I took my final on Monday, and my lab final the week before. I don't have school tonight or for the rest of the summer. I'm taking an online course for American History, which I'm pretty burned that I have to take.
Well, it's my fault. I had filled out this form of all the classes I needed to take for the university, and I also had to fill in any prerequisites or classes that needed to be taken to graduate Community College. World History fulfilled my "arts and humanities" requirement, and there were two classes. History of the World Part I, and History of the World Part II: Hitler on Ice. (My teacher actually said that at one point, and I was so tempted to say, "We're at now now. Everything that is happening now is happening now." "But what about then?" "We passed then." "When?" "Just now." "When can we go back to then?" "Soon." but it never happened.) (Did I ever mention that he looked like Harrison Ford and always wore a three-piece suit and a fedora? I miss that class.) (Where was I?) (Oh, right, I took both classes.) Only I didn't have to take both classes. I needed to take American History (X) instead of History of the World Part II: Hitler on Ice.
It's not that I don't care about the history of America. I do. I've learned about it all my life. Besides, World History included America, so why couldn't I just go with that?
Oh, no dice, said my counselor. It's a requirement.
And so, I am taking American History now in the summer semester just to get rid of it. Plus, it'll give me something to do so I don't get all caught up in my usual summer depression. And I still have my kick-punch class to look forward to.
Oh, and Bitterblue by Kristin Cashore has been sent to my Kindle! It's been on there since April 30th, but I've been busy getting through the fourth Green Rider book, so I haven't noticed until just now. I'm almost done, and it's not disappointing me so far.
Naturally, I still have the Cat Stevens song stuck in my head. But that's okay.
Showing posts with label responsibilities. Show all posts
Showing posts with label responsibilities. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Friday, May 11, 2012
And another semester ends...
In Community College, each semester is like a whole school year. You do a lot of concentrated learning in a very short amount of time, and you get sort of the same feeling of sadness/happiness that you used to get at the end of a primary school year.
But before I break out the Alice Cooper, I just want to reflect on what a great semester this was.
Firstly, my teacher was totally weird, and not in a "mad scientist Vincent Price" kind of way, but in a "Is he a student or a teacher?" kind of way. I'm serious, the first day I walked in, I saw him fiddling with the lights and almost told him to stop because only teachers could do that. I also had to learn to choose with caution which blouses to wear on lab days because he was so socially inept, he hadn't yet learned how to look down a woman's shirt without getting caught. I usually wear a camisole under my shirts anyway, but the look on his face when I'd catch him was priceless. The funny thing is that I think he also admired my intellect because when I would explain about something to my lab partners, he would stand close, and then when I was done, he'd say, "Wow, you are really learning this."
(I have HUGE breasts, so I'm used to both women and men looking down my blouse, and yeah it should bother me, but I think I've gotten to the point where it's just anatomy and I don't care any more. I mean, I seriously look down women's blouses myself, and have been prone to check out a man's butt a time or twenty, I think the trick is to do it with subtletey.)
(I mean, if you want to know how magnificent my rack is, I almost caused an accident once when I was at a strip mall and opened my hoodie to show my friend my new tankini top. It's there. You can't not look. The best thing to do is look and get it out of your system.)
Secondly, I loved lab. I read a blog the other day where someone was talking about how they were glad they never had to dissect anything, and I was like, "ooohhhh...but...but..."
The only thing we dissected was fruit in this class, but we did look at real skeletons that bothered a few people (both the males and the females).
I feel like I'm finally moving on to the stuff that will actually pertain to my major. I mean, math pertained to my major, but only in a roundabout way. This is my first actual science class, and I am so glad that this is what I have to look forward to the next two years. It is so fun to me, and challenging. I think I've finally arrived.
Now if I can just get accepted to the first school of my choice.
But before I break out the Alice Cooper, I just want to reflect on what a great semester this was.
Firstly, my teacher was totally weird, and not in a "mad scientist Vincent Price" kind of way, but in a "Is he a student or a teacher?" kind of way. I'm serious, the first day I walked in, I saw him fiddling with the lights and almost told him to stop because only teachers could do that. I also had to learn to choose with caution which blouses to wear on lab days because he was so socially inept, he hadn't yet learned how to look down a woman's shirt without getting caught. I usually wear a camisole under my shirts anyway, but the look on his face when I'd catch him was priceless. The funny thing is that I think he also admired my intellect because when I would explain about something to my lab partners, he would stand close, and then when I was done, he'd say, "Wow, you are really learning this."
(I have HUGE breasts, so I'm used to both women and men looking down my blouse, and yeah it should bother me, but I think I've gotten to the point where it's just anatomy and I don't care any more. I mean, I seriously look down women's blouses myself, and have been prone to check out a man's butt a time or twenty, I think the trick is to do it with subtletey.)
(I mean, if you want to know how magnificent my rack is, I almost caused an accident once when I was at a strip mall and opened my hoodie to show my friend my new tankini top. It's there. You can't not look. The best thing to do is look and get it out of your system.)
Secondly, I loved lab. I read a blog the other day where someone was talking about how they were glad they never had to dissect anything, and I was like, "ooohhhh...but...but..."
The only thing we dissected was fruit in this class, but we did look at real skeletons that bothered a few people (both the males and the females).
I feel like I'm finally moving on to the stuff that will actually pertain to my major. I mean, math pertained to my major, but only in a roundabout way. This is my first actual science class, and I am so glad that this is what I have to look forward to the next two years. It is so fun to me, and challenging. I think I've finally arrived.
