Some Kind of 7th Child Psycho...

I'm awake...unfortunately for him.

2006-12-30T16:39:00.000-08:00

So, apparently it's funny when your Dad wakes you up at 3:30 in the morning to go to school.
I don't think so. Not in my books.
I had gone to bed at 12:00 p.m on Wednesday night, and had expected to be woken up as usual at 6:30 by my Dad. See, the power had gone out the day before, and I don't know what happened, but my Dad had somehow reset his WRISTWATCH for three hours earlier. I don't even know what posessed him to do such a thing. Anyways, thinking it was time to get up, my Dad came groggily into my room, and said,"Time to get up for school." So, I did what I usually do. I looked at my clock, which said 6:30, and then I looked at my cellphone.
What?! 3:30...a.m.....is my Dad on crack?
Thinking it was just a glitch on my cellphone, I got out of bed, stood up, and stretched. Being it early morning, I don't really function all that well, so I sat back down on the bed, and fell into a trance, completely forgetting about getting dressed for school.
A couple minutes later, my Dad comes stumbling back into my room, laughing as hard as a 3:30 wake-up call would allow.
"AAAAAHHHAAAA....It's 3:30, not 6:30. Go back to bed. AHHHHHHAAAAAAHAHA..."
Needless to say, I was pissed off.
And the funny part is...he laughed. Like it was funny.

I'll get him back, I promise. I'm not kidding. I'm going to sneak into his room at 3:00 and set the clocks for 6:00...and he'll get up, not even thinking. But the tricky part will be setting his wristwatch.
I'm up for a challenge.

Duct Tape Ninjas

2006-11-25T18:42:00.000-08:00

Okay, if you have never played the game "Duct tape ninja", you should consider it. But I do suggest playing it at 4:00 in the morning in a huge building with endless halls and hidden rooms.
A friend invited me to an all-nighter at her church on friday, and told me that it would end at 8:00 the next morning. So, thinking that it could be kinda fun, I agreed to come, and invited some other friends, too.
After seeing a movie, we all decided to travel to Langley and go lasertagging. That was an experience and a half. I've only been lasertagging once in my life, and I was young at the time, so I really had no clue what I was doing. But now, it was really fun, because I ran around for a good 10 minutes in the first round, thinking I was shooting people, and not getting hit. I'm amazing!
Yeah. Sort of. Turns out that I had forgotten to activate my gun, and had wasted 10 minutes dogding around corners, acting all stealthy-cool for nothing. I'm a winner, eh. Then, I made it even better when I thought I was totally cool by running down a long hallway like some heroine from an action movie, only to get shot at by a stealthy looking short kid wearing camo gear. Weird. But that's not the best part...the best part was when he shot at me, so I pressed my back into the wall, hiding myself from view. When I was sure I could get away without being shot at, I ran for it. Unfortunately, I seemed to have forgotten that there was a solid wall behind me. That didn't work out too well for me, and resulted in much laughter from the other end of the hallway.
But don't blame it on me, I was tired. It was, after all 3:00 in the morning.
So, after packing 40 of us into the bus, we headed back to the church. Now, this isn't just ANY church. It is huge. I'm talking about twisted corridors, hidden rooms, elevators, closets, pews, couches, classrooms. Every hide-and-go-seek obsessed kids dream, and certainly ideal for playing a game I had never heard of called "Duct tape ninja". The pastor explained the general idea of the game: 7 Ninja's with duct tape run around trying to find the rest of us teenage hooligans. If we are found, the Ninja gets to duct tape ANY parts of our body to ANYTHING they want. The point is to make it impossible for us to break free.
After hiding in a closet and witnessing a crazy, deranged, duct tape happy girl catch an unsuspecting guy and tape him, all four limbs to a table, I decided to hide somewhere else. I didn't like the idea of getting duct taped to say, a toilet, or something worse.
But...with my great luck, that is EXACTLY what happened. Turns out a Ninja had been quietly waiting for me in the shadows of the santuary, and the moment I entered the room, slapped a hand over my mouth, twisted my arms behind my back, and dragged me screaming (or trying, anyway) to the washrooms.
Talk about sick. He must have really liked me, to have spent a good 20 minutes duct taping my legs to the porcelin bowl. After taping both of my arms and legs to the toilet, he ended off his masterpeice by slapping a good 5 layers of tape over my mouth, as if to make certain I wouldn't be found until the next day. And because he's even more understanding and generous, he closed the washroom stall door, shut off all the lights, and left to go wreak duct tape havoc on another unsuspecting all-nightee.
I feel like I really got to know myself in that 10 minutes I was freaking out, hearing things in the dark. There's something about getting duct taped to a flipping toilet that makes a girl feel real special, and I highly recommend it to everyone. Seriously. If you ever want a way of spicing up a boring friday night, all you need is an unsuspecting dumbass, sleeping pills, some duct tape, and a (somewhat clean) toilet. Guaranteed success.
Anyway, I ended up getting free, after a good 20 minutes. Then I decided I was done, and to go downstairs to spend the next 4 hours mumbling tiredly in front of the big screen and the sea of couches.
Never could an all-nighter be so much fun.

