Thursday
(Note: This entry took me 3 days to write, because I don’t have much time, I wrote way too much, and I’m stupid. If things don’t seem to flow, it might be because part was written Thursday night, some was written Friday, and some was written Saturday. You have to pretend like I wrote it all on Thursday though, otherwise it won’t make sense. Furthermore, I didn’t proofread.)
Haven’t written in a while, here goes. This is a textbook journal entry, my day today.
This is my routine: Wake up around 7:00 to the alarm, hit snooze, wake up at 7:09, hit snooze, wake up at 7:18, hit snooze, 2 minutes later jump up out of bed, curse the alarm, and sprint to the shower. In the shower I seem to forget that I’m late and leisurely wash my hair, suds up, then rinse, gradually turning the water hotter and hotter, until I remember, curse the shower, dry off, sprint to my dresser. After I’m dressed I brush my teeth, grab my bag, and leave. Its 7:55 by now and class starts at 8:30, I’m late.
This is today: Wake up at 7:00, get in the shower, wash up, get out, dry off, get dressed, brush my teeth, grab my bag, head out. Its 7:25.
Today is different, I need to get gas. In plenty of time I get gas, leave for school, and I’m there about 20 minutes early… Time for Krispy Kreme! Ok…here’s the question, why don’t I just get up earlier usually? When I don’t need gas. By the time I got to class I was probably 10 times more attentive and 10 times readier (according to Microsoft word, readier is a non-standard word, does that make it less of a word? Does it really need a green squiggly?) to learn. And! I got Krispy Kreme.
This I know, tomorrow the alarm will still be cowering in fear and the shower will know not to keep me showering. The answer is unknown, the logic is incomprehensible, but boy howdy do I love to sleep that extra 9 minutes.
(Change POV, no longer will I pretend like its happening right now, since this really happened like 12 hours ago)
The Krispy Kreme helped in so many ways too. I had a test, and I guarantee it gave me the energy needed to complete such a tedious task. See, this isn’t a test, so much as it is a “you-get-one-and-a-half-hours-to-search-the-book-for-random-facts-and-answers” worksheet worth a lot more points. Anyway, its not a lot of fun, followed by an even worse essay. Today though, the Krispy Kreme smell on me must have put my teacher into a perfect mood as she announced happily “No essay today, I don’t have time to grade them.” Obviously the time-constraint was a cover up, really she was just impressed with my ability to wake up and buy donuts BEFORE making it to class on time. There is this girl next to me who has been trying to get me to cheat with her every test and I always say no. I really want to pull a Billy Madison and yell something, obviously not “No I will not make out with you.” But maybe something equally creative like “No I will not let you cheat.” Anyway, she asked me about one of the questions today and I said “No, crap, shut up, you have a fricken book in front of you, find the answer yourself, holy cow.”
After the test I obviously wanted to waste a little time before I headed to work, so I got on the computer and looked up all the random crap I could think of before coming home for “lunch” which turned into a nap today.
I planned on waking up at 12:15 with the alarm, and I did, but then of course the snooze button was put to good use. Actually, that’s a lie, I just got up and set the alarm for 12:30, 9 minutes was not enough, I needed 15. Finally I got up, later than I usually head to work, and got work dressed. My hair looked lame though so….oh crap! No hat! I couldn’t find a hat anywhere and my hair looked like I had just woken up…which I did…but didn’t want to look like. Anyway, no hat anywhere and I was running late, so I was screwed. I went to work and walked in with my hand in my hair, like I was scratching my head, to justify the retardedness of poofy sides. I talked to Kristen for a minute, all the while brushing my hair with my fingers, scratching my head in confusion, then walked to the bathroom. I rinsed my hair out and rinsed it and did all you can without washing it to get the poof out and then dried it off, but then I looked retarded with wet hair. You really can’t when without a hat. No one said anything, but I’m sure they noticed. I’m sure they thought I had been doing drugs and needed to cool my head off, I’ve heared of that, seen it on Playmakers, drugs heat your brain up and people are always rinsing their heads off, cooling their brains. I was a druggy in their eyes. Later, once I had passed off this idea of them thinking I was a druggy, me and Gustavo (my back room/warehouse/shipping room buddy) went back to our usually random conversation. He is Argentinean.
“What sports are your people good at, other than soccer.” I ask.
“I don’t know…rugby. Rugby is probably our second sport, I played rugby.”
“You would die playing rugby.”
“Oh yeah, well, I just practiced with the team sometimes, then quit.”
“That’s not playing.”
“You’re so technical…”
Later
“What about Olympic sports, are you guys good at any of those?”
