Calling home was probably the worst decision on a Friday night, or I guess it's just my decision to talk about returning to grad school.
Relates to a recent article I read on Wall Street Journal.
That's right. It's the sound a Donkey makes. A name which lived through uni to an indefinite time.
Calling home was probably the worst decision on a Friday night, or I guess it's just my decision to talk about returning to grad school.
Relates to a recent article I read on Wall Street Journal.
How does it feel sitting for a test after ages of not doing one? Sort of dreadful: the same old routine all over again. Ensuring you did sufficient preparation and the anxiety if you pass or fail since this time around the stakes are higher too.
Classes can be pretty dreadful too, with long 8-5 hours and the presence of some obnoxious people adds to the bane. This is also the first time in my life I’m encountering a bona fide bimbo! She will shriek when she gets excited, talks with that irritating bimbo slang, bitchy, overconfident and guess what, she’s blonde. To do her just, as a saving grace she’s friendly.
Yet, I don’t know if a bimbo is worse, or someone who could just ramble on and on at the speed of light. Two of the combined: they really make a team. My ear drums are at their limits and I’m looking forward to a seat rotation.
Subject matter’s pretty interesting actually. Instructor’s pretty cool: a paunchy man who looks a little like Hitler, who is after all a little sadist. All in all, school’s still good whereby you still have the dominant control over your time.
Ultimately, do I miss uni? Honest answer: yes, but not the studying. The friends, the company, the crazy moments, the blitheness, and if uni was in a more urban area I think I’m really going to miss my student life greatly.
This is absolutely indispensable to cool your burning cheeks, and anywhere else you need cooling.
I’d now think extreme cold is more treacherous than the extreme heat, because this chunk of ice took much longer than I expected for the desert heat to melt down. Thus imagine what an iceberg could do.
It almost feels surreal to thread the desert and be out in the sweltering summer heat, or even to see a camel saunter by, and to top it up, a desert BBQ.
Education level here I believe is of higher standard. Most of the folks here hold a diploma or a higher diploma and they can well get a good paying job. Not to mention very good English command of the people here. There really is not difficult at all to make yourself understood.
Owh and have I mentioned about a joke cracked a fellow local Omani: as of now, there are 300 dicks and 1 pussy here on camp. Poor kitty cat.
Living in containers, despite well furnished and air conditioned for the first week is fine, but the subsequent weeks, I think I'm getting sick of it. Initial weeks in the desert are fun, too long I think I'll go bonkers. Nonetheless I know I will miss my stint here. It's after all the human nature to be contradicting, yeap, grass (sand) is always greener (finer/browner?) on the other side.