State school fish, big elite pond
Man, back in Charlotte, I was queen. I was the empress of the grad students in that department. I always talked in class, people came to my office for advice, both professional and personal, everyone thought I was brilliant... And then I got accepted to Georgetown, and people I didn't even know were coming up to me in the halls to congratulate me.
And now I'm here. And this isn't like Charlotte at all.
In my historiography class, there are three people who so monopolize the conversation that even I can't seem to get a word in the whole time. I, who in my undergrad and grad classes led the discussion with spirit and passion!
Ugh.
There's a girl in the class who has a very thick accent, and delivers herself of 5-11 minute speeches on nothing interesting at all, and drives me mad. She drives everyone else mad too.
Then there's the guy from Dubai, with the American accent, who has trashed Thucidides, ibn Khaldun, and now Braudel, three weeks running. Some punk kid trashes historians to whom much better minds than we'll ever encounter have deferred as a matter of course!
Then there's my Turkish friend, who seems to think we're all terribly keen to hear his own opinions on everything.
Sometimes, I just want to tell them all to shut up.
In three weeks, though, I shall have my revenge. Then, we discuss Carlo Ginzburg, and it's my turn to lead the discussion. *wicked laugh, perhaps slightly mad*
Homework, then. And then exhausted dreamless sleep.....
And now I'm here. And this isn't like Charlotte at all.
In my historiography class, there are three people who so monopolize the conversation that even I can't seem to get a word in the whole time. I, who in my undergrad and grad classes led the discussion with spirit and passion!
Ugh.
There's a girl in the class who has a very thick accent, and delivers herself of 5-11 minute speeches on nothing interesting at all, and drives me mad. She drives everyone else mad too.
Then there's the guy from Dubai, with the American accent, who has trashed Thucidides, ibn Khaldun, and now Braudel, three weeks running. Some punk kid trashes historians to whom much better minds than we'll ever encounter have deferred as a matter of course!
Then there's my Turkish friend, who seems to think we're all terribly keen to hear his own opinions on everything.
Sometimes, I just want to tell them all to shut up.
In three weeks, though, I shall have my revenge. Then, we discuss Carlo Ginzburg, and it's my turn to lead the discussion. *wicked laugh, perhaps slightly mad*
Homework, then. And then exhausted dreamless sleep.....