“No, we suck at Olympic stuff, we had a good swimmer once maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“I don’t know, I’m just making stuff up.”
“Can’t you guys run well or something?”
“No, running, jumping, that stuff is for black people. They are good at that.”
“Yeah, they really are…”
“I think they are born to run, they steal stuff, they run, then they jump fences.”
“Do you think its ok to be racist since you are a minority?”
“Yeah, I think so…but I’m just kidding.”
“If I had a black dad I wouldn’t take it as a joke.”
“I know your dad, he is my boss.”
“Racist…
Even Later, after Billie Anne comes in a makes a mess with packing peanuts.
Gustavo says “What the…come clean up your mess (::under his breath:: stupid girl…)”
“Why should I” She shouts from the other room.
“Because you made the mess (::under his breath:: retard…) I have other stuff to do, what do you think I’m your mother? What this is? A cleaning service?’
“You can clean it up, you’d like to, you know you would…”
“No…you can clean it up, because you made it, and because you are a woman….Don’t tell my wife I said that, she’d kick my ass.” He says so only I can hear.
(Please excuse the quoted vulgarity, it was really funny when he said it, you have to take what he says and read it with a weird sort of Spanish accent…then laugh, because its funny.)
Good times, me and Gustavo have back there. I don’t like what I do in the office, but I like what he does, so sometimes we trade (unwillingly on his part). Today, I got there and he was eating lunch so I took his job. He put up a fight and kept saying “I’m gonna stop this now, time to trade back…” And of course I would say “Alright, I’m almost done anyways.” Fully intending to keep doing his job until he had about finished mine. My job consists of using a scale to count out 100 small burrs and put them in small cubes and then apply small strips of tape and small labels. I have a small attention span for things like this. My other job is official DJ. We use the shipping computer to play online radio stations to keep us occupied and give us something else to talk about.
“Do people like this band?” Gustavo asks.
“I don’t think so. Actually, I think a lot of people do, just not me.”
“Nickelback, what the hell kind of name is that anyway? Change the station.”
So I do, I change the station. We have a routine now, a weekly routine. To make sure we don’t hear the same songs too many times in a week we rotate the stations. Here’s a run down of this week:
Monday: Spanish rock, I didn’t understand anything and I felt inferior so I changed it to Eclectic rock.
Tuesday: Hair Metal, we both remembered how much this music sucks after about 4 songs and I changed it to Bluegrass, then to Americana. I don’t really know what Americana is but the music wasn’t too bad I guess.
Wednesday: Adult Alternative. This is really the station we both like the most, and whenever other things suck we turn it back to this one. I’m pretty sure on Monday and Tuesday I had probably turned it to Adult Alternative about an hour after the music started.
Thursday: All DanzRadio trance. Not nearly as bad as I expected, techno is respectable at times I’ve decided. I think it would be much better if we had a good stereo. Or a sub. Or speakers. I think it would be better if we weren’t listening to this music through the preinstalled internal computer speaker.
Friday: Who knows? Its not Friday yet.
Tuesdays and Thursdays I have school in the morning AND at night, so I left work around 4:30 to make it about 25 minutes early. I like getting across town early and then still being late to class, that’s college. Today I decided to go to Starbucks and the music store; I really do that whenever I have extra time though. It’s right across the street from my school and it’s a good used CD place, and Starbucks is Starbucks. This time there was a new girl in Starbucks, and she was really cute…
I was unsure of what I wanted to order so I said something like “Hm…I don’t know what I want to order, hold on a second.” She smiled…”If you have any questions, ask, I know stuff.”
Oh, I know stuff, I reply
As much stuff as me? She retorts.
I don’t know, I know enough stuff.
What kind of stuff?
Coffee stuff.
How?
I just know.
Hm….She smiles, SO, you know stuff, what do you want?
I don’t know.
Ha. Get a white mocha.
Ok, a white mocha it is.
That was easy…
I’m easy to please.
So…really, how do you “know stuff”? (I wish she used quote fingers here but she didn’t, she just said it quote-like.)
I worked in a coffee place.
Oh crap, that means I have to actually make this right…
I said I’m easy to please…
Ah, yes. Well, then, I’ll um…actually I’ll still make it right.
Good, I wouldn’t pay otherwise.
(::A few minutes of silence while she makes the drink::)
Crap…I hate making white mochas, why did you order a white mocha?
Remember a few minutes ago when you told me to get a white mocha?
Oh yeah. Alright, well…here it is. I hope it doesn’t suck.
I’m sure it does. I’ll smile when I drink it anyway, to be nice.
Those are the best customers.
