I am eating tinned peaches. I used to be told when I was going to eat tinned peaches, but now I can eat them whenever I like because I am an independent young man. I am living with four other independent young men, all of whom took gap years of their own. They are all pretty good lads. This one guy likes climbing, and this other guy likes war games and other stuff.
I thought freshers would week would be super lame and stupid. I gathered from other people's experiences that it was basically just a festival of intoxication, where school children revel in their new found independence, embracing all of its freedoms and few of its responsibilities. It seemed that there were two possibilities on fresher's week: waking up with no recollection of where you had been the previous evening, or waking up with a firm recollection of locking yourself in your room the night before. Whilst that may be the case for some universities, my experience in Sheffield has left me feeling that such concerns were needless and uninformed. Let me tell you all about the fun I've been having, because that is why you are here.
A couple of nights ago was the fresher's frat party. I found out that 'frat' is short for 'fraternity', which is basically some mega-silly American idea. It cost a whole fiver, which was a worryingly high percentage of my finances at the time. I decided no to go, and instead went to a Jazz Night at The Interlude bar/cafe with my flatmate John. We acted super classy and clapped all the jazz. John thought it was funny that I didn't want to talk to girls, I thought it was funny that he didn't want to dance with them. There's a right way of dancing to jazz, and I don't know it. All swingy like. Still, I was up on the floor doing jazz hands, because they are from jazz.
The internet in my accommodation is wired, so I can't play my top jamz when I'm hotting things up in the kitchen. Speaking of top jamz, I met a guy today at the CU picnic who calls himself Dave the Rave and loves Shai Linne. That is funny because David Glover matches that description, but this guy was a different guy from David Glover. He complimented my hat, we started talking and within twenty minutes or so we were on the ground, confusing onlookers as we engaged in a finger joust (they have a website, apparently), which I won. Everybody had already seen me rescue a Frisbee from the roof of the bandstand, so now they all know I'm super cool and you shouldn't mess with you. I also met a Christian guy who's on my course. I'd been praying that I meet some Christian friends, and now they're basically falling out of my ears. Tha's what happens.
The whole independent study thing is treating me well. I didn't actually get the grades I need for my course, and I'm finding my position of academic underdog pretty motivating. Also the fact that I don't want to be wasting nine grand and then some a year. Talkin' bout calender's on my wall, calendars on the internet, online to do lists, and bare other organisational tricks. I'm going to study hard and win my course, so y'all better watch out.
Today's lesson was robots. I'm studying Robotic and Mechatronic engineering, so nearly all of the lessons are robots. We were making LEGO mindstorm guys compete in an obstacle course. There was a point during the session when our contestant seemed pretty adequately equipped with an impressive algorithmic repertoire. Little dude was following lines, turning at walls and picking up balls, and I felt like I had played a significant role in the whole development process. Trouble is, we spend the whole time optimising things while we were still programming, and some of the optimisations weren't so optimal. It was looking doubtful, but then a few flustered tweaks on my part in the last thirty seconds plunged the situation into downright dire. Our robot went forward in half centimetre jolts for about ten seconds, before devoting itself entirely to to doing backwards doughnuts with all the pointless resolve that a machine can muster. The antics of about eighty percent of the other participants were similar to that of our own, but it was still a little gutting that nobody got to see anything that we'd achieved. If anything was gained from the experience, it is that I have learnt the truth of that timeless engineering aphorism: 'If it ain't broke, don't fix it.'
I'm having lots of fun. Thanks for choosing to spend some of your time reading this consequenceless claptrap. General Norman and the boys will play you out.
I thought freshers would week would be super lame and stupid. I gathered from other people's experiences that it was basically just a festival of intoxication, where school children revel in their new found independence, embracing all of its freedoms and few of its responsibilities. It seemed that there were two possibilities on fresher's week: waking up with no recollection of where you had been the previous evening, or waking up with a firm recollection of locking yourself in your room the night before. Whilst that may be the case for some universities, my experience in Sheffield has left me feeling that such concerns were needless and uninformed. Let me tell you all about the fun I've been having, because that is why you are here.
A couple of nights ago was the fresher's frat party. I found out that 'frat' is short for 'fraternity', which is basically some mega-silly American idea. It cost a whole fiver, which was a worryingly high percentage of my finances at the time. I decided no to go, and instead went to a Jazz Night at The Interlude bar/cafe with my flatmate John. We acted super classy and clapped all the jazz. John thought it was funny that I didn't want to talk to girls, I thought it was funny that he didn't want to dance with them. There's a right way of dancing to jazz, and I don't know it. All swingy like. Still, I was up on the floor doing jazz hands, because they are from jazz.
The internet in my accommodation is wired, so I can't play my top jamz when I'm hotting things up in the kitchen. Speaking of top jamz, I met a guy today at the CU picnic who calls himself Dave the Rave and loves Shai Linne. That is funny because David Glover matches that description, but this guy was a different guy from David Glover. He complimented my hat, we started talking and within twenty minutes or so we were on the ground, confusing onlookers as we engaged in a finger joust (they have a website, apparently), which I won. Everybody had already seen me rescue a Frisbee from the roof of the bandstand, so now they all know I'm super cool and you shouldn't mess with you. I also met a Christian guy who's on my course. I'd been praying that I meet some Christian friends, and now they're basically falling out of my ears. Tha's what happens.
The whole independent study thing is treating me well. I didn't actually get the grades I need for my course, and I'm finding my position of academic underdog pretty motivating. Also the fact that I don't want to be wasting nine grand and then some a year. Talkin' bout calender's on my wall, calendars on the internet, online to do lists, and bare other organisational tricks. I'm going to study hard and win my course, so y'all better watch out.
Today's lesson was robots. I'm studying Robotic and Mechatronic engineering, so nearly all of the lessons are robots. We were making LEGO mindstorm guys compete in an obstacle course. There was a point during the session when our contestant seemed pretty adequately equipped with an impressive algorithmic repertoire. Little dude was following lines, turning at walls and picking up balls, and I felt like I had played a significant role in the whole development process. Trouble is, we spend the whole time optimising things while we were still programming, and some of the optimisations weren't so optimal. It was looking doubtful, but then a few flustered tweaks on my part in the last thirty seconds plunged the situation into downright dire. Our robot went forward in half centimetre jolts for about ten seconds, before devoting itself entirely to to doing backwards doughnuts with all the pointless resolve that a machine can muster. The antics of about eighty percent of the other participants were similar to that of our own, but it was still a little gutting that nobody got to see anything that we'd achieved. If anything was gained from the experience, it is that I have learnt the truth of that timeless engineering aphorism: 'If it ain't broke, don't fix it.'
I'm having lots of fun. Thanks for choosing to spend some of your time reading this consequenceless claptrap. General Norman and the boys will play you out.
