It began...

So I've put the first full week of classes behind me, I've procured and perused all pertinent syllabi and I've made friends is all of my classes, not.

I don't talk to people.

Ever since my early teens I have had a physical aversion to chatter, small-talk, chit-chat, and the like. It sets me on edge to hear the nervous tone in the voice of the person two chairs over as they put their insecurity into words by uttering that first little self-deprecating comment to the person next to them in an attempt to "break the ice." Whatever euphemism you want to inject into the situation you will find that there is some obstacle to be overcome by being the first to speak to those around you. I'm not interested in debating the origin of the urge, it's prevalent and that's enough. I am interested, however, in discussing the widely held but rarely acknowledged belief that to sit in silence with strangers around you is in some way rude.

I could very well be saving you months of awkwardness by recommending that you do not strike up a conversation with that seemingly harmless person to your left. She/he could easily be the most insipid person you've ever met but, by setting that ball rolling, you've identified yourself as a blank canvas for their prosaic, rambling, paintbrush.

Could be that you find yourself a friend, could be that you find yourself with nowhere to run when Mr. or Mrs. close-talker, mouth-breather, or spit-spitter just wants a good chat.

Your call.

It all begins...

So, tomorrow is the day I start classes at the University of Manitoba. In preparation, I took a bus over to the campus today to grab some books and scope out the buildings in which I will be expanding my knowledge of wildly important topics like Statistics and Nutrition. Joy of all joys.

As a side note, I noticed today that among all the human pandemonium that is orientation week at any given university, there was a distinct lack of one group of individuals: Parents.

In past experience with a training institute I had the dubious honour in dealing with the parents of students who usually meant well but more often hindered their child's chances at independence, social success, and ever getting further than arm's length from mom's teet. These parents are the ones who walk into any given admissions office and state proudly, "My (son/daughter) wants to be a ________" Really? they won't give you the time of day from the screen of their iPod (which you bought them) but they confided in you their life's career goals? Now, you may disagree with my interpretation of what actions are obtrusive and which are not based on your personal experiences but I believe it's beyond discussion when parents are doing all the legwork for their child.

The basis of the problem is simple, how will your child know independent thought if you won't let them experience it? Also, how many people do you know that are grateful for their parents' actions? "I was, like, sooooooo happy that my mom called my boss and told them I was sick this morning because, like, if I had to actually work on Monday mornings, how the hell could I party?" I am underwhelmed by the sentiment.

Pros and cons people, pros and cons.