Hello World.
My 1:30 class was canceled today so I’m catching up on “The Sing Off” and updating the ‘ol blog … and doing so in a different pair of clothes than the ones I went to my first class in this morning.
I take a travel mug of coffee to class with me every morning and I should have known that one of these days, it would get knocked over. Today was that day. Blonde girl with the huge backpack walked in to class and accidentally knocked it over sending a mug full of hot coffee all over me, the desk, and the floor. So embarrassing. She kept apologizing and I was just trying to play it cool, “Oh it’s no big deal! You’re fine!” — As I’m wringing out my coffee-drenched sweater over the trash can. Luckily, it was before class started so a lot of people weren’t there. And I think I did a pretty good job of pretending to not be as uncomfortable or embarrassed as I really was.
We’re also starting group projects in that class and today I got paired with that person who everyone wants to avoid working with at all costs. I’m not Facebook friends with anybody in that class and none of you are going to know who I’m talking about. She has complete anonymity– so I’m going to vent about her. First of all, don’t feel sorry for her. I’m very friendly to her, and I’m sympathetic to the fact that everyone has their own story and stuff going on in their lives and Lord knows I’m a little socially awkward at times myself, but as far as I can tell this girl is just obnoxiously annoying and doesn’t have any good excuse for it.
This is the girl that on the first day of class, asked the teacher if she had tips for students with “high test anxiety,” then in another class, asked to be excused from the room when we were watching a documentary about executions in the Roman empire because, as she says, “I have a sensitive stomach and am disturbed by violence.” And she has a story for everything. Everything. It’s gotten so bad that the professor just ignores her. This is an example from this morning in my public relations class:
PROFESSOR: Who remember’s what “The Potter’s Box” is, from chapter 5?
STUDENT: Oh my goodness. That just reminded me of the funniest story about my Dad!
PROFESSOR: Does anybody remember?
STUDENT: You see, he worked at this restaurant one time . ..
PROFESSOR: It’s on page 135 in your textbook.
STUDENT: And he worked with this one person and his last name was Potter. Isn’t that crazy? (laughs hysterically)
PROFESSOR: It’s a model for ethical decision making developed by Ralph Potter . . . .
You get the idea. Anyway, when the professor announced that we were breaking into groups for an assignment, she immediately blurted out “I call Jonathan! I call Jonathan!” and then preceded to tell everyone in the class that we “really connect.” The professor, in her great mercy, then turned to me to ask if that arrangement was okay.
No. No it’s not. Please, Dr. Wilson! Save me. Help. I’ll do anything!
“Sure! That’d be great,” I said with a forced smile.
—
In other news, I got a dog–then turned right back around and got rid of it, making me “one of those people.” I know, I know, that’s really irresponsible. My roommates and I got the dog about three weeks ago. And it was great . . . for about an hour. Then he peed on everything in the house, including but not limited to: the area rug in the den, the couch, the love seat, the kitchen floor, and about 5 times he hiked it up and peed all over the air vent. That can’t be healthy. So three weeks, a can of “Hot Shot” carpet cleaner, a bottle of extra strength Febreze, one “Fur Fighter,” (for getting dog hair off the couch) and 5 plug-it-ins later, Weezer the pug is no more. We had him put to sleep.
Totally kidding. Now he lives with some girl named Cassandra. I think he’ll be happier there. I liked him but I just felt bad because we were all so busy so he spent a lot of time in his cage or chained up outside and it’s hard sharing a dog among several people because sometimes we all assumed that the other person would take care of a certain responsibility and it never ended up getting done. It’s for the better. And now our apartment doesn’t smell like the inside of the humane society anymore.
So long, Weezer.
Taken right before he projectile vomited all over the living room then ran off through the open back door and lead me on a chase through the nearby housing projects. Good times, good times.
Well that’s about all for now, friends. I haven’t been paying attention to The Sing Off, so I’m going to rewind and try again. I think I like Sara Bareilles as a judge this year.
Until the next time I get super bored or something really comical, terrible or profound happens,
Jonathan