I’m the best customer.
You are, lets go make out.
I might have just made up that last line. I actually just walked out of the store, and she smiled, and I looked back as I was leaving and she was smiling still. Then I went to the CD store.
I’m pretty bad at endings; they are always so anticlimactic. I need to work on that before I become a star writer.
At the CD store, I think they see me walk in and think ‘Hey, its this guy, lets make him buy stuff again…’ Because they know I’m a sucker. I’ve walked into the store 3 times and bought 3 CDs. I’m a sucker. These are used CDs, mind you, so they are like 6 bucks, and if you buy 10 you get a free one. I’m halfway there if you include the buy points they gave me for free. This time I picked up a Toad the Wet Sprocket Rarities disc. I love Glen Philips, so most Toad stuff makes me happy. I bought an old Vertical Horizon CD from them and a…oh, my replacement Dave Mathews Under the Table and Dreaming. In case you were wondering what sorts of things they could sucker me into, they’ve all be quality. Its not like I go in innocently and they screw me over sending me out with a Vitamin C album or something.
Ok, so after the Cute girl/CD purchasing pre-class fun, its time to head to the school. I got there probably 10 minutes til class starts and my class is right off of the computer lab so I always go there and waste time. I checked my email (I didn’t get anything but junk mail and chain letters, jerks…), check ESPN.com to see if I’ve missed anything in the world (note, I don’t visit CNN.com to get my daily update or to find out what happens in the world, its ESPN for me.) Then, with about 5 minutes before class starts, I get on instant messenger. Jordan was on, maybe one or two other people, I don’t remember…but I stayed to talk for probably 15 minutes. Obviously class has started by the time I finished and throughout my time at the computer I saw everyone filing into class, I heard the lecture begin, after class had began everyone else getting there late would look over and laugh, knowing full well I would take me sweet time in getting to class. It’s a horrible class, you would sit outside as long as possible too, especially when you had better things to do like talk to Jordan across the country. Eventually though, and inevitably, I go to class.
Its always fun to walk into college classes late, everyone looks up, smiles, looks “surprised”, some people just look back and follow you with their deadly stares until you sit down, even then some don’t turn away. It’s actually not that dramatic at all, no one cares. The class is “Human Growth and Development” which everyone also knows as Developmental Psychology.
I’ve come to this conclusion: In too many people’s minds the prefix “psych” means “spill your guts, tell everyone everything personal about your life.” They must think that Psychology classes are directly related to Psychiatrists and that they can come to class and get the same relief as if they were in some sort of clinic. I suppose it’s the cheaper choice, but crap, I don’t want to spend 45 minutes in class debating classmates’ relationship problems. I bet you do though…so here’s a sampling:
Girl right behind me, to the left: She has really good friends who have a terrible relationship and are only staying together for the kids. For them its no big deal to cheat on each other as long as the person they are sleeping with is a good choice. She has a problem with this and seems to want the class to rally behind her, that will make her feel better about herself, if we agree that this is horrible parenting. Later she says: When I got married it was different, our wedding night I said “You even think about cheating on me your screwed, I didn’t sign a pre-nup and I’ll take you for everything you’re worth, I can be your best friend or your worst enemy.”
What the heck? Who has marital problems? On your wedding night you are threatening your husband, you CAN be his best friend? I thought that was why you were getting married, because you already were…what a mess.
Guy behind me, to the right: Yeah, I know a lot of you guys in here seem pretty anti-man but here’s the deal, I’ve been married 4 times, maybe 5 soon. Women come and go, and they aren’t like children, you can divorce them. They are just people. Who cares? I don’t see why your guys are so anti-man…
Maybe because of everything you just said…maybe…
Girl who sits next to me: I’ll never get married, guys are a-holes, what’s the point? .
Enough said I think?
I suppose I won’t make you read more of their troubles, my journal doesn’t start with “Psych” I guess these troubles should be taken elsewhere.
I think throughout this “Lecture” I went pee 3 times. For one because I like leaving class, but mostly it was because of that coffee. I couldn’t stop, that stuff flows through. But, the point of this is to say that I really like the way you can come and go as you please, it’s so much greater than high school in that way.
Actually…here is my take on college in general: I’ve tricked the world!
Whoever accredits colleges must have been paid off when they came to FCCJ, its known as the best community college in Florida but what the heck? Is there any challenge? Can I really waltz through this place with a 4.0 GPA? I guess we’ll see, but until then, bring it on, bring on the open book tests, bring on the no homework policies, bring on the one and a half early departures from class. I can take it; I’ll survive. Throw all the “we don’t really use the book in this class” you have, give it your best shot, I’ll lean against the wall and give you a free shot from the foul line, no no, come closer, chuck that “attendance isn’t necessary, it just makes the information easier to understand” as hard as you can, fling it baby.