Now if I can just get accepted to the first school of my choice.
Friday, April 6, 2012
What we owe our furred and feathered friends
Today's Dear Abby upset me. A lady wrote in about her chihuahua because she can't decide if she should put him to sleep, or have him move to another state with her. Her reasoning was that he was old and she was worried that the change from Florida to New York would be too much for him. My first response was, "Dude, buy the dog a damn sweater and be done with it!" A few minutes later, I was thinking about how guilty she'd feel if the dog died in New York after only a few months of winter, but then I thought that she'd feel even guiltier if she were to put him to sleep now and then think about how much she missed him later.
The thing about animals is, that we're all they've got. We have jobs and hobbies and families and friends that take us out of the house every day, and while we're gone, our pets sit and wait for us to come home. When we do, they are excited, but I think a lot of people misinterperet their response to our homecoming. My guinea pigs would wheek for lettuce or a treat of some sort, my cat wants me to turn on the bathroom sink for him to drink, my bird wants me to chirp at him (he kisses, I kiss, etc. for several minutes...it's cute...), my brother's dog will grab one of your shoes and greet you with it (she never greets you empty-mouthed), and my grandparent's dog used to demand pets and loves, just like my old cat used to do. I think a lot of people think that pets do these things because they're treating us like their meal tickets or personal ear massage slaves, but the truth is that we've been gone for a long time, or you know, however long it takes to get the mail downstairs, but we've been gone. Your pet wants affirmation that you still love him. He wants those scratches, those kisses, that faucet turned on, because it shows him that you were not gone because he was a bad boy, but because you just had to go out for a while. You're good with each other, bro. Really.
It's really easy, when you're out until midnight with your bestie, watching the premier of the movie that you've been looking forward to for ages, to forget that your pet doesn't have that. Your pet is confined to the house and the garden/balcony/whatever outside place you have, and they have no friends of their own species to hang out with. When you leave, your cat is not going to go hit up the kitty across the way and have a cup of tea while discussing the current financial crisis. No, he goes and lays on your pajamas because they smell like you, and you are his god.
And someone is thinking of repaying this loyalty by putting him to sleep?
I put my last cat to sleep because of health problems. Her kidneys were failing, and there was nothing I could do, but I still wonder if there was something I could have done differently. Both of my guinea pigs died after long lives and plenty of love, and I still wonder if I could have done more for them.
Thank goodness that little hateful bird is still going strong. (I love you, Rain. You know it.)
Animals give us so much and they ask for so little in return. So what if your piggy wants a carrot every time you open the refrigerator door? You know it's not good for him, but you also know that you can pluck off a sprig of mint or basil and that will make him happy. So what if your cat wants you to take five seconds to give his head a pat when you walk through the door? Yes, you are tired and probably had a really bad day at work, but so did he if you think about it.
Think about it. They aren't stuffed animals, they are real, living beings, and they deserve our respect and love and consideration. They aren't disposable. You will never have another Whiskers, Woodstock, Rain, Chekhov or Oskar again. Give them a chance.
The thing about animals is, that we're all they've got. We have jobs and hobbies and families and friends that take us out of the house every day, and while we're gone, our pets sit and wait for us to come home. When we do, they are excited, but I think a lot of people misinterperet their response to our homecoming. My guinea pigs would wheek for lettuce or a treat of some sort, my cat wants me to turn on the bathroom sink for him to drink, my bird wants me to chirp at him (he kisses, I kiss, etc. for several minutes...it's cute...), my brother's dog will grab one of your shoes and greet you with it (she never greets you empty-mouthed), and my grandparent's dog used to demand pets and loves, just like my old cat used to do. I think a lot of people think that pets do these things because they're treating us like their meal tickets or personal ear massage slaves, but the truth is that we've been gone for a long time, or you know, however long it takes to get the mail downstairs, but we've been gone. Your pet wants affirmation that you still love him. He wants those scratches, those kisses, that faucet turned on, because it shows him that you were not gone because he was a bad boy, but because you just had to go out for a while. You're good with each other, bro. Really.
It's really easy, when you're out until midnight with your bestie, watching the premier of the movie that you've been looking forward to for ages, to forget that your pet doesn't have that. Your pet is confined to the house and the garden/balcony/whatever outside place you have, and they have no friends of their own species to hang out with. When you leave, your cat is not going to go hit up the kitty across the way and have a cup of tea while discussing the current financial crisis. No, he goes and lays on your pajamas because they smell like you, and you are his god.
And someone is thinking of repaying this loyalty by putting him to sleep?
I put my last cat to sleep because of health problems. Her kidneys were failing, and there was nothing I could do, but I still wonder if there was something I could have done differently. Both of my guinea pigs died after long lives and plenty of love, and I still wonder if I could have done more for them.
Thank goodness that little hateful bird is still going strong. (I love you, Rain. You know it.)
Animals give us so much and they ask for so little in return. So what if your piggy wants a carrot every time you open the refrigerator door? You know it's not good for him, but you also know that you can pluck off a sprig of mint or basil and that will make him happy. So what if your cat wants you to take five seconds to give his head a pat when you walk through the door? Yes, you are tired and probably had a really bad day at work, but so did he if you think about it.
Think about it. They aren't stuffed animals, they are real, living beings, and they deserve our respect and love and consideration. They aren't disposable. You will never have another Whiskers, Woodstock, Rain, Chekhov or Oskar again. Give them a chance.
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