Germany needs him more.

2006-11-09T17:58:00.000-08:00

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

Well, it finally came. I had loathed this cursed day since the second week of starting school again, and now, it crept up on me today.
See, the problem with foreign exchange students is that their presence is completely pointless. What is the point of coming here, making best friends, and breaking our hearts by leaving again. What the hell?!
Seriously, why don't you stay in your homeland? That way, we would never have our hearts broken by you leaving on us. It hurts, it honestly does. It would be better for everyone (us and you), if we had never met. No hearts would have to be mended if they you stayed away in Germany, or Japan, or wherever.
Today, I had to endure the most painful thing since the schoolyear started. I had to say goodbye to my good friend Manuel. Three months was all he had in Canada before returning to Germany, to his family, to his home. At the beginning of his three months here, we introduced ourselves to each other almost immediately, and I knew instantaneously that we would become good friends. As soon as we met, he accepted me for who I am, and didn't care if I wasn't popular, or pretty or smart. I loved hanging out with this guy, he was so funny, and had such a great personality, the kind that sparkles and you can't get enough of it. He was high on life, and I loved that about him. Just a happy-go-lucky kinda guy, who loved to make friends. We even got together on the weekends, because he was just so much fun.

But today was the hardest thing ever. I'm only 16, and I've never had to really, truely say goodbye to someone, knowing I would probably never see them again. We had the same last class of the day together, and we all told him to come back one day. I waited in vain for his answer, and he said,"Well, eet eees expenseeev for a plane ride, but I will try, and I will come see you all!" I smiled so big, my jaw should be broken. You have no idea, I think I felt a crack in my mouth.
So, school ended, and I walked him to his locker. I didn't want to say goodbye. Not yet. So I waited.
Bad idea.
The next thing I heard was a mass of preppy girls coming (running) screaming down the hallway, and I literally almost lost a limb trying to maintain my place by his side. Everybody wanted to say goodbye, and give him that one last hug, or that one last kiss on the cheek. I just wanted him to stay. So after the hysteria faded away, it was my turn. Deep breath. Just do it. You'll miss him so much. Don't miss your chance, woman. Live.

So I attacked him. Actually, physically attacked him. I grabbed him, and gave him the biggest bearhug I have ever bequeathed in my life. I think I damn near killed the boy. But no matter, I got my last hug, and said goodbye. After that, I must have walked by him three more times in the hallway (because he was packing up his stuff still), and every time I walked by him, I said yet another goodbye.
I was in denial up until that point, but right then, I decided to just grow up for once, grit my teeth, and act my age. I had many goodbyes left inside me that were dying to be unleashed.
But I never saw him again after that.

I cried in the car on the way home, but I didn't want my Daddy to see, so I turned my face to the window and watched the silver beads of rain drip down the window. Oh, to be rain. To have no feelings, not have to worry about anything. Just to fall with other raindrops like you. Raindrops don't ever have to say goodbye. As it should be. But we all have to sooner or later.

In January, a few more good friends from Brasil will be the next to say goodbye. After that, it will be Ruben, who will go back to Germany. I would go back to Germany with him, but I doubt my parents would be ecstatic about that. They would probably chain me to the floor. I dread saying goodbye to Ruben. That will be hard the hardest of them all...but, with the grace of God..."This too shall pass."