OK, back to developmental psych thrashing.
There is this lady in the front row, she used to teach, but she hates teaching because she is a horrible women and likes to beat children, slice their arms off, curse their finger paintings, so she is going back to school to study for a new career. She also likes to glare at people who talk in class. Sometimes she even calls them out… After we had discussed (for nearly 30 minutes) some lame test that they use in the Florida elementary schools the class was growing restless and this outburst occurred…
“Hey, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m trying to listen and contribute to the class discussion, the professor is talking and we need to give her our attention.” Says the child eater.
“Ok…show me where in the book this information is, where is it on the study guide, show me in the curriculum what this relates to. You won’t be able to find it, you just wasted 45 minutes of our time.” The womanizer rebuts.
“It’s the professors class, she can talk about what she likes.”
“Who brought this topic up? I’m pretty sure it was you, and I’m pretty sure you have been the number one contributor to this tangent.”
(Actually, these words aren’t the real ones, the womanizer sound much less intelligent but I still rallied behind him in support)
Anyway, she likes to glare at people who are talking in class and today she looked back at me, several times… I had things to talk about, I had a teachers lecture to dissect, and I had jokes to make. I wasn’t too loud, and everything I said related directly to something the professor had said, so no one should worry. She glared at me, I smiled back, BIG and cheesy. Another thing I like about college: She might be 30 years my senior, but in class she is my peer, she is just another classmate, its level ground, this teachers got nothing on me. I hope she enjoys my big cheesy smiles, because she’ll keep getting them, every time she looks back. Or maybe I’ll glare back, and obvious glare, real funny like, you can’t take the lady seriously, she’s old and rude and we’re on level ground.
Once I’m all joked out and I have no more hilarious comments to make (I am hilarious) about Professor Rosa, boredom settles in. I never really know what to do at this point. Usually I bring a book, and read. I read a lot of my last book in there. Tragically, I forgot to bring a book. I don’t have any small money (or any cash at all actually) so a trip to the vending machine would be fruitless (If I walked out there and came back empty handed the class would think I had visited the restroom for the 4th time and had some sort of urinary problem or I was trying to pass a stone or something, maybe drugs again, maybe for the second time today people would be suspicious that I was doing drugs, and not going pee, I was hitting it up, sniffing the coke in the bathroom, 4 times in a class period, I must be a hardcore, I need help…but that’s ok, I’m in a class with the prefix of psych, I can talk about my problems here, its like a psychiatrist only cheaper.) To deter any such ideas I crackd open the textbook, sometimes they have comics in there. I searched the book, there are only about 3 per chapter but that was enough I guess. Too bad they suck. They are the worst comics I’ve ever read. I honestly think they must have changed the captions to relate to the book, they took away the funny captions and replaced them with retarded, sometimes perverted, new captions.
There is a picture of two small children looking at a photo album, one of the kids is pointing to a picture we can’t see. “And this one is a picture of my Grandma’s current lover.” Eww… It is in the section about old people acting younger. It must have been changed. They should have changed it to “And this one is a picture of my Grandma’s current lover…or is this one my Grandma and that’s her lover…I don’t remember, all old people look the same. Wrinkly.” It would have been funnier, maybe horrible, but funny. You have to be able to take a joke.
There is a picture of a dad reading the paper and a son eating cereal at the breakfast table. The dad says, “Son, they say your generation doesn’t have as much to look forward to as my generation did. Do you want to talk about it?” What? This isn’t funny at all. It is in the section about social security running out, obviously. They say they get these from some comic website…I think that website should be hacked and burned somehow, light a fire online and get rid of this abomination. Is there anything funny about that caption? If you are catching something that I’m not, let me know. Funnier caption “Hey son, look at these comics, they are 30 times funnier than the ones you can find on that crappy comic website that the Human Growth and Development Text book uses. Boy do those comics suck.”
There is a picture of a woman coming down the stairs holding a phone and there is a guy on the couch, she says “Hi. You’ve been randomly selected to do a sex survey upstairs in 15 minutes.” For one, this isn’t funny at all. For another, why is it so blunt? For another, these people look older than my parents, so what’s the deal with this book and old people’s sex lives? Funnier caption: “Hi, You’ve been randomly selected to do a sex survey upstairs in 15 minutes.” Guy replies, “I knew I should have bought that telezapper.”
So. The comics sucked.
Boredom prevails.
