These past few weeks have been rather depressing. It feels like all the bad luck I’ve been accumulating since birth just exploded in my face. It all started with me losing my bag at Clifton. On the one hand, I should have been more careful; on the other hand I feel like I shouldn’t /have/ to be more careful. My absent-mindedness does not entitle people to exercise their kleptomaniac tendencies and the fact that it is such a common occurrence highlights one of the biggest drawbacks of living in an otherwise beautiful city.
Replacing all my keys was a bit of a bother. Luckily I managed to get everything sorted with the help of my friends :) I was a bit wary of blogging about losing my car keys because my overly-paranoid mind kept on thinking “What if the person was trolling the internet looking for someone who’d lost her keys at Moonstruck”? Dun dun dunn.
Soon after losing my keys, my glasses broke (due to a fault that’s not entirely my own). I spent ages looking for new frames on Saturday and couldn’t find any to my liking. The problem with Asian faces is that our noses are too flat to support the frames, so I always end up in one of two situations: 1) They sit so far down my nose that I look like a granny 2) They’re so close to my eyes that my eyelashes brush against the lenses. Sigh. I attempted to superglue the frames together but I have a sneaky suspicion that the lens is too big for the frame.
Last night, I thought I’d be a good domesticated girl and finish my ironing… and it ended up a rather holey experience. I don’t know how it happened, really. I was paying attention but alas, ironing (and house chores in general) is simply not my métier. I then spent a good quarter of an hour scraping the melted material off my iron -while it was still plugged in-. Probably not the best course of action… I blame Andy Pandy for the ill advice.
When interviewers ask me why I chose UCT as my tertiary institution of choice, my standard answer is always “Because it is the best university in Africa.” After all, it is the only university in Africa to make it to the top 200 of the World University Rankings. But what does it actually mean? Was it a true reflection on the standard of education or was the score more biased towards research than student enrichment?
Having been at UCT for almost three years, I can safely say my undergraduate experience has not been rainbows, butterflies and unicorn poop. In fact, my journey (thus far) has been plagued by incompetent lecturers (who were really students with a distinct lack of communication skills) and sub-par course secretaries who could do with some additional computer training (to be evidenced below).
As part of the department’s competency framework, we are required to complete course evaluations for our subjects. Every course uses the same template, so it really boggles my mind when something like this happens:
Of course, at this point, I realise everyone is probably urging me to use my common sense. First radio button means ‘Yes’, second means ‘No’. Except, when I hovered my cursor over the first radio button, a “No” box popped up; when I hovered over the second radio button – nothing. I suppose credit must be given for the fact that they actually bothered conducting these evaluations. Nothing permeates the message ‘We Care About Our Students’ as well as misaligned columns.
By now, you must be wondering what ‘Famous Cracks’ is doing in the title… I’m getting there – and no, it has nothing to do with fat people’s butt-cracks (contrary to what Google search might tell you). One of the management accounting lecturers emailed us with a nice real-life example (sort of) to a question we did on Risk and Uncertainty. I won’t bore you with the details, but the gist of the question dealt with concrete floors and their susceptibility to crackings under aging and improper packing.
And so, his email contained pictures of a famous crack in a concrete floor. The question was to find out where this building is, why is the crack famous, and how it was made. I got the answer after a couple of Google searches — Do you know what this famous crack is?
Throughout my 19 years, 11 months and 5 days of existence, I have always taken certain privileges for granted. Not having to cook is one of them. Today, in an earnest attempt to break away from my dependence on others, I decided to try making some popcorn – I have seen it done a couple of times. How hard could it possibly be?
I turned on the stove and watched 2 spoonfuls of butter melt into a yellow pool of grease. Next, I opened a packet of Pick n Pay No-name Popcorn. But in my haste, nearly half a packet of mealies went in the pot before I could regain control, while another couple of handfuls fell to the floor. I did not expect such slipperiness from a bunch of corn-crusted seedlings. How dare they create such a cumbersome mess for me to clean up?!?!!
Never mind. There was no use crying over spilt milk, or so the saying goes. My spirits rose a little when I heard the first ‘pop’, but it soon took a dive when a burning smell ensued. The fluffy white miniature puffs suddenly went FUBAR (f—–d up beyond all recognition).
After some thorough investigation, I came up with a couple of causes pertaining to the popcorn disaster.
- The stove was on maximum temperature. (In my defence, I have never even used that thing. Ignorance gets the blame here.)
- Too little butter and too much corn. (I need to work on the golden ratio a bit more, but guesstimating 0.618 isn’t easy I tell ya!)
Needless to say, my attempt at domestication failed, but hopefully everything will run smoother next time.