hear James curse allowed:
1) When he stubs his toes (they both have been broken and have an unusual shape to them)
2) When he screws up making freaking spaghetti not once, but twice in one night (who does that)
3) When he is very frustrated (the "very" takes a bit to come by, and usually 2 questions from my textbook will get me there)
3.5) When a rogue draws aggro and dies before I can spam a heal.
And maybe when I'm around Jeff Gerber just because I want to be cool and impress him with my sweet sailor mouth (but not really.)
Thought I'd vent, and you suckers read it. HA!
Monday, February 13, 2006
I Love Showers
At the moment I have 3 fantastically marvelous CD's that I have magically put together with the help of my music collection and the glorious technology of CD burners. Showering has never been better.
I was never one to listen to music whilst growing up in Ye Olde Surrey. I think the greatest extent of me listening to things in the shower was when I put on Grizzly games on my moms ghetto blaster so I could hear the sweet connections of Mike Bibby and Micheal Dickerson shouted out by the announcer (what was his name again...It's kinda bugging me.) But ever since my RA (Ye Olde Eric O'Neil) started blasting praise music and singing aloud with the power of a Glucose ---> ATP reaction that was unsupervised by biological catalysts, I never thought that music and hot water really connected.
I tried it out, and I believe (to the extent that one can understand his own thoughts and action in response to his environment) that I like it. First of all, to make the shower the best possible, I stepped up the hygienic products. From now on my shampoos are Herbal Essence of the fruity variety (currently Citrus Lift, which pretty much smells like you're washing your hair with grapefruits and oranges) and my soap is Irish Spring with aloe.
Now comes the music. It all depends what mood I'm in, but my 3 CD's are the best of
1) Pedro the Lion (1st three song: Indian Summer, Criticism as Inspiration, Second Best)
2) Norah Jones (Painter Song, Come Away with Me, Sunrise)
and
3) The Weakerthans (Left and Leaving, One Great City, ....not sure)
I know the fist few songs because I don't random the discs and my showers are about 10 minutes long. But those ten minutes are fantastically glorious. They include me singing harmony, playing air guitar (Adam, you taught me everything I know), and dancing while trying to maintain my balance on the slick floor. I don't think there's anything I enjoy more than hot water and music.
Peace out.
P.S. Bryant Reeves sucks.
I was never one to listen to music whilst growing up in Ye Olde Surrey. I think the greatest extent of me listening to things in the shower was when I put on Grizzly games on my moms ghetto blaster so I could hear the sweet connections of Mike Bibby and Micheal Dickerson shouted out by the announcer (what was his name again...It's kinda bugging me.) But ever since my RA (Ye Olde Eric O'Neil) started blasting praise music and singing aloud with the power of a Glucose ---> ATP reaction that was unsupervised by biological catalysts, I never thought that music and hot water really connected.
I tried it out, and I believe (to the extent that one can understand his own thoughts and action in response to his environment) that I like it. First of all, to make the shower the best possible, I stepped up the hygienic products. From now on my shampoos are Herbal Essence of the fruity variety (currently Citrus Lift, which pretty much smells like you're washing your hair with grapefruits and oranges) and my soap is Irish Spring with aloe.
Now comes the music. It all depends what mood I'm in, but my 3 CD's are the best of
1) Pedro the Lion (1st three song: Indian Summer, Criticism as Inspiration, Second Best)
2) Norah Jones (Painter Song, Come Away with Me, Sunrise)
and
3) The Weakerthans (Left and Leaving, One Great City, ....not sure)
I know the fist few songs because I don't random the discs and my showers are about 10 minutes long. But those ten minutes are fantastically glorious. They include me singing harmony, playing air guitar (Adam, you taught me everything I know), and dancing while trying to maintain my balance on the slick floor. I don't think there's anything I enjoy more than hot water and music.
Peace out.
P.S. Bryant Reeves sucks.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Enzymes
Alrighty then...holy poop! We learned about enzymes in Bio 12 (Handy's engaged? Weird) and now we're pretty much recapping everything I learned in grade 11 and 12 in my Bio 122 class. But, we stumbled around enzymes again and I honestly can't see how anyone out there who is a biologist can not be a creationist. Lets recap.
Enzymes - complex proteins made up of amino acids (just the formation of these freaking thing will blow your head off, but I won't get into that) which is of a specific shape. The shapes of these enzymes are due to intermolecular bonding within the proteins (H-bonds, etc) and have a bonding site that is specific to a particular molecule.
What and Enzyme does - Pretty much it acts as a catalyst to make a reaction that would not usually occur on it's own. A catalyst pretty much speeds up a reaction, or in this case, provides a lower activation energy so a reaction can take place in the body.
There are tons of different enzymes, all specialized for a SPECIFIC reaction to take place.
I don't really want to get into the importance of these things in the citric acid cycle or in glycolosis, but the point I'm trying to make is that they are complex, and without them, we couldn't survive.
So, if you're not a creationist, are you telling me that these very sensitive (to temp. and pH) and specific proteins kinda just happened? That the enzyme that follows the reaction of the enzyme that follows the reaction of the enzyme before it "got lucky" (kinda like Adam, he's has the best of luck...wish I was him...he has such a nice civic...and such good taste in music) and due to evolution everything fell into place.
But that's only part of it. Anyways, all this goes on without you even knowing about it, and you survive all because these little complexes lower activation energies of reactions that we need to happen to survive.
"J" dawg signing out.
P.S. Chappy, name the kid James, or Coco. I mean, you know I had a big part on why he/she is coming into the world.
