If you’re having a bad day, read this. Or just read it. What the hell.

Dan you pimp.  If you didn’t turn me on so much, I could take offense.  Or something.  Yeah.

Smooches.

Ha. Bet you guys thought the “Rembrandt” post was going to be the last one, huh?

You were almost right.

I’m working like a freaking lunatic but if I get the promotion, the extra money will nearly make it worth it.

Nearly.

Damn work for cutting into my Harry Potter fanfiction time um…sleep. Yeah.

According to the package, in two hours or less, I will have a brighter smile. In retrospect, I realize that it says nothing about a whiter smile. So technically, I may come out of this with yellow, glow-in-the-dark teeth.

I should have gone for the tried and true (at least for a friend) route of Crest Whitening Strips. However, I was sold on the idea of submitting myself to the indignity of a drooly mouth for only two hours rather than the seven to fourteen days of the more traditional strips.

The kit includes three syringes of clear minty goo, two rubbery teeth trays for the goo to go in, and an instruction book saying how much goo you should use and for how long. In this case, how long is four twenty minute sessions with ten minute breaks in between, so, I supposed, for you to empty all the saliva in your mouth. Rembrandt does not encourage swallowing when using this product unless you want to experience side effects, much like my encounters with 7-11 hamburgers.

The first time around, I used too much. Big mistake. My gums felt like they were slowly dissolving in some kind of low-grade acid, even though the booklet clearly states the goo contains no acid. Tell that to my screaming gums, you bastards.

I’m on my second dose now, which burns less, although my gums now bear one or two disturbing white splotches. The booklet claims that these will vanish in a few hours, but with my luck they will the be the only thing the goo works on because I sure as hell couldn’t see any obvious whitening on my teeth.

Updates will follow, and we will find out if this minty burning crap is worth the twenty bucks I paid for it.

I didn’t want to post on this until I was absolutely sure. But grades came in today, and I now feel comfortable saying–I’VE GRADUATED!

Heh, there was one terrible class that I needed in order to grad, and I was seriously worried about passing it. The prof would ramble on about stuff that happened to him instead of teaching the goddamn material. It got to the point where I would sit in class, wondering if I really need to take notes on playing bridge with his pals. It didn’t help to ask him questions to keep him on track. He would turn every question into an imagined philosophical debate which no one understood except for himself.

Thank goodness for the TA. He taught on Fridays, and would go over the homework until everyone got it. In my eyes, he receives all the credit for us understanding what we did of the material. Which wasn’t a whole lot, granted, but considering what I learned in the prof’s lecture (nada), it was something.

It could of been just me who sucked at this. But consider the curve: On my first midterm, I scored 68, and still got a B+. The second midterm was worse, and I scored a 55. And still got a B. What is this telling you people?!

In this class, we had homework due twice a week, two midterms and a final. The homework was 30% of the grade, and you would only receive credit for it if it was absolutely correct. No partial credit for getting the formula right or whatever. Out of that, I got about half of them right. The midterms were 20% each. B and B+, not bad, thank you curve. The final was worth 30%, and the prof made it clear that you had to pass this in order to pass the class. It was horrible–I studied until my brain began to leak clear fluid from my nose (that could have just been a cold) and still didn’t understand the concepts.

I think it’s rather sad when you pray that everyone else is having as hard a time as you, just so that the curve remains intact.

My prayers were answered.

Final grade for the course: B+. And here I was chanting my new mantra, “please let me pass so that graduation ceremony I went to wouldn’t be a sham, give me a ‘D,’ I don’t care, just let me pass, please please please” and so on.

Dad has the theory that the prof sneaked a peek at the class evaluation forms, and realized that if he failed everyone then it would confirm everything bad written about him. He needed that raise, and he was going to get it.

Personally, I think that the curve must have given everyone A pluses for the last test, and that jacked up the final score.

The things I took from this semester:

The curve is your friend

and

I graduated! Whoo!