Sweet 16

2006-09-13T21:00:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been another year on this planet for me, and I don't quite know how to sum it all up.
Lots of stuff has happened, extremely wonderful, and horribly bad. I guess I had an okay time being 15. Lots of drama, though. Gosh, I hate drama. Ugh. So instead of giving this big long speech about my somewhat uneventful year (but in some parts, too eventful). So instead of elaborating on the ups and downs of 15-hood, I'll instead elaborate on the things I'm going to do in 16-hood. Yay!

I've compiled a list of randomness that only my middle sister D would understand. And she promised she would read this tonight, so woe on her if she doesn't.

- dye armpit hair blue...perhaps pubes. Perhaps.
- dump sauce on an unsuspecting cow, and see if it stains.
- go carting through Wal-Mart, running over as many people as humanly possible.
- run around in my panties with middle sis D...while drinking Pina Colada and waxing bikini lines.
- dress up as Barney and stuff myself down a chimney, guffawing all the way down, "Ho Ho Ho".
- walk into school with a ghetto blaster and greet my teachers with a hearty, "Wu'sup, G-Dawg!"
- toilet paper my own house out of pure boredom.
- Listen to the entire Queen CD while dressing in drag.

...more to come. Stay tuned. And wish me a Happy 16th!

Advice, anyone?

2006-09-05T20:04:00.000-07:00

So I have a best friend who I have known for about 3 years now. He's a boy. (I bet you anything my sister D is going 'Ooooh...') We are two peas in a pod, and can tell each other anything, which really sucks sometimes, believe me. But we're cool like that, because we know basically know everything there is to know about each other. We fight a lot over stupid things, and I've smacked him a fair few times. There's even been an entire week where I had to endure him continuously running after me in the hallway at school because I was mad at him, and refused to speak to him ever again. That lasted for a whole 4 minutes after he 'accidently' tripped me and sat on me, refusing to get up until I talked to him. I was going to be late, so I gave in, and started laughing, and he helped me up.
After that, we were closer than ever, and never failed at making each other laugh.

...So what to do when he sends me this:

You're my angel,
Watching over me,
Taking care of me
And always making me feel loved
Little things touch me the most
You're the feather caught by a draft
You're always here, but sometimes
never seen.

Your thoughts make me smile
You're more than I can handle
I love you for what you are
And I couldn't ask for more.

Kayln, I love thee.

All I have to say is: Oh man. What do I do? Ruin a friendship or be with someone I love very much...because any day could be your last.

Have a nice trip, see you next fall...

2006-08-17T17:38:00.000-07:00

I love those moments that are perfectly peaceful. The moments full of bliss, that should never be interrupted.
Well, maybe it wasn't that peaceful, but it sure scared the crap out of me when that "peace" was disturbed. :)

I had just settled down to watch Tim Burton's the Corpse Bride downstairs in the T.V room on a hot night, after my brother Kody had gotten home from work. After saying "Hello" to me as he passed by the T.V room, he hurried upstairs to go change out of his work clothes.
Since, he usually comes back downstairs to talk to me, I just kept watching the movie, waiting for him to come back down.

A couple minutes later, I could hear him walking across the upstairs hallway, and heard his foot land with a heavy thud on the top landing. I paused the movie, and waited for him to run down the stairs.

My guess is that he made it probably halfway down before his sock slipped on the stairs. BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM...etc.
For about 5 seconds, all I heard from the staircase was "Oomph.." "Yuh!" and a sudden thumping from my parents bedroom.
My mother had practically launched herself across the room upstairs in an attempt to save my brother who was already at the bottom of the staircase in a heap, laughing hysterically.

I jumped off the couch somewhere amidst all the kafuffle, and ran up to my brother who was still sitting on the floor laughing.

"Are you alright, buddy?"
"AH HAAAAAAHAAHAHAAA!.....HAAAHA!"
"Okay, I'll take that as a 'yes', then."
"Ahhhhhaaaahahaha...oh man...oh haha.."

After establishing that my 18-year-old brother was okay, I invited him to watch the movie with me, and we had many laughters over this incident that night.
The end.

All the books we read...by looking at their covers...

2006-08-07T20:21:00.000-07:00

Yesterday it hit me. It wasn't even some utopian moment of realization, but it was enough to make me think.
Yesterday, I met someone special, a new friend. Someone whose smile is more beautiful than the sunrise, and unknowingly radiates all the sorrow of the saddest song in the world. Eyes that transfix with one glance, and a personality that sparkles like a bubbly champagne.

