The Decathlon is tomorrow. . .
Feb. 1st, 2002 06:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
occultatioThat's the Academic Decathlon. After all these months of preparation, of planning, recruiting, and studying. . .
To be perfectly honest, I'm lying through my teeth (now there's a paradox). This year has been so ridiculously unorganized, that to pretend otherwise ranks right up there with heresy. Last night, we were supposed to have a study session. We were going to review statistics. Had we taken minutes, they would have looked something like:
7:00-7:15 - people arrive. General chit-chat.
7:15-7:30 - Simon semi-tries to get us to go over the Math test. Nora semi-encourages us, too.
7:30-7:45 - We play Extreme Bop-It. At one point, Nora, Mike, and I team up to play co-op Bop-It. We get a high score of 73, with each of us being responsible for one action. This success is followed by several minutes of celebration and hand-slapping. Only a couple of the attempted high-fives are total whiffs.
7:45-8:00 - I discover Nora's guitar and begin playing "Closer to Fine." Nobody can hear me, however, as Nora and Simon are playing a command performance of "Rockin Robin" on the piano.
8:00-8:30 - Samee insists that [some weird name] is a country in Africa. I insist that it isn't. We troop into Nora's den, where one entire wall is covered with a gigantic world map. The issue of the not-an-actual-African-country is quickly resolved, and we progress into finding more weird place names. The winner is the "Kermit Roosevelt Seamount," an underwater mountain range several hundred miles west of Mendocino. I quickly name this my Phrase of the Millenium.
8:30-9:00 - Back in the living room, we tell science and math jokes, and Nora teaches us this cool rhythm you can beat out with cups and a table.
Yeah. So, our slogan for AcaDeca this year is "We Like Shiny Things." This is written on our T-shirts. On the back of our shirts, we each have a nickname, like "Ralph" or "Not Steve" or "Steve, by process of elimination". I named myself "Marvin," after the superintelligent, terminally-depressed robot from HG2G. So, when we wore our shirts today, what comment did I hear most often?
"Oh, are you, like, Marvin the Martian?"
Grrr.
I should probably be studying right now, but it's so much more fun to update my journal. Ah, well. Better wrap this up.
Wish me luck tomorrow.
To be perfectly honest, I'm lying through my teeth (now there's a paradox). This year has been so ridiculously unorganized, that to pretend otherwise ranks right up there with heresy. Last night, we were supposed to have a study session. We were going to review statistics. Had we taken minutes, they would have looked something like:
7:00-7:15 - people arrive. General chit-chat.
7:15-7:30 - Simon semi-tries to get us to go over the Math test. Nora semi-encourages us, too.
7:30-7:45 - We play Extreme Bop-It. At one point, Nora, Mike, and I team up to play co-op Bop-It. We get a high score of 73, with each of us being responsible for one action. This success is followed by several minutes of celebration and hand-slapping. Only a couple of the attempted high-fives are total whiffs.
7:45-8:00 - I discover Nora's guitar and begin playing "Closer to Fine." Nobody can hear me, however, as Nora and Simon are playing a command performance of "Rockin Robin" on the piano.
8:00-8:30 - Samee insists that [some weird name] is a country in Africa. I insist that it isn't. We troop into Nora's den, where one entire wall is covered with a gigantic world map. The issue of the not-an-actual-African-country is quickly resolved, and we progress into finding more weird place names. The winner is the "Kermit Roosevelt Seamount," an underwater mountain range several hundred miles west of Mendocino. I quickly name this my Phrase of the Millenium.
8:30-9:00 - Back in the living room, we tell science and math jokes, and Nora teaches us this cool rhythm you can beat out with cups and a table.
Yeah. So, our slogan for AcaDeca this year is "We Like Shiny Things." This is written on our T-shirts. On the back of our shirts, we each have a nickname, like "Ralph" or "Not Steve" or "Steve, by process of elimination". I named myself "Marvin," after the superintelligent, terminally-depressed robot from HG2G. So, when we wore our shirts today, what comment did I hear most often?
"Oh, are you, like, Marvin the Martian?"
Grrr.
I should probably be studying right now, but it's so much more fun to update my journal. Ah, well. Better wrap this up.
Wish me luck tomorrow.
