(no subject)
Another day at university has come and gone with me wondering what the hell I signed up for in the first place. I have come to the long-overdue conclusion that I was enrolled in the wrong course for what I want to do anyway, and switching over to something that focuses more on technical things would maybe recover my seriously dwindled morale. So I have been trying to talk to one counsellor about this for a couple of weeks, saying that basically, I do not want to do the Interdisciplinary course anymore and that I am exceptionally fukked off with the university that the rigmorale of trying to enter any other course in my list made it the only real option at the time. Subjects like Strategic Speech Communication, or How To Talk Like A Normie Asshole 101 as I like to call it, are not just completely useless for what I want to do in life, some of the content I found in the course materials is utterly offensive to me as an autistic adult. I have tried to explain this to one disability service officer who has been patronising and insulting as a result, and now I have told another that I will leave if I cannot get into this other course and wash my hands of How Normie Cunts Talk.
So I get an email through the week telling me how my entry level things are so low and such, basically in complete contradiction to what I had been told late last year. And now I apparently have to get a super-high mark in this subject I am doing now or I will not even be considered for switching over. Gee, thanks... care to give me any other indications that you consider the place to have a Normies-Only policy? Anyway, I am going to have to ask everyone about what else I can do to make the people who decide this crap understand that by putting me in a course that requires me to do pretty speeches and such, they are basically making completion a total non-option for me. Because talking to the people in the equity department has not accomplished a thing so far. In fact, my hostility towards one person in particular within the equity department has reached a point where I am simply unable to even talk to them. Anyway, I am just going to have to try and make the biggest noise I can, and hope for the best. And to think I was actually feeling hopeful when this discussion I had with another counsellor from the equity department about switching courses started.
Last Friday was a mix of surprise and frustration, not least because whilst a certain person did show up this week and I got to have a bit of conversation with her, there simply was not a chance to steer the conversation in directions I would have liked to go. Not that I would expect a terribly positive response if I did, but I would rather be able to say that I tried than simply sit there and do nothing. Anyway, the funny part was that different people showed up at different times of the day. I was the first to arrive, about ten or twenty minutes early as always. The person I actually want to work with arrived about ten minutes after the lecture was due to commence. She actually experienced some problems with transport, and that was why she was late, so I can understand that. The third person to arrive arrived about half an hour after the lecture actually started. But the kicker was the fourth person, who arrived twenty minutes before the tutorial was concluding (each class basically consists of a two hour lecture followed by a one hour tutorial). His excuse was that he woke up too late or something along those lines. Understandably, the lecturers are not very amused with this group.
In fact, the discontent has started to surface in the group itself, too. The redhead has also started to voice how the sporadic attendance is not fair to anyone in the group, whether they are attending or not. It certainly is not fair to me since I need to do my absolute best in the subject to have any chance of getting to where I actually need or think I need to be. I think I have told the group previously that nobody really listens to me, even though they should, anyway. So I am starting to wonder exactly what I should be doing at this point. Quite frankly, I am incredibly pissed off that I had to get accepted into a (inappropriate, let us not forget) university course just to get to move to an area where the promised resources I seriously need have proven to be withheld anyway. I have told people that being an autistic adult in what I like to call Cuntborough is basically the same as being an unperson, or dead. Well, it seems that autistic adults are unpeople in Brisbane, too. But then, what can you expect from a state that explicitly advertises itself as a haven for filthy sunlovers? But yeah, I think some of the discontent I feel in class lately has started to spill over, which might actually prompt someone to act.
So, yeah, aside from this lot of ranting that I really do not want one subject concerned in particular to see, I am basically just sitting around and waiting for it to all come to a sudden end. So I went into the local shopping centre (this being the day before Father's Day, it was a fukking madhouse) and determined to buy something that was a) cheap and b) useful to me in some fashion. The image further up in this entry is basically what I bought. It is a Category 6 ethernet cable, of about ten metres (or 32.7439 (and a lot of other numbers) feet) in length. I bought this cable of ridiculous length because I needed to be able to plug the Blu-ray Disc player into the network in the hope of updating its firmware. Fortunately, with a couple of creative twists and bends, the cable reached out the bedroom door, around the corner, into the lounge, and behind the TV stand where I could plug it into the back of the player. After going through the menu and selecting a few options to update the network settings and such, I updated the player's firmware and then promptly disconnected the cable. That drama finished, hopefully I will not need to connect the player to the network again until some other disc is released that exhibits the author's need for technowankery at the expense of playability.
