*Crystalline* I Quit Humans.
I went to the Arts & Science dean advisory office, turned in my Course Approval Form. Ahhh, my registration block and useless appointment gone in one swift hand motion. I felt as sweet and bubbly as Doke.
But the secretary furrowed her brow. After a puzzling amount of paper rifling and keyboard clacking, she stared at me, casually remarking: "You aren't supposed to be here. They shouldn't have given you this (form). You're supposed to have a different advisor."
At the start of this year I transformed (in a halo of blue plasma) from being Undecided to an English and History major. Thus I was moved to another set of advisors, who were so helpfully helpful this year. As no one said otherwise, I assumed they would remain my counsel next year. Nope! I must traverse to the English and History departments and appeal for an advisor, all with the semblance of choice.
Yes, major respective advisors makes sense.
*shouts into the void* Why didn't you tell me I was moved!? Before I spent a week filling out the form, thinking I didn't need an appointment.
So, slightly nauseous, I rushed down to the English department to set up a meet.
[blah blah blah, talked to English Department secretary]
I was matched, told he should be available, and sent across the hall to the office labyrinth. His door was a beautiful tan grain, papers plastered on it in overlapping layers. I was sorta dazed by the sudden confusion and disbelief; I stood there trying to decipher the taped-paper mess in front of me. So I knocked and discovered that the man within was not as pleasant as his door.
I explained the situation, that I had been directed to him and he eyed me like I was...I don't know. Inferior.
He didn't say anything, only slowly placed his finger on a paper somewhat centered on the door. How evident was it now that I was not required to speak to him in order to speak to him. Jot my name on the paper and merry off, so I could better focus on dividing the cells in my head. Fucker.
"Right, then," I said.
*
The only time convenient for him was four hours after my only class, so I made the trip to campus twice today. When I arrived, his door was open. I was disinclined to accept the invitation. I wished for the secretary instead, to whom I could request another advisor. But I moved to the doorway and saw that he was hunched over his desk. I paused a moment for him to acknowledge me...no such honor.
I was about to say something when he looked up, stared, and told me to sit down. His rudeness was irritating me; I had to respond somehow, so I settled for a roundabout "fantastic."
He stilled, looked at me, and was a bit forceful when he asked "Was that sarcasm?"
Oh, that's ironic. It was going to be one of those "I don't like you as a person" things if I didn't placate him--thus, I spinned it as being tired and finals and work.
He responded shortly, insinuating that his workload was far more immense than mine. I shrugged.
Trying to smooth things over, I talked about how I've enjoyed the English classes so far, but there's been trouble with course availability, ETC. He refused to believe me. I pointed out the requirements imbalance and again he shook his head, but commented that with History I should speak to that advisor for a resolution. Right, so he believes it with History, but not with English.
Then I mentioned looking to other colleges for some credit and he flatly advised against it. He didn't supply a reason so I tried again when he brought up foreign language. I'm for Japanese, but the one class available was taken out by a surge of student interest. Therefore, I'm thinking of Metro for credit. He shook his head.
Toward the end, he listed what was left of my general education: "natural science, math, foreign language, speech--"
"I've taken speech."
"OoOOOo-kay."
What the? Did he just sarcastically "okay" me? I smiled at him. "Debate, last semester." I gestured to his monitor, encouraging a look.
"OoooooOO-kay." He scribbled out the class on my sheet.
*sigh*
I have never disliked someone so instantly. But it's alright. It's fine. I'll just ask for a different advisor and sugarcoat the truth should I face a "why?"
I don't think a "because I despise him" would actually deter me, but pleasantries would be best. And it's a fact that I'll become physically ill if I have to see him again (for example, every semester for the rest of college).
Yo Megs, who's your English advisor? Wanna share? *manga dangle*
♥ ♥ ♥
One of my coworkers has mono, but insists on coming to work because he "really needs the money." Bah.
LOL, okay, I understand that missing a month or so of work can be financially fatal, but he needs to stay away from us. Especially me. I am weak.
However, he continues on with his creepy-feely, currently mono-infected ways, invading the space of every young female coworker. One warded him away straight out, warning that her husband will eat him; the other has iced him over. I guess I'm too nice, for when I talk to him ("Hey, that book's cool," "Hand me the stapler please?"), he attempts to mate with me.
Example
He hovers over me, so I tell him he's definitely going to make me ill. He laughs and breathes, "No, I'm not." Gazes at me. Says he could only make me ill if we kiss.
"Mm. Right. Anyway, the Harry Potter party's in July and--"
"Only if I snog you, you know, if we snog. Snogging would do that, make you sick."
Ho ho, a brilliant reference to Harry Potter.
"Snogging?" I ask, doing him the kindness of ignoring his suggestion. "Since when is that word used here?"
"You know, the word 'snogging' existed before Harry Potter."
"Wha? No, really. Perhaps in England?"
"Harry Potter's not that great."
"And you suck," I say.
Mistake.
"...I will if you want me to (something something something)."
I blocked out the rest.
End Example
Anyway, maybe it's the stress and horror of gross coworker come-ons, but I'm not feeling too great. Dizzy, sore throat, a touch queasy.
So, what do you think?
Or finals? Two left!
♥ ♥ ♥
EXCELLENT NEWS: My coworker, the interlibrary loan manager, found the book The Labyrinth for me to read! Without having to pay eighty dollars for a rare copy off of Amazon! David Bowie in sweet, sweet print.