I was going to write some stupid things that Professor Rosa said, but this stupid entry is already 7.5 pages in Microsoft Word.
I don’t really know how to conclude things, so I don’t think I will. The end.
Haven’t written in a while, here goes. This is a textbook journal entry, my day today.
This is my routine: Wake up around 7:00 to the alarm, hit snooze, wake up at 7:09, hit snooze, wake up at 7:18, hit snooze, 2 minutes later jump up out of bed, curse the alarm, and sprint to the shower. In the shower I seem to forget that I’m late and leisurely wash my hair, suds up, then rinse, gradually turning the water hotter and hotter, until I remember, curse the shower, dry off, sprint to my dresser. After I’m dressed I brush my teeth, grab my bag, and leave. Its 7:55 by now and class starts at 8:30, I’m late.
This is today: Wake up at 7:00, get in the shower, wash up, get out, dry off, get dressed, brush my teeth, grab my bag, head out. Its 7:25.
Today is different, I need to get gas. In plenty of time I get gas, leave for school, and I’m there about 20 minutes early… Time for Krispy Kreme! Ok…here’s the question, why don’t I just get up earlier usually? When I don’t need gas. By the time I got to class I was probably 10 times more attentive and 10 times readier (according to Microsoft word, readier is a non-standard word, does that make it less of a word? Does it really need a green squiggly?) to learn. And! I got Krispy Kreme.
This I know, tomorrow the alarm will still be cowering in fear and the shower will know not to keep me showering. The answer is unknown, the logic is incomprehensible, but boy howdy do I love to sleep that extra 9 minutes.
(Change POV, no longer will I pretend like its happening right now, since this really happened like 12 hours ago)
The Krispy Kreme helped in so many ways too. I had a test, and I guarantee it gave me the energy needed to complete such a tedious task. See, this isn’t a test, so much as it is a “you-get-one-and-a-half-hours-to-search-the-book-for-random-facts-and-answers” worksheet worth a lot more points. Anyway, its not a lot of fun, followed by an even worse essay. Today though, the Krispy Kreme smell on me must have put my teacher into a perfect mood as she announced happily “No essay today, I don’t have time to grade them.” Obviously the time-constraint was a cover up, really she was just impressed with my ability to wake up and buy donuts BEFORE making it to class on time. There is this girl next to me who has been trying to get me to cheat with her every test and I always say no. I really want to pull a Billy Madison and yell something, obviously not “No I will not make out with you.” But maybe something equally creative like “No I will not let you cheat.” Anyway, she asked me about one of the questions today and I said “No, crap, shut up, you have a fricken book in front of you, find the answer yourself, holy cow.”
After the test I obviously wanted to waste a little time before I headed to work, so I got on the computer and looked up all the random crap I could think of before coming home for “lunch” which turned into a nap today.
I planned on waking up at 12:15 with the alarm, and I did, but then of course the snooze button was put to good use. Actually, that’s a lie, I just got up and set the alarm for 12:30, 9 minutes was not enough, I needed 15. Finally I got up, later than I usually head to work, and got work dressed. My hair looked lame though so….oh crap! No hat! I couldn’t find a hat anywhere and my hair looked like I had just woken up…which I did…but didn’t want to look like. Anyway, no hat anywhere and I was running late, so I was screwed. I went to work and walked in with my hand in my hair, like I was scratching my head, to justify the retardedness of poofy sides. I talked to Kristen for a minute, all the while brushing my hair with my fingers, scratching my head in confusion, then walked to the bathroom. I rinsed my hair out and rinsed it and did all you can without washing it to get the poof out and then dried it off, but then I looked retarded with wet hair. You really can’t when without a hat. No one said anything, but I’m sure they noticed. I’m sure they thought I had been doing drugs and needed to cool my head off, I’ve heared of that, seen it on Playmakers, drugs heat your brain up and people are always rinsing their heads off, cooling their brains. I was a druggy in their eyes. Later, once I had passed off this idea of them thinking I was a druggy, me and Gustavo (my back room/warehouse/shipping room buddy) went back to our usually random conversation. He is Argentinean.
“What sports are your people good at, other than soccer.” I ask.
“I don’t know…rugby. Rugby is probably our second sport, I played rugby.”
“You would die playing rugby.”
“Oh yeah, well, I just practiced with the team sometimes, then quit.”
“That’s not playing.”
“You’re so technical…”
Later
“What about Olympic sports, are you guys good at any of those?”
“No, we suck at Olympic stuff, we had a good swimmer once maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“I don’t know, I’m just making stuff up.”
“Can’t you guys run well or something?”
