By: Monica
I must start out this post by saying that, compared to Kelly's posts, mine are complete failures. Skydiving? Nicaragua? Quran- burning debates? And here I was just going to talk about my creepy English teacher. I really need some new material. Nonetheless, I promised I would finish my last post, and so I will stick to my word.
11AM- English. The theme is American Regionalism. Shoot me now. My professor is a 22 year old creeper with a goatee, who believes we should give America back to the Native Americans. He is eerily calm and one of those people who doesn't talk much, but who you know thinks nonstop.
There is a Hillary in this class. A boy. And, before class, he was this really cool kid who made conversation with me for half an hour and I thought, "Man, I'm really gonna like this guy." Boy, was I wrong. The second we stepped into that classroom, he transformed into one of those snobby kids that raises their hand to answer every question in great detail, and will go to any lenght to counter the teacher just to impress them. Now, you can imagine, after putting up with this kind of behavior for four years, I was thoroughly sick of it. I decided enough was enough. I had put up with it all through high school and wasn't about to have to deal with it in college. From that day on, I was known as the bitch of English class. Yes, that is my official title. I had figured that the only way to beat someone at their Game is to play it better. So, I raised my hand to answer every question as well. Every time he opened his mouth, I was there to shoot down everything he said. And every time he countered the teacher, I countered him right back. Then the professor would stare at me with this creepy smile on his face and I would ask, "Does that make sense?" and he would say, "Completely. That makes complete sense. You are perfectly right." And then the kid would send me daggers through his eyes. I revelled in it. It brought me the utmost joy. Especially when situations like the following happened:
PROF: "So, what is Mumsford talking about in this paragraph? What does he feel is an important facet to regionalism?"
KID: "The spread of ideas."
PROF: "Uhm... interesting that you say that."
ME: "Actually, isn't it the environment? I mean, he is obviously discussing how the human race must first adapt the surroundings before it can form a culture to represent it's identity."
PROF: "Exactly right! That was the answer I was looking for!" *writes on board* "And, who can tell me where Mumsford lies on this scale between Felsi and Berry?"
ME: "I'd say pretty much down the middle. He shares both opinions but leans neither toward globalization, nor Berry's ridiculous theory of the seperation of the North and the South."
PROF: "Excellent!"
KID: "But, you must agree that Mumsford was indeed inclined to favor globalization over regionalism, can you not?"
ME:" Of course not! Mumsford's definition of Regionalism is clearly a different outlook on today's world than that of Felsi's. Felsi depicts technology at the forefront of this advance to a more connected world. Mumsford vies for human emotion and the connection to the land."
PROF: *creepy smile* "You are completely right, Monica."
No Model UN Monica here. I'm a more well spoken, smarter, less ditzy version of Pakistan. I can also spell better, but that's not much of a milestone. I also make it a point not to speak like Hillary or Pakistan (taking an obvious breath so you can think of words to say). I'm making sure I am always calm and make it sound like I am pointing out the obvious. That is a true sign of intelligence.And I want to break this kid down. I want to make him cry every day after class. Hopefully, one day he will give up his act and I will, only then, back down. Plus, American Regionalism is my forte, for some odd reason. So am able to talk A LOT in that class. Everyone else must hate me. This is not a good way to make friends.
ANYHOO,
12:30- Keyboard. Taught by a Piano performance graduate student who looks like Justene Jaro.
I have about six more classes. None worth mentioning. One consists of listening to German Opera and Jazz for 50 minutes in an auditorium. Another involves my private instructor who never stops smiling like a maniac. I swear, he must have had botox.
I believe this post is long enough, for now. I will update, hopefully tomorrow, again, so that I can list all the quirky nice things that have happened while I was here. I don't talk enough about the good parts.
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