But the secretary furrowed her brow. After a puzzling amount of paper rifling and keyboard clacking, she stared at me, casually remarking: "You aren't supposed to be here. They shouldn't have given you this (form). You're supposed to have a different advisor."
At the start of this year I transformed (in a halo of blue plasma) from being Undecided to an English and History major. Thus I was moved to another set of advisors, who were so helpfully helpful this year. As no one said otherwise, I assumed they would remain my counsel next year. Nope! I must traverse to the English and History departments and appeal for an advisor, all with the semblance of choice.
Yes, major respective advisors makes sense.
*shouts into the void* Why didn't you tell me I was moved!? Before I spent a week filling out the form, thinking I didn't need an appointment.
So, slightly nauseous, I rushed down to the English department to set up a meet.
[blah blah blah, talked to English Department secretary]
I was matched, told he should be available, and sent across the hall to the office labyrinth. His door was a beautiful tan grain, papers plastered on it in overlapping layers. I was sorta dazed by the sudden confusion and disbelief; I stood there trying to decipher the taped-paper mess in front of me. So I knocked and discovered that the man within was not as pleasant as his door.
I explained the situation, that I had been directed to him and he eyed me like I was...I don't know. Inferior.
He didn't say anything, only slowly placed his finger on a paper somewhat centered on the door. How evident was it now that I was not required to speak to him in order to speak to him. Jot my name on the paper and merry off, so I could better focus on dividing the cells in my head. Fucker.
"Right, then," I said.
*
The only time convenient for him was four hours after my only class, so I made the trip to campus twice today. When I arrived, his door was open. I was disinclined to accept the invitation. I wished for the secretary instead, to whom I could request another advisor. But I moved to the doorway and saw that he was hunched over his desk. I paused a moment for him to acknowledge me...no such honor.
I was about to say something when he looked up, stared, and told me to sit down. His rudeness was irritating me; I had to respond somehow, so I settled for a roundabout "fantastic."
He stilled, looked at me, and was a bit forceful when he asked "Was that sarcasm?"
Oh, that's ironic. It was going to be one of those "I don't like you as a person" things if I didn't placate him--thus, I spinned it as being tired and finals and work.
He responded shortly, insinuating that his workload was far more immense than mine. I shrugged.
Trying to smooth things over, I talked about how I've enjoyed the English classes so far, but there's been trouble with course availability, ETC. He refused to believe me. I pointed out the requirements imbalance and again he shook his head, but commented that with History I should speak to that advisor for a resolution. Right, so he believes it with History, but not with English.
Then I mentioned looking to other colleges for some credit and he flatly advised against it. He didn't supply a reason so I tried again when he brought up foreign language. I'm for Japanese, but the one class available was taken out by a surge of student interest. Therefore, I'm thinking of Metro for credit. He shook his head.
Toward the end, he listed what was left of my general education: "natural science, math, foreign language, speech--"
"I've taken speech."
"OoOOOo-kay."
What the? Did he just sarcastically "okay" me? I smiled at him. "Debate, last semester." I gestured to his monitor, encouraging a look.
"OoooooOO-kay." He scribbled out the class on my sheet.
*sigh*
I have never disliked someone so instantly. But it's alright. It's fine. I'll just ask for a different advisor and sugarcoat the truth should I face a "why?"
I don't think a "because I despise him" would actually deter me, but pleasantries would be best. And it's a fact that I'll become physically ill if I have to see him again (for example, every semester for the rest of college).
Yo Megs, who's your English advisor? Wanna share? *manga dangle*
♥ ♥ ♥
One of my coworkers has mono, but insists on coming to work because he "really needs the money." Bah.
LOL, okay, I understand that missing a month or so of work can be financially fatal, but he needs to stay away from us. Especially me. I am weak.
However, he continues on with his creepy-feely, currently mono-infected ways, invading the space of every young female coworker. One warded him away straight out, warning that her husband will eat him; the other has iced him over. I guess I'm too nice, for when I talk to him ("Hey, that book's cool," "Hand me the stapler please?"), he attempts to mate with me.
Example
He hovers over me, so I tell him he's definitely going to make me ill. He laughs and breathes, "No, I'm not." Gazes at me. Says he could only make me ill if we kiss.
"Mm. Right. Anyway, the Harry Potter party's in July and--"
"Only if I snog you, you know, if we snog. Snogging would do that, make you sick."
Ho ho, a brilliant reference to Harry Potter.
"Snogging?" I ask, doing him the kindness of ignoring his suggestion. "Since when is that word used here?"
"You know, the word 'snogging' existed before Harry Potter."
"Wha? No, really. Perhaps in England?"
"Harry Potter's not that great."
"And you suck," I say.
Mistake.
"...I will if you want me to (something something something)."
I blocked out the rest.
End Example
Anyway, maybe it's the stress and horror of gross coworker come-ons, but I'm not feeling too great. Dizzy, sore throat, a touch queasy.
So, what do you think?
Or finals? Two left!
♥ ♥ ♥
EXCELLENT NEWS: My coworker, the interlibrary loan manager, found the book The Labyrinth for me to read! Without having to pay eighty dollars for a rare copy off of Amazon! David Bowie in sweet, sweet print.