Thursday, January 26, 2012

Exams and the Prospect of University

"If we don't go to University, we'll have to make fake ID's for the rest of our lives!"
School sucks ass -- fact.  Around this time of year, high school students vigorously prepare for their end-of-semester exams, spending each night on Facebook studying to acquire a mark that could have great effect on the rest of their lives.

So yeah, no pressure of anything.

And for us graduating students, these marks in particular determine what Universities we go to next year.  As of now, I applied for Laurier, Windsor, Ryerson, and Guelph. The absolute minimum to get into each program is 70% -- pretty reasonable and attainable -- and I plan on achieving that mark, if not better.

The preparation for each exam can take a toll on anyone.  Hell, I'm only writing this article as a BREAK from my study sessions.  Getting home around 4:30, I sat at my table, looking at notes and finishing past-due assignments right up until 6:30, where I ate and watched a little TV.  At 7, I went back to work, looking over theory notes for English, and Cold War facts for Canadian & World Politics.  More and more freakin' reading, until 10:30, when I thought it was best to make the short walk to Tim Horton's, buy a coffee, come home, drink it, and do it again.

Guess which one I bought.  I'll give you a hint: it's the one that you buy to make up for your small...uh, nevermind
After drinking that, spending a half hour on Facebook and Twitter, shamelessly flirting with girls and discussing ways to shamelessly flirt with girls with a male companion over Skype, I hit the books again, looking at my English notes again, learning more than I ever wanted to know about Arthur Miller (Did you know he married Marilyn Monroe?  I know right? That ugly-ass Woody Allen lookalike was hitched and banging Marilyn freakin' Monroe!  If this class has taught me anything, it's that writers get the best broads).

Now, here I am, 1:30 in the morning, heading to bed soon, and I see relaxation and comfort in writing a blog post.  Seriously, if I don't get accepted into any programs for University, I'm gonna go all Red Foreman and start putting foots in asses. 

With a few in class essays tomorrow (well, I guess it's today, or whenever, depending on when you read this...assholes), the real fun starts Friday, with my first full exam in English.  I feel comfortable, as English is a strong suit of mine; the language, at least. Following that, I have a Law exam on Monday morning, then a Chemistry exam Tuesday, with a Canadian & World Politics exam Wednesday, rounding off my first semester of the year.

How have I done so far?  That depends entirely on how you view as "successful".  My first four years of high school were absolute shit -- no, there isn't a better or nicer way of putting it -- absolute shit.  I lacked the work ethic required to get into any post-secondary institution, getting lazy with homework, never handing assignments in on time, never going to get extra help; I was the epitome of what was wrong with kids. After spending the summer working with some high profile people, getting paid doing what I love, and doing things that spark my interest (cottages', parties, friends, girls, the whole shebang), I realized that in order to continue doing those things, I had to make something of myself. 

At the start of the school year, I had two goals in mind: Win a Provincial Championship for football (whoops), and get into a university -- not a college -- university.  

As the year progressed, the marks did what they always do; decline.  I got lazy again, missed due dates, and disappointed those around me.  But for some reason, whatever work I did hand in, or whatever test or assignment that we did in class, the marks were, well, brilliant.  Looking at one of my progess reports after the Christmas break, my average was 66%.  But, if you took away the missed assignments (which count as zeros), my average spiked to an 82%.

Me (left) and Robin Williams having an intimate moment.  I'm not sure why, but the beard seemed to indicate that he wanted to fuck me

How the hell was this possible?  Am I a "Beautiful Mind" or "Good Will Hunting"?

No, I'm just a lazy motherfucker who could be more successful if he got off his ass. The thing was though, as unique a situation that I felt I was in, there are a thousand, if not millions of kids, who are in the same boat as me.  Kids who are smart, book and street, who have more than enough common sense to get by, unquestionably smart to see the good and the bad in the world, yet, for some strange reason, just don't care enough.

And maybe I don't.  Maybe I am too lazy and careless to understand that I'm wasting away.  Maybe I just don't get it.  I'm 18 years old, I don't have a job, I'm overweight, I don't have a girl, let alone any prospects, and I find solace in life through multiple sport teams that I have no real connection with, in addition to living vicariously through my six year old brother and four year old sister, cheering them on as they grow up so fast, hoping they work harder than I ever did.

Jesus, that got pretty down, pretty fast.

But that's the truth.  And until that figurative alarm clock rings in my mind, I still won't get it.  It is not my parents fault, nor my educators, nor anyone's for that matter.  Only mine, and mine alone.

So, as these exams pass and go, and I see how hard I really can work, I see how successful I can be.  

The question becomes: How bad do you want it? 


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