“No, running, jumping, that stuff is for black people. They are good at that.”
“Yeah, they really are…”
“I think they are born to run, they steal stuff, they run, then they jump fences.”
“Do you think its ok to be racist since you are a minority?”
“Yeah, I think so…but I’m just kidding.”
“If I had a black dad I wouldn’t take it as a joke.”
“I know your dad, he is my boss.”
“Racist…
Even Later, after Billie Anne comes in a makes a mess with packing peanuts.
Gustavo says “What the…come clean up your mess (::under his breath:: stupid girl…)”
“Why should I” She shouts from the other room.
“Because you made the mess (::under his breath:: retard…) I have other stuff to do, what do you think I’m your mother? What this is? A cleaning service?’
“You can clean it up, you’d like to, you know you would…”
“No…you can clean it up, because you made it, and because you are a woman….Don’t tell my wife I said that, she’d kick my ass.” He says so only I can hear.
(Please excuse the quoted vulgarity, it was really funny when he said it, you have to take what he says and read it with a weird sort of Spanish accent…then laugh, because its funny.)
Good times, me and Gustavo have back there. I don’t like what I do in the office, but I like what he does, so sometimes we trade (unwillingly on his part). Today, I got there and he was eating lunch so I took his job. He put up a fight and kept saying “I’m gonna stop this now, time to trade back…” And of course I would say “Alright, I’m almost done anyways.” Fully intending to keep doing his job until he had about finished mine. My job consists of using a scale to count out 100 small burrs and put them in small cubes and then apply small strips of tape and small labels. I have a small attention span for things like this. My other job is official DJ. We use the shipping computer to play online radio stations to keep us occupied and give us something else to talk about.
“Do people like this band?” Gustavo asks.
“I don’t think so. Actually, I think a lot of people do, just not me.”
“Nickelback, what the hell kind of name is that anyway? Change the station.”
So I do, I change the station. We have a routine now, a weekly routine. To make sure we don’t hear the same songs too many times in a week we rotate the stations. Here’s a run down of this week:
Monday: Spanish rock, I didn’t understand anything and I felt inferior so I changed it to Eclectic rock.
Tuesday: Hair Metal, we both remembered how much this music sucks after about 4 songs and I changed it to Bluegrass, then to Americana. I don’t really know what Americana is but the music wasn’t too bad I guess.
Wednesday: Adult Alternative. This is really the station we both like the most, and whenever other things suck we turn it back to this one. I’m pretty sure on Monday and Tuesday I had probably turned it to Adult Alternative about an hour after the music started.
Thursday: All DanzRadio trance. Not nearly as bad as I expected, techno is respectable at times I’ve decided. I think it would be much better if we had a good stereo. Or a sub. Or speakers. I think it would be better if we weren’t listening to this music through the preinstalled internal computer speaker.
Friday: Who knows? Its not Friday yet.
Tuesdays and Thursdays I have school in the morning AND at night, so I left work around 4:30 to make it about 25 minutes early. I like getting across town early and then still being late to class, that’s college. Today I decided to go to Starbucks and the music store; I really do that whenever I have extra time though. It’s right across the street from my school and it’s a good used CD place, and Starbucks is Starbucks. This time there was a new girl in Starbucks, and she was really cute…
I was unsure of what I wanted to order so I said something like “Hm…I don’t know what I want to order, hold on a second.” She smiled…”If you have any questions, ask, I know stuff.”
Oh, I know stuff, I reply
As much stuff as me? She retorts.
I don’t know, I know enough stuff.
What kind of stuff?
Coffee stuff.
How?
I just know.
Hm….She smiles, SO, you know stuff, what do you want?
I don’t know.
Ha. Get a white mocha.
Ok, a white mocha it is.
That was easy…
I’m easy to please.
So…really, how do you “know stuff”? (I wish she used quote fingers here but she didn’t, she just said it quote-like.)
I worked in a coffee place.
Oh crap, that means I have to actually make this right…
I said I’m easy to please…
Ah, yes. Well, then, I’ll um…actually I’ll still make it right.
Good, I wouldn’t pay otherwise.
(::A few minutes of silence while she makes the drink::)
Crap…I hate making white mochas, why did you order a white mocha?
Remember a few minutes ago when you told me to get a white mocha?
Oh yeah. Alright, well…here it is. I hope it doesn’t suck.
I’m sure it does. I’ll smile when I drink it anyway, to be nice.
Those are the best customers.
I’m the best customer.
You are, lets go make out.
I might have just made up that last line. I actually just walked out of the store, and she smiled, and I looked back as I was leaving and she was smiling still. Then I went to the CD store.
