The incredibly true adventures of a travel loving kid at heart who just became both an MBA and a recent widow. Navigating widowhood is the hardest thing I've ever done. Come along for the bumps in the journey.
6.29.2006
i'm irritated
i started my new class and the teacher is a prick... it's a small class (around 15 people) and the professor keeps stressing that 15% of our grade is participation... well, everytime he asks a question the room is filled with dead silence for a good solid minute... so i answer. and then i answer. and then i read out loud, because fuck it all, a) the shit he's asking isn't difficult, b) the silence is just making a long class even longer and c) i want that fucking 15% of my stupid grade. so all night i'm answering, answering answering and then finally the teacher says something about the girl in front of me having "really read closely" or some shit and i was like "umm, actually, that was me". so he says "oh, i just heard the general direction of the voice"... so all fucking night the fucking bump on a log that sits in front of me who was half asleep gets mental credit for all of my answers, because my professor is a) blind, and b) obviously thinks the girl with the piercings and tattoos couldn't possibly have the answers. i'm so beyond annoyed. i wouldn't be so annoyed if i hadn't been the only person (LITERALLY) to have spoken up in a fucking 4 hour class, but i was... and damn it, if i have to be the only person moving the damn class along, then i better at least get some fucking credit for it.
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Make sure that he knows it was your brilliance that moved the class along and not the sleepy "poseur" sitting ahead of you.
And speaking of "blind": How about those blind prostitutes...
...you've really have to hand it to them...
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