mychai's Diaryland Diary

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JP now rides the Technicolor Short Bus to school

Ahh. The start of a new quarter at school.

New classmates (very few). New teachers (just one). New classrooms (again, just one).

I'm actually glad to be back in an actual classroom. When I first thought of Internet classrooms, I felt like Homer felt on that episode where he ate and ate until he weighed 300 lbs just so he could work from home.

I thought it was going to be the best thing since Jelly Belly jelly beans. But I was wrong. I hated it. I despised it. I dropped one class and did very poorly in the other (if you are keeping score: I dropped my environmental lit course, and I did poorly in my Geography course).

Me -- I need an actual classroom to learn something. Therefore, it was nice to come back to my college, drive for 15 minutes to find a parking space, decide to park illegally and pay the ticket (with loan money), and be late for class.

Yep. I looooove college.

And I get into my Shakespeare class -- the one I was not really looking forward to. I took a Shakespeare class once before, and that was when I was going to the University here in town. I hated that class, and I think I made either a 'D' or an 'F' in it. But that was partly due to the fact that I was 18 and didn't know what I wanted out of life.

I get into the class kind of late, still cursing the parking situation at my college, and realize the teacher is this old retired Marine from the Viet Nam days. Imagine George Carlin as a Shakespeare nut.

You have my teacher.

Which I love. He doesn't care whether or not you like him. And if he thinks your answer is a smart-ass answer, he'll tell you (which he did to me!). I'm now kind of pumped about this class. I'm sure I'll learn a lot.

To every good, there is a bad.

There are eight people in the class (nine if you count the teacher). Out of the seven people (not counting me), I have previously had class with four of them. Two of the other people I have never seen were obvious former riders of the "short bus." Let me start out with the girl in front of me. Remember, now, that this is a junior-level course. It's not English 101.

When I walked in late and told the teacher that parking is worth shit around the school, she burst out in laughter as if I was Roasting the teacher. I thought she was kissing ass by laughing at how incredulous I was for being late.

But she kept laughing. When she wasn't laughing loudly, she was laughing like you would laugh at a movie theater when you thought something was funny and no one else did. That kind of quiet, muffled, "hhhhe hhhhe hhhhhhhheeeee" laugh.

Then the teacher/Marine would say something like, "This Shakespeare course will be harder than walking through cow shit while shooting gooks on a rainy day." He wasn't trying to be funny. He was trying to scare the everliving crap out of us.

Chick thought it was funny. And she laughed. And laughed. And laughed (ad nausium).

She was annoying as all fuck.

I joke you not: For the entire three hours we were in class, she laughed for probably 85-90%. I seriously think she has some weird form of "Tourette's." I would have rather her yell out curse words. That would at least be less annoying.

Teacher: "Hamlet, the main character in the play--"
Annoying Chick:"Fucker!"
Teacher:"Well, yes. That could be argued, I guess--
Annoying Chick:"Asshole!"

So, she was one of the "special room" rejects in the class.

The other one was named Timothy. And that's what he went by. Not Tim, Timmy, Timbo, Timma-Limma-DingDong. Timothy. Sounds retarded already.

This guy -- a white guy, mind you -- has these lips that stretch out about a foot in front of his face. He can't talk all that well. When he wants to say, "I think Romeo is a tragic character," it comes out sounding like, "I pink Fom Ee fizz a tawashig Kay Katah."

Seriously!

And he blurts out things that only he thinks is funny. Well, I guess Annoying Chick does, too. But RIGHT DAB in the middle of the teacher talking about something quite important, he raised his hand and says, "I need to use the potty." Most people just get up and go. No need to announce it.

So, he stands up, and as loudly as he possibly can, he screams, "To PEE or not to PEE. Now THAT is the question."

I've been told that this was a good day for Timothy. I've also been told that this ex-Marine probably won't be putting up with "much of that shit." Where did I hear that? Straight from the horses soldier's mouth.

But all-in-all, I think I will like my classes.

They will be very reading and writing intensive. My other class -- called something like Literature Theory -- requires that we write over 6,000 words of well-prepared papers.

There are three assignments for all eight weeks. All are papers. You do the math.

Now, consider that I have a full-time job that pays very well. I also have a part-time job that is already killing me, I don't need the money, and I took it basically for fun and learning. I am back at school full-time. Something has to be let go. Can you guess which I'll probably choose?

I love the cooking job. A LOT. But mentally -- and nearabout physically -- I seriously doubt I'll be able to wing it. Which gives me the situation where I have to quit after only a week on the job.

Anybody have any suggestions? Email me or post in the message board. Which nobody really does anymore except this "Anna" chick who obviously knows me very well.

Scary!


Hmm... What else happened today besides school?

I went and got my headlights fixed! I am dying to see how much better I can see the road now that I have blue halogen lights. Maybe I will now be able to see the animals *before* I hit them!

Which, I got another squirrel a few weeks ago and never told you.

I don't know how well they work yet because I am still at school. Writing in the computer lab.

I also went home for a little rest before coming to school. I was flipping channels and saw that "Emergency Vets" was on Animal Planet. I like to watch that show every now and then just so I can remember why I don't like to watch it.

It makes me cry like a woman watching "Beaches."

This woman on today had to sit through all of these therapies they were doing to her dog who was no longer producing red blood cells. Each one, they told her it would surely do the trick and she would go home soon with a happy dog.

Yada yada yada.

The final scene was her holding her dog while they injected this futia-colored liquid into the dog's IV in order to "relieve him." She was crying hysterically. I was crying hysterically. It was truly a very ugly scene for everyone involved.

So, no more "Emergency Vets" for me, thank you very much.


Well, I need to run. Terra's birthday is on Saturday, and I need to go pick up a few more last-minute things. I'm supposed to work at the restaurant tomorrow. But I have a few school projects already assigned. I may call early tomorrow and pass the word that I need to get axed.

I love emails and things, so mail me!

9:40 p.m. - Thurs., Mar. 14, 2002

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