I’m pretty bad at endings; they are always so anticlimactic. I need to work on that before I become a star writer.
At the CD store, I think they see me walk in and think ‘Hey, its this guy, lets make him buy stuff again…’ Because they know I’m a sucker. I’ve walked into the store 3 times and bought 3 CDs. I’m a sucker. These are used CDs, mind you, so they are like 6 bucks, and if you buy 10 you get a free one. I’m halfway there if you include the buy points they gave me for free. This time I picked up a Toad the Wet Sprocket Rarities disc. I love Glen Philips, so most Toad stuff makes me happy. I bought an old Vertical Horizon CD from them and a…oh, my replacement Dave Mathews Under the Table and Dreaming. In case you were wondering what sorts of things they could sucker me into, they’ve all be quality. Its not like I go in innocently and they screw me over sending me out with a Vitamin C album or something.
Ok, so after the Cute girl/CD purchasing pre-class fun, its time to head to the school. I got there probably 10 minutes til class starts and my class is right off of the computer lab so I always go there and waste time. I checked my email (I didn’t get anything but junk mail and chain letters, jerks…), check ESPN.com to see if I’ve missed anything in the world (note, I don’t visit CNN.com to get my daily update or to find out what happens in the world, its ESPN for me.) Then, with about 5 minutes before class starts, I get on instant messenger. Jordan was on, maybe one or two other people, I don’t remember…but I stayed to talk for probably 15 minutes. Obviously class has started by the time I finished and throughout my time at the computer I saw everyone filing into class, I heard the lecture begin, after class had began everyone else getting there late would look over and laugh, knowing full well I would take me sweet time in getting to class. It’s a horrible class, you would sit outside as long as possible too, especially when you had better things to do like talk to Jordan across the country. Eventually though, and inevitably, I go to class.
Its always fun to walk into college classes late, everyone looks up, smiles, looks “surprised”, some people just look back and follow you with their deadly stares until you sit down, even then some don’t turn away. It’s actually not that dramatic at all, no one cares. The class is “Human Growth and Development” which everyone also knows as Developmental Psychology.
I’ve come to this conclusion: In too many people’s minds the prefix “psych” means “spill your guts, tell everyone everything personal about your life.” They must think that Psychology classes are directly related to Psychiatrists and that they can come to class and get the same relief as if they were in some sort of clinic. I suppose it’s the cheaper choice, but crap, I don’t want to spend 45 minutes in class debating classmates’ relationship problems. I bet you do though…so here’s a sampling:
Girl right behind me, to the left: She has really good friends who have a terrible relationship and are only staying together for the kids. For them its no big deal to cheat on each other as long as the person they are sleeping with is a good choice. She has a problem with this and seems to want the class to rally behind her, that will make her feel better about herself, if we agree that this is horrible parenting. Later she says: When I got married it was different, our wedding night I said “You even think about cheating on me your screwed, I didn’t sign a pre-nup and I’ll take you for everything you’re worth, I can be your best friend or your worst enemy.”
What the heck? Who has marital problems? On your wedding night you are threatening your husband, you CAN be his best friend? I thought that was why you were getting married, because you already were…what a mess.
Guy behind me, to the right: Yeah, I know a lot of you guys in here seem pretty anti-man but here’s the deal, I’ve been married 4 times, maybe 5 soon. Women come and go, and they aren’t like children, you can divorce them. They are just people. Who cares? I don’t see why your guys are so anti-man…
Maybe because of everything you just said…maybe…
Girl who sits next to me: I’ll never get married, guys are a-holes, what’s the point? .
Enough said I think?
I suppose I won’t make you read more of their troubles, my journal doesn’t start with “Psych” I guess these troubles should be taken elsewhere.
I think throughout this “Lecture” I went pee 3 times. For one because I like leaving class, but mostly it was because of that coffee. I couldn’t stop, that stuff flows through. But, the point of this is to say that I really like the way you can come and go as you please, it’s so much greater than high school in that way.
Actually…here is my take on college in general: I’ve tricked the world!
Whoever accredits colleges must have been paid off when they came to FCCJ, its known as the best community college in Florida but what the heck? Is there any challenge? Can I really waltz through this place with a 4.0 GPA? I guess we’ll see, but until then, bring it on, bring on the open book tests, bring on the no homework policies, bring on the one and a half early departures from class. I can take it; I’ll survive. Throw all the “we don’t really use the book in this class” you have, give it your best shot, I’ll lean against the wall and give you a free shot from the foul line, no no, come closer, chuck that “attendance isn’t necessary, it just makes the information easier to understand” as hard as you can, fling it baby.