Imagine, all of this and more...minus one thing.

An arm.

Yesterday, I met a most exceptional young man a couple years older than me, who lost his arm in a farming accident. I met him, and his personality is what locked me in.
So, after being introduced somewhat informally, we began talking, and soon after discovered that even though we were different in body, we are the same at heart. Try as he may, he couldn't fool me. Behind the 'good times' stories, the tears of laughter, and the elicit smiling, I saw something I doubt anybody else bothered to see. I saw pain.

The pain of being unable to dance with a girl without having to be embarrassed. The pain of being mocked by both genders for being something of a less being, all because he had something of a less body.
Sad though it is, something as seemingly simple as dancing, he would be ashamed of because he lacks the 'basic neccesities', like the prerequisite of two arms. I realized that there are more important things in life than the current fashions, who is divorcing who in Hollywood, and whether or not my butt looks big in those pants. There are more important things.
I have one brilliant, selfless young man to thank for an eye-opening dose of reality (or something like it.)

I think I might phone him up right now and see if he wants to go dancing this week. Him having one arm is probably the same as me having two left feet.
It could work.

Fire Extinguisher Fun...

2006-08-03T23:05:00.000-07:00

You know when you get those feelings sometimes when you wanna do something really bad, but you just know it's gonna go wrong? Yup. It was dumb. But it was soooo funny.

Summerschool always consists of one 10-minute break every day, usually about an hour and a half into class. During my 10-minute break, my friends Conrad, Dustin and myself went about exploring. Dodging around corners with our non-existant finger-guns, and pretending to talk into crackley walkie-talkies is always fun in a deserted corridor. So, we eventually found our way into the cafeteria, where things always go wrong. (You don't believe me...watch Jurrasic Park.) So, noticing that the door was unlocked (which never happens), we decided to take a peek inside. Nothing suspicious, you know, just a quick peek and back to class.

Well. Haha.

After snooping around and running atop all of the cafe tables, we decided to jet. This was stupid and fun, and we would pay the price. On our way out, Dustin just happened to notice a rather lonely looking fire extinguisher, and thought it just needed some TLC. Pah. So, he said to myself and Conrad in a stage whisper worthy of Shakespear,"Hey dudes! Stop, man. Lookit what I found, man. Oh...I have a history with these babies. Check it out." And on the last syllable, he (in his words) 'let it free'. Well that was interesting to witness, not to mention hysterically funny when he emerged from the wreck covered in junk. Classic, man. Classic.

So naturally, this is the denoument in our story children, and don't worry, it does have a moral. The story basically ends with the janitor waltzing into the cafeteria where we three hooligans were caught red-handed (literally) with a fire extinguisher that had recently been in use.

Snap. That's when my life flashed before my eyes. Not really. Just another whiff of 'fire-putter-outer' aimed directly at the janitor, so we could make our quick escape down the hall. Brilliant, I tell you.

I shall end this story dear children, with a simple word to the wise: If ever the urge arises from the foul depths within you to spray an unsuspecting janitor with a fire extinguisher, make sure it's on the last day of summerschool so he doesn't bust your ass for vandalism. But does it really count if you spray a person? I don't think that's vandalism. It's just funny.

Don't worry. We never got caught. School ends tomorrow. HAHA! What a sucker!

Punk Rocker Grandma!

2006-07-21T19:03:00.000-07:00

Okay, I have officially concluded that I will never become one of those swanky old bags that we all see everyday in Save-On Foods. You know, the ones that just expect you to hold the door open for them when they're a whole parking lot away, and run you over with their little motor-carts.
No, when I'm old and gray, I will strive to be the coolest old fogey around. I will wear old Rolling Stones t-shirts that touch my knees, with really tight asspants, and of course, the legendary Converse Chuck Taylor sneakers. Naturally, the asspants will have holes in them, which will be unskillfully "patched up" with bits of red plaid from my husbands boxer shorts.

The Chuck Taylor's will be the really old, ratty kind...you know, the ones you see the punk-rockers wear in the mosh-pit. Very durable, those little babies. Believe me, I know. I still have my first pair of Black Chuck's from grade 8 when I thought I was cool. Pah. Load of rubbish.

My hair will be dyed blue, shaved on the sides, and spiked to perfection. I will also have the words "Batman Forever" shaved into the back of my head. Oh yes, I will be one cool mofo, let me tell you.