Enzymes - complex proteins made up of amino acids (just the formation of these freaking thing will blow your head off, but I won't get into that) which is of a specific shape. The shapes of these enzymes are due to intermolecular bonding within the proteins (H-bonds, etc) and have a bonding site that is specific to a particular molecule.
What and Enzyme does - Pretty much it acts as a catalyst to make a reaction that would not usually occur on it's own. A catalyst pretty much speeds up a reaction, or in this case, provides a lower activation energy so a reaction can take place in the body.
There are tons of different enzymes, all specialized for a SPECIFIC reaction to take place.
I don't really want to get into the importance of these things in the citric acid cycle or in glycolosis, but the point I'm trying to make is that they are complex, and without them, we couldn't survive.
So, if you're not a creationist, are you telling me that these very sensitive (to temp. and pH) and specific proteins kinda just happened? That the enzyme that follows the reaction of the enzyme that follows the reaction of the enzyme before it "got lucky" (kinda like Adam, he's has the best of luck...wish I was him...he has such a nice civic...and such good taste in music) and due to evolution everything fell into place.
But that's only part of it. Anyways, all this goes on without you even knowing about it, and you survive all because these little complexes lower activation energies of reactions that we need to happen to survive.
"J" dawg signing out.
P.S. Chappy, name the kid James, or Coco. I mean, you know I had a big part on why he/she is coming into the world.
Friday, February 03, 2006
Los Mexicanos
I'll give you a quick taste of what Mexico was like because...well, just because.
Brian and I arrived in Mexico after a interesting flight over where there was much cheering by the passengers on the plane. Most of the rowdy humans were of the younger variety, which fits into the perfect stereotype that all young people are loud, drunk and and shower regularly. We caught a cab/ van (micro?) to the resort. On the ride over we were a bit concerned because we were driving on a lot of dirt roads with pot holes in them. Our fears were extinguished soon after when we caught glimpse of the lobby of the resort. It was a huge thatched roof that probably reached about 75 or 100 feet with a huge chandelier hanging from the center of a large log. The floor was nice stone and we were pretty impressed. We got to our rooms, cranked the AC down to 15 degrees and set out for the pool and some drinks. I wasn't in a beer mood so I asked Brian if it was "ok" to order a fruity drink, assuming I was putting my manhood at stake. He said it was fine, ordered me a strawberry dakery and from that point on I received odd looks from the bartender, some old ladies smoking in the corner, and Brian.
The parent arrived the next morning with me awaiting them in the lobby. It was a gay ol' time. After an hour or two we were down at the beach. It was a nice beach, but a little bit rocky in the wrong areas so you often stubbed your toes, cut your feet open, or grated some garlic on them. The food was tasty, free and always available. We each received a wristband at the very beginning of the trip when we signed in, and this little blue strip gave us permission to gain 10-15 pounds. The days when something like this:
Wake up, go to breakfast with the fam
After breakfast sit at the beach
At 10 go for "second breakfast"
At 11 get drinks because the beach bar was open
At 12 go for lunch (often at the snack bar where pizza, fries and dirty cheese and nachos awaited us
Go booooooogy boarding
Have "twosies" which was often dessert at the buffet
Chill, read, boogy, sleep at the beach till five
Eat some more, get a few more drinks
It was pretty much repetitive after that. You could rotate reading, sleeping or boogy boarding with eating and you'll have our days. It was glorious. Josh and I hit the gym up once, but after that lack luster evening we decided "why waste time burning calories when we can be ingesting them?"
Brian and I arrived in Mexico after a interesting flight over where there was much cheering by the passengers on the plane. Most of the rowdy humans were of the younger variety, which fits into the perfect stereotype that all young people are loud, drunk and and shower regularly. We caught a cab/ van (micro?) to the resort. On the ride over we were a bit concerned because we were driving on a lot of dirt roads with pot holes in them. Our fears were extinguished soon after when we caught glimpse of the lobby of the resort. It was a huge thatched roof that probably reached about 75 or 100 feet with a huge chandelier hanging from the center of a large log. The floor was nice stone and we were pretty impressed. We got to our rooms, cranked the AC down to 15 degrees and set out for the pool and some drinks. I wasn't in a beer mood so I asked Brian if it was "ok" to order a fruity drink, assuming I was putting my manhood at stake. He said it was fine, ordered me a strawberry dakery and from that point on I received odd looks from the bartender, some old ladies smoking in the corner, and Brian.
The parent arrived the next morning with me awaiting them in the lobby. It was a gay ol' time. After an hour or two we were down at the beach. It was a nice beach, but a little bit rocky in the wrong areas so you often stubbed your toes, cut your feet open, or grated some garlic on them. The food was tasty, free and always available. We each received a wristband at the very beginning of the trip when we signed in, and this little blue strip gave us permission to gain 10-15 pounds. The days when something like this:
Wake up, go to breakfast with the fam
After breakfast sit at the beach
At 10 go for "second breakfast"
At 11 get drinks because the beach bar was open
At 12 go for lunch (often at the snack bar where pizza, fries and dirty cheese and nachos awaited us
Go booooooogy boarding
Have "twosies" which was often dessert at the buffet
Chill, read, boogy, sleep at the beach till five
Eat some more, get a few more drinks
It was pretty much repetitive after that. You could rotate reading, sleeping or boogy boarding with eating and you'll have our days. It was glorious. Josh and I hit the gym up once, but after that lack luster evening we decided "why waste time burning calories when we can be ingesting them?"
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