HELLO, AND WELCOME TO THE SUMMER OF MY DISCONTENT.
As the second week of the second summer session revs up, I am faced with the devil; one dressed in 4 inch heels and short red shorts. This person is my Writing for Public Relations professor. One would think she is nice, young, and would be tired and uncaring since she has an infant at home and is a single mother, but this seems to not be the case. She is Hitler reincarnated to give me a sea of red marks on memos and campaigns, to give assignments using our "creative brains" only to penalize us after they are turned in because we didn't follow a format we didn't know existed. I am driven to tears by this woman, for I don't know what she expects until it's too late. Alas, I'm always told that I shall be alright, and I usually am, but my sleep, work and school patterns sometimes beg to differ.
Now, keep in mind that the first 3 days of this class I missed due to a scheduling error that almost caused me not to graduate this fall. She allowed me to make up assignments due the next day, though I had nothing but the book and my own memories of Intro to PR from 2 years ago. So I write said assignments to the best of my ability, and I still got only 7 points out of 10 on both of them. Awesome. She handed out an example of a perfect paper done by a fellow student, and as it came around to me, I was floored by it. A perfect, glossy fact sheet IN COLOR NO LESS. It made my 4 hours of research look like I threw it together in 15 minutes with an Apple computer from 25 years ago. I raised my hand and asked if graphics were taken into consideration for grades, and she said no, though I think this is a load of bullshit because little miss "I don't have a job and I can do color printing on my home-based $2,000 PC and color printer" didn't really have anything interesting on said fact sheet.
Such is life, and I shall make it through yet another professor who is on a power-trip. But I can promise you I won't do it without a lot of bullshitting and kicking and screaming on the way.
In other news, my spanish 4 class is going very well. Today we had to draw pictures about what we remembered about a story we had just read. Take me back to 3rd grade; that's right, dumb it down for me because I don't have the time nor much of the motivation anymore to care.
Other than all that, life is grand. The Braud came down last night after I finished my homework and we went and ate dinner together, and drove home listening to her tapes that teach her how to speak German. Ginny speaking with a German accent is the fucking most hilarious thing I've seen in many a week; and damn, she's good at it.
Off to correct my homework.
Now, keep in mind that the first 3 days of this class I missed due to a scheduling error that almost caused me not to graduate this fall. She allowed me to make up assignments due the next day, though I had nothing but the book and my own memories of Intro to PR from 2 years ago. So I write said assignments to the best of my ability, and I still got only 7 points out of 10 on both of them. Awesome. She handed out an example of a perfect paper done by a fellow student, and as it came around to me, I was floored by it. A perfect, glossy fact sheet IN COLOR NO LESS. It made my 4 hours of research look like I threw it together in 15 minutes with an Apple computer from 25 years ago. I raised my hand and asked if graphics were taken into consideration for grades, and she said no, though I think this is a load of bullshit because little miss "I don't have a job and I can do color printing on my home-based $2,000 PC and color printer" didn't really have anything interesting on said fact sheet.
Such is life, and I shall make it through yet another professor who is on a power-trip. But I can promise you I won't do it without a lot of bullshitting and kicking and screaming on the way.
In other news, my spanish 4 class is going very well. Today we had to draw pictures about what we remembered about a story we had just read. Take me back to 3rd grade; that's right, dumb it down for me because I don't have the time nor much of the motivation anymore to care.
Other than all that, life is grand. The Braud came down last night after I finished my homework and we went and ate dinner together, and drove home listening to her tapes that teach her how to speak German. Ginny speaking with a German accent is the fucking most hilarious thing I've seen in many a week; and damn, she's good at it.
Off to correct my homework.