See? The golden years don't have to be blah. You just have to make it fun. Do you know how many free rock concerts you would be able to snidge your way into? A lot. And all because you were classy enough to take up the ways of the punk-rocker.

Oh man, I can't wait to get old.

Tattoos. My bias.

2006-07-16T16:01:00.000-07:00

Tattoos. I know that you all have one, or at least thought about getting one. If you don't already have one, and you've thought about it, what sort of tattoo would you get? Something rugged, like a skull or a snake? Something delicate, like a rose or a hummingbird? Or maybe you'd get something totally random, like the Jamaican flag on your left buttcheek, or a picture of Richard Gere on your forehead. Although, that would be pretty weird. Kudos to you, man.

Some people totally freak out at the topic of tattoos. That's something I really never understood. If it's not your body, don't be a freak about it and have a whack attack when people mention tattoos. People have the right to choose what they do, don't they? Duh.

Some people call it "defacing your body". That's retarded. If somebody wants to get a tattoo that they find particularly amusing, then it's really none of your business, is it? No, it isn't.
It's not like you're going to have to live with it every day, because it's not your body.

So basically, people need to learn to respect one another, and deal with that fact that people actually do have a right to be themselves. That's what non-conformity is: being yourself when everybody around you is going with the flow.
I've heard it said that getting a tattoo is conformity. I say different. It would be conformity if everybody got the same tattoo. But since no two tattoos are alike, I say it would actually be non-conformity.

In the end, it's really your decision, but if somebody you know decides to get a tattoo, don't be a loser and try to talk them out of it. I'm sorry, but that's retarded.

Final exams...Lord have mercy.

2006-06-29T21:45:00.000-07:00

Well, first blog entry. This is nice. Since I have no idea what to write about, I'll elaborate on how horrible my final provincial exams were this year.

...They were horrible. Over 2 1/2 hours of sitting in a hardwood floor gym with buzzing lights overhead. People sneezing, coughing, snoring, hiccupping, yawning...and possibly even gastrinomical realease-ing. Not so fun when there's millions of you in one gymnasium, pencils scratching hurriedly to fill in the seemingly endless bubble-sheet before time runs out.
Cause for insanity?...I think so. And, to make matters worse...those little distractions we all know so well. Your friends making funny faces at you, the writing of profain words on the 30-year-old ancient desks, teachers looming over your should every "now and then" (but we all know that "every now and then" is really a hidden incription for "every 15 seconds because I'm a nosy little bugger and I love to frighten the little children").

When you're writing a Provincial Exam, you can't really afford to screw around. If someone catches you so much as smiling at a friend, you're dead. Getting up to stretch, dead. Putting up your hand to go the washroom, dead. Breathing, dead. It's oh-so-much fun, don't you see?

In fact, exams are so much fun, that Kayln (that being me) decided to go snooping around to make already fun exams even funner. Wow. I'm so nice. I've compiled (more like copy/pasted) a list of things you can do to raise a little hell during your seemingly endless exams. Have fun....enjoy. And word to your mother.

If you're going to go down, go down with style. Failing your final exam can actually be an amusing experience, depending on what you make of it. Here are some suggestions...

Bring a pillow. Fall asleep (or pretend to) until the last 15 minutes. Wake up, say "oh geez, better get cracking" and do some gibberish work. Turn it in a few minutes early.

Get a copy of the exam, run out screaming "Andre, Andre, I've got the secret documents!!"
If it is a math/science exam, answer in essay form. If it is long answer/essay form, answer with numbers and symbols. Be creative. Use the integral symbol.

Make paper airplanes out of the exam. Aim them at the instructor's left nostril.
Talk the entire way through the exam. Read questions aloud, debate your answers with yourself out loud. If asked to stop, yell out, "I'm SOOO sure you can hear me thinking." Then start talking about what a jerk the instructor is.

Bring cheerleaders.

Walk in, get the exam, sit down. About five minutes into it, loudly say to the instructor, "I don't understand ANY of this. I've been to every lecture all semester long! What's the deal? And who the hell are you? Where's the regular guy?"

Bring a Game Boy (or Game Gear, etc...). Play with the volume at max level.

On the answer sheet (book, whatever) find a new, interesting way to refuse to answer every question. For example: I refuse to answer this question on the grounds that it conflicts with my religious beliefs. Be creative.