Thus concludes another article about the life I do not want to live anymore. In closing, I shall leave you with the following words of wisdom: This planet desperately needs to have at least four billion less people on it.
So I get an email through the week telling me how my entry level things are so low and such, basically in complete contradiction to what I had been told late last year. And now I apparently have to get a super-high mark in this subject I am doing now or I will not even be considered for switching over. Gee, thanks... care to give me any other indications that you consider the place to have a Normies-Only policy? Anyway, I am going to have to ask everyone about what else I can do to make the people who decide this crap understand that by putting me in a course that requires me to do pretty speeches and such, they are basically making completion a total non-option for me. Because talking to the people in the equity department has not accomplished a thing so far. In fact, my hostility towards one person in particular within the equity department has reached a point where I am simply unable to even talk to them. Anyway, I am just going to have to try and make the biggest noise I can, and hope for the best. And to think I was actually feeling hopeful when this discussion I had with another counsellor from the equity department about switching courses started.
Last Friday was a mix of surprise and frustration, not least because whilst a certain person did show up this week and I got to have a bit of conversation with her, there simply was not a chance to steer the conversation in directions I would have liked to go. Not that I would expect a terribly positive response if I did, but I would rather be able to say that I tried than simply sit there and do nothing. Anyway, the funny part was that different people showed up at different times of the day. I was the first to arrive, about ten or twenty minutes early as always. The person I actually want to work with arrived about ten minutes after the lecture was due to commence. She actually experienced some problems with transport, and that was why she was late, so I can understand that. The third person to arrive arrived about half an hour after the lecture actually started. But the kicker was the fourth person, who arrived twenty minutes before the tutorial was concluding (each class basically consists of a two hour lecture followed by a one hour tutorial). His excuse was that he woke up too late or something along those lines. Understandably, the lecturers are not very amused with this group.
In fact, the discontent has started to surface in the group itself, too. The redhead has also started to voice how the sporadic attendance is not fair to anyone in the group, whether they are attending or not. It certainly is not fair to me since I need to do my absolute best in the subject to have any chance of getting to where I actually need or think I need to be. I think I have told the group previously that nobody really listens to me, even though they should, anyway. So I am starting to wonder exactly what I should be doing at this point. Quite frankly, I am incredibly pissed off that I had to get accepted into a (inappropriate, let us not forget) university course just to get to move to an area where the promised resources I seriously need have proven to be withheld anyway. I have told people that being an autistic adult in what I like to call Cuntborough is basically the same as being an unperson, or dead. Well, it seems that autistic adults are unpeople in Brisbane, too. But then, what can you expect from a state that explicitly advertises itself as a haven for filthy sunlovers? But yeah, I think some of the discontent I feel in class lately has started to spill over, which might actually prompt someone to act.
So, yeah, aside from this lot of ranting that I really do not want one subject concerned in particular to see, I am basically just sitting around and waiting for it to all come to a sudden end. So I went into the local shopping centre (this being the day before Father's Day, it was a fukking madhouse) and determined to buy something that was a) cheap and b) useful to me in some fashion. The image further up in this entry is basically what I bought. It is a Category 6 ethernet cable, of about ten metres (or 32.7439 (and a lot of other numbers) feet) in length. I bought this cable of ridiculous length because I needed to be able to plug the Blu-ray Disc player into the network in the hope of updating its firmware. Fortunately, with a couple of creative twists and bends, the cable reached out the bedroom door, around the corner, into the lounge, and behind the TV stand where I could plug it into the back of the player. After going through the menu and selecting a few options to update the network settings and such, I updated the player's firmware and then promptly disconnected the cable. That drama finished, hopefully I will not need to connect the player to the network again until some other disc is released that exhibits the author's need for technowankery at the expense of playability.
Thus concludes another article about the life I do not want to live anymore. In closing, I shall leave you with the following words of wisdom: This planet desperately needs to have at least four billion less people on it.