FREAKIN' CYBORGS

Still sneezing, sniffling and a bit sick. But you know what's shittier than my present health? The present weather. But, what are you gonna do? Summer, or whatever it was called, has officially passed us by and all that is feared is swiftly on it's way. COLDNESS. BITTER. BONE CHILLING. COLDNESS. It is, after all, almost October for Jesus H. Christ's sake. My brain knocking theory is: If it's cold, wear a jacket. If it rains, wear some boots, or don an umbrella. Or stay inside. Or catch minnows. If it's windy, hold your ground, and if it's sunny cover your eyes, or go to the beach or if you are Oriental - don an umbrella. And if you have a cold. Fight it. Like everyone else. You know, cough a lot, take too much cough syrup and don't get enough sleep. I've never shared the same virus with so many of my closest friends before. It's like a chicken pox party for Windsor's finest has been thirty somethings. Anyways, with all the wet and colder weather, bare arms, excess sweat, a naturally warm body temperature, and a penchant for exiting without proper attire...what did I think was going to happen? Anyways, not only am I sick and tired of being sick and tired, but I'm also sick and tired (not the good sic) of stupid kids. Not kids as in a fun loving five year old, but those 'kids' who spend their entire time (and their parent's $ or future unpayable debt) in a University of Windsor class on Facebook, chatting about Facebook, pointing at Facebook on the laptop monitor, or pointing and laughing at a picture on Facebook. You get the drift. I have spoken a few times about my dislike for the 'book, (lack of privacy, forced friendships, overall weirdness) but since I can stay away from those problems (by not creating an account, ceremoniously checking, then attaching and replying and pointing and laughing and...) - my new problem is that of which I can't stay away from. See, I'm a 29 year old undergraduate who like's to sit in the back of the class, because I feel as if I am in more control of my potential learning destiny. No, I just feel more comfortable and at ease - mentally, physically and emotionally, in the back. So yes, maybe it does in some way allow for the permeation of potentially poignant points of information that would other wise be impossibly pervasive, yet still poignant - points of information. Hmmm. Yeah, maybe. But, on the other hand, maybe I would be a better student if I could touch the teacher's underarm sweat, hear them organize and shape their thoughts based on validity and experience - or at least see what's written on the gosh dang board. (I can usually see the board, just sometimes I wish the professor would push down a little harder). "That's what she said." (Just a stupid 'The Office' related joke). Anyways, what I wanted to say was that I don't want to know what your boyfriend's upper back tribal tattoo looks like (because I can see your IM pic from behind you and, what you're both writing) or, that the Care Bears (your wallpaper) are your all-time most favourite childhood cartoon characters, (though there is a time and a place for Care Bears, the classroom is not one of them), or that all you wrote on your Word doc during the whole hour and a half was "Robinson Crusoe" (I'm glad you're using your laptop to take notes like you told your parents you would when you explained why you really needed it for school). Also, why did you leave with ten minutes left in class? Huh? I don't get it. Did the curriculum bore you? Can you not hear the teacher? Did your super cool, comfortable and padded swivel chair squeak every time you nudged, or laughed or looked or spoke too loudly. Yes, it did. Though I'm not the best at math, the numbers just don't match up. Lastly, if you were in class but not really there in the first place, why did you come, in the first place? Because there are plenty of other places to go other than class, when you don't want to be there - and you won't distract easily distracted people like myself or interrupt the teacher with your giggling. And pointing. And clicking. And pretending to type notes when you're just instant messaging garbage. Like how about the bar. There is one right here at the school. How convenient. They have beer. And many outlets. Catch a breeze at the river or a flick at the cinema. Lose some more 'not your money' at the casino or the mall or a fast food joint. Home being stupid. Home eating food. Home sleeping. Not in this classroom. Not four feet in front of me. How do I know of all these fantastical places to go besides studiously working towards a future? Because, I've been there. I've done that, but not how you've done that. I've been you, The 'Out of highschool and Dazed Dummy' - though without the laptop, rude interruptions, and obscenely too many tagged pics of me looking into a camera. Except, I graciously took only myself out. It was a top-secret-solo-mission-one-man-take-down-himself-operation, and I triumphantly succeeded. Leave me out of your 18 year old on-line life or just leave. The classroom that is and my attention elsewhere. Drop out or unplug. Stay home or stay off-line. Take notes or take a really long washroom break. Like an hour and twenty minutes. Either one will do just fine. Like this one guy said on the radio the other day, the guy with the forced, coarse and sleazy Brooklyn sounding, "I'm outta breath and gonna die" talk show host voice, he said that kids today look exactly the same as when he was a kid. Except that everyone of them has something hanging, attached or hooked up to their brains like a freakin' cyborg. Other than that he said, they look the same.