A New Day, a New Record of Achievements.
Although I gave up blogging when I got to college, thinking that having an audience to actually tell my stories too would alleviate the necessity to put my stories on the web, I was wrong.I was wrong, because Michelle Condon was right. and told me to start journaling again. I listen to Michelle Condon, because I think she gives good advice, and now here I am.
I chose not to go back to my old blog spot, because I feel that I am at a new place in life, and I need to have a new online story database to reflect that.
So sit back, close your eyes, and have someone read to you, because that would be more interesting than anything I have to say.
Persons who frequent this site will become familiar with a few things in my life that I don't take too seriously, and subsequently allows me to take advantage of them, or in other ways misuse my privileges. You might also (in a rare moment) see somethings that I take very seriously, and that impact my actions, and are largely responsible for shaping the person that I am.
Anyways, one of the things mentioned initially in the previous paragraph is my English 102 class with a graduate student named Tim Murphy. This class is a waste of my time. I found that out on the first day of class when we went around and introduced ourselves and said our majors, and three things about ourselves. The class is half composed of Anglo students, and half composed of ethnic students who don't speak English well. Let me be frank, this class is not for me, it's for people who didn't graduate high school or who don't use commas.
However, 25% percent of my grade is participation (showing up) and so I go to class with a smile on my face.
The inherent uselessness of this class, added to the fact that I have to go to class equates roughly to mean that I am compelled to abuse this class to the best of my abilities.
I'll tell you about it, but first some more background so you can see where I am really coming from.
Three weeks ago, we spent 26 minutes talking about La Encantada Mall in Tucson Arizona. Not just the mall, which is a broad enough topic to spend approximately one minute talking about, but specifically, the turtle statues near the water fountains at the mall.
Read it again.
26 minutes of my life wasted on verbal masturbation about cast bronze turtles. Not exactly the nuances of the creation of said turtles, or anything of any interest to even turtle lovers. It was the twilight zone. I couldn't believe that other college students were encouraging this kind of talk in a college level English class. Of course, there really wasn't anything better to be doing. Even if Tim had been reading to us the lesson for that day, it would have been exactly the same steaming pile of verbal stimulation, so I really can't complain that much.
It gets better.
After invigorating and exercising my cognition with a rousing conversation about turtle statues, a few people in our class suggested taking a field trip to the turtle pond on campus, a trip that should take around 6 minutes to walk there and back. Tim initially says no, however, Tim is a frail man, who is afraid of rejection, being uncool, and me, so after about 13 seconds of persuasion, we are off to the turtle pond.
As the students frolic down to the turtle pond with Tim fearlessly trudging behind all of us, I make an executive decision that class has ended, and I turn around mid journey to go back home and do something more mentally stimulating, like trying to pull all my arm hair out with tweezers. Tim stops me and asks what I was doing. I told him the truth, "I'm going home Tim".
Tim, being the man he is, doesn't tell me not too, or anything that would infringe upon my personality, as not to hinder my development, so I can grow to be a responsible and accomplished Graduate Student, teaching an entry level English class to students who don't respect me.
Instead he says "Oh, ok. What for?"
I tell Tim that I can't tell him, as it is a surprise and he will find out later.
I then proceed to put my headphones in, and walk away, leaving him saying something indistinguishable, and probably really passive.
The next day I had English class Tim asked me what the surprise was, and I told him that I couldn't say, as it was a surprise, and I had promised I wouldn't tell. I told he'd find out later but only if he stopped asking.
Then I put my head down on my desk and took a short nap. In a class of 18 people. In the front row. During a lecture.
posted by Nathan Dean Palmer Ph.D. @ 7:51 PM
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