Bring pets.

Run into the exam room looking about frantically. Breathe a sigh of relief. Go to the instructor, say "They've found me, I have to leave the country" and run off.

Fifteen minutes into the exam, stand up, rip up all the papers into very small pieces, throw them into the air and yell out "Merry Christmas." If you're really daring, ask for another copy of the exam. Say you lost the first one. Repeat this process every fifteen minutes.

Do the exam with crayons, paint, or fluorescent markers.

Come into the exam wearing a pair of birkenstocks, and nothing else.

Come down with a BAD case of Tourette's Syndrome during the exam. Be as vulgar as possible.
Do the entire exam in another language. If you don't know one, make one up! For math/science exams, try using Roman numerals.

Bring things to throw at the instructor when s/he's not looking. Blame it on the person nearest to you.

As soon as the instructor hands you the exam, eat it.

Walk into the exam with an entourage. Claim you are going to be taping your next video during the exam. Try to get the instructor to let them stay, be persuasive. Tell the instructor to expect a percentage of the profits if they are allowed to stay.

Every five minutes, stand up, collect all your things, move to another seat, continue with the exam.

Turn in the exam approximately 30 minutes into it. As you walk out, start commenting on how easy it was.

Do the entire exam as if it was multiple choice and true/false. If it is a multiple choice exam, spell outinteresting things (DCCAB, BABE, etc..).

Bring a black marker. Return the exam with all questions and answers completely blacked out.
Get the exam. Twenty minutes into it, throw your papers down violently, scream out "Screw this!" and walk out triumphantly.

Arrange a protest before the exam starts (i.e. Threaten the instructor that whether or not everyone's done, they are all leaving after one hour to go drink).

Show up completely drunk. (Completely drunk means at some point during the exam, you start to hold your mouth and make "I'm about to bring something up" sounds.).

Every now and then, clap twice rapidly. If the instructor asks why, tell him/her in a very derogatory tone, "the light bulb that goes on above my head when I get an idea is hooked up to a clapper. DUH!"

Comment on how sexy the instructor is looking that day.

Come to the exam wearing a black cloak. After about 30 minutes, put on a white mask and start yelling "I'm here, the phantom of the opera" until they drag you away.

Go to an exam for a class you have no clue about, where you know the class is very small, and the instructor would recognize you if you belonged. Claim that you have been to every lecture. Fight for your right to take the exam.

Upon receiving the exam, look it over, while laughing loudly, say "you don't really expect me to waste my time on this drivel? Days of our Lives is on!!!"

Bring a water pistol with you. Nuff said.

From the moment the exam begins, hum the theme to Jeopardy. Ignore the instructor's requests for you to stop. When they finally get you to leave one way or another, begin whistling the theme to the Bridge on the River Kwai.

Start a brawl in the middle of the exam.

If the exam is math/science related, make up the longest proofs you could possibly think of. Get pi and imaginary numbers into most equations.

Come in wearing a full knight's outfit, complete with sword and shield.

Bring a friend to give you a back massage the entire way through the exam. Insist this person is needed, because you have bad circulation.

Bring cheat sheets FROM ANOTHER CLASS (make sure this is obvious... like history notes for a calculus exam... otherwise you're not just failing, you're getting kicked out, too) and staple them to the exam with the comment "Please use the attached notes for references as you see fit."

When you walk in, complain about the heat. Strip.

After you get the exam, call the instructor over, point to any question, ask for the answer. Try to work it out of him/her.

One word: Wrestlemania.

Bring balloons, blow them up, start throwing them around like they do before concerts start.

Try to get people in the room to do the wave.

Play Frisbee with a friend at the other side of the room.

Bring some large, cumbersome, ugly idol. Put it right next to you. Pray to it often. Consider a small sacrifice.

Get deliveries of candy, flowers, balloons, telegrams, etc... sent to you every few minutes throughout the exam.

During the exam, take apart everything around you. Desks, chairs, anything you can reach.
Complete the exam with everything you write being backwards at a 90 degree angle.

Bring a musical instrument with you, play various tunes. If you are asked to stop, say "it helps me think." Bring a copy of the Student Handbook with you, challenging the instructor to find the section on musical instruments during finals. Don't forget to use the phrase "Told you so".

Answer the exam with the "Top Ten Reasons Why My Professor Sucks".