OK, back to developmental psych thrashing.
There is this lady in the front row, she used to teach, but she hates teaching because she is a horrible women and likes to beat children, slice their arms off, curse their finger paintings, so she is going back to school to study for a new career. She also likes to glare at people who talk in class. Sometimes she even calls them out… After we had discussed (for nearly 30 minutes) some lame test that they use in the Florida elementary schools the class was growing restless and this outburst occurred…
“Hey, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m trying to listen and contribute to the class discussion, the professor is talking and we need to give her our attention.” Says the child eater.
“Ok…show me where in the book this information is, where is it on the study guide, show me in the curriculum what this relates to. You won’t be able to find it, you just wasted 45 minutes of our time.” The womanizer rebuts.
“It’s the professors class, she can talk about what she likes.”
“Who brought this topic up? I’m pretty sure it was you, and I’m pretty sure you have been the number one contributor to this tangent.”
(Actually, these words aren’t the real ones, the womanizer sound much less intelligent but I still rallied behind him in support)
Anyway, she likes to glare at people who are talking in class and today she looked back at me, several times… I had things to talk about, I had a teachers lecture to dissect, and I had jokes to make. I wasn’t too loud, and everything I said related directly to something the professor had said, so no one should worry. She glared at me, I smiled back, BIG and cheesy. Another thing I like about college: She might be 30 years my senior, but in class she is my peer, she is just another classmate, its level ground, this teachers got nothing on me. I hope she enjoys my big cheesy smiles, because she’ll keep getting them, every time she looks back. Or maybe I’ll glare back, and obvious glare, real funny like, you can’t take the lady seriously, she’s old and rude and we’re on level ground.
Once I’m all joked out and I have no more hilarious comments to make (I am hilarious) about Professor Rosa, boredom settles in. I never really know what to do at this point. Usually I bring a book, and read. I read a lot of my last book in there. Tragically, I forgot to bring a book. I don’t have any small money (or any cash at all actually) so a trip to the vending machine would be fruitless (If I walked out there and came back empty handed the class would think I had visited the restroom for the 4th time and had some sort of urinary problem or I was trying to pass a stone or something, maybe drugs again, maybe for the second time today people would be suspicious that I was doing drugs, and not going pee, I was hitting it up, sniffing the coke in the bathroom, 4 times in a class period, I must be a hardcore, I need help…but that’s ok, I’m in a class with the prefix of psych, I can talk about my problems here, its like a psychiatrist only cheaper.) To deter any such ideas I crackd open the textbook, sometimes they have comics in there. I searched the book, there are only about 3 per chapter but that was enough I guess. Too bad they suck. They are the worst comics I’ve ever read. I honestly think they must have changed the captions to relate to the book, they took away the funny captions and replaced them with retarded, sometimes perverted, new captions.
There is a picture of two small children looking at a photo album, one of the kids is pointing to a picture we can’t see. “And this one is a picture of my Grandma’s current lover.” Eww… It is in the section about old people acting younger. It must have been changed. They should have changed it to “And this one is a picture of my Grandma’s current lover…or is this one my Grandma and that’s her lover…I don’t remember, all old people look the same. Wrinkly.” It would have been funnier, maybe horrible, but funny. You have to be able to take a joke.
There is a picture of a dad reading the paper and a son eating cereal at the breakfast table. The dad says, “Son, they say your generation doesn’t have as much to look forward to as my generation did. Do you want to talk about it?” What? This isn’t funny at all. It is in the section about social security running out, obviously. They say they get these from some comic website…I think that website should be hacked and burned somehow, light a fire online and get rid of this abomination. Is there anything funny about that caption? If you are catching something that I’m not, let me know. Funnier caption “Hey son, look at these comics, they are 30 times funnier than the ones you can find on that crappy comic website that the Human Growth and Development Text book uses. Boy do those comics suck.”
There is a picture of a woman coming down the stairs holding a phone and there is a guy on the couch, she says “Hi. You’ve been randomly selected to do a sex survey upstairs in 15 minutes.” For one, this isn’t funny at all. For another, why is it so blunt? For another, these people look older than my parents, so what’s the deal with this book and old people’s sex lives? Funnier caption: “Hi, You’ve been randomly selected to do a sex survey upstairs in 15 minutes.” Guy replies, “I knew I should have bought that telezapper.”
So. The comics sucked.
Boredom prevails.
I was going to write some stupid things that Professor Rosa said, but this stupid entry is already 7.5 pages in Microsoft Word.
I don’t really know how to conclude things, so I don’t think I will. The end.