Getting up for school was surprisingly easy. I anticipated much grumbling and kicking at the alarm clock and rolling back over under the covers, but since I've been forcing myself awake early the past two weeks, this week was cake. I got out of bed, only laying there twelve minutes after the alarm went off, and hopped in the shower. I had some yogurt and a glass of milk for breakfast, and packed some leftover pizza in a cooler for lunch. I knew I already had stir fry at work for dinner (I brought it in on Friday and didn't eat it) so I was all set.
Parking at IUS, especially when classes first start, is a total nightmare. After the first two or three weeks, though, people drop classes and just don't show up to as many classes and thus parking becomes less of a fuss. I trundled around and around the lots, looking for anyone leaving the buildings, eyeing them hungrily as they approached their cars, aiming to take their spot as soon as they vacated it. Finally, almost twenty minutes after arriving at campus, I found a spot.... on the clear opposite side of campus than my first class. And, continuing my streak of genius ideas, I wore a dress and heels to look sophisticated and nice on my first day back...
I regretted that decision halfway across campus. My feet were hurting and I considered taking my shoes off and strolling across the grass, but I held off because the pathway was actually a quicker route, and found my class. There weren't many seats left when I arrived, but I found one near the front, which is where I like to sit. I was sitting in the desk, arranging my things, putting my cell phone on silent mode, when I suddenly noticed something...
My stomach wasn't touching the front of the desk.
Last time I was in school, which was about a year ago, the desks were so very uncomfortable for me. But today, I sat in them easily, my ass fit on the seat without ballooning over the sides uncomfortably, and I had a good inch or two between my tummy and the desktop. I wanted to jump for joy, clap, whoop, and holler, but I just sat there, grinning to myself and giving myself an imaginary pat on the back.
The rest of my day went quite well! If you're curious, under the cut I'll impart the tale of the first two classes of this semester! :)
My first class of the day is L298, which covers English Literature from the 1600s to the 1800s. I enjoy dissecting and liberating ideas from literature, so I anticipate enjoying this class. The professor is a professor I have had before (for American Film Culture) and I enjoy him, despite his quirks and unnerving ability to put his students on the spot with random, unrelated questions. He reminds me so much of an English teacher I had in high school, who also taught me a semester of Mythology: Mr. Lambertus.
Mr. Lambertus, or Lambo as his students called him, was a complete nutcase. Ask any of his former students, and we'll tell you, the man has a few screws loose. But he was a phenomenal teacher. I think Professor Daly is quite the same. They both ramble into stories that have absolutely nothing to do with the material, and often get on political or religious tangents that could last the whole class. Students get frustrated with teachers such as Mr. Lambertus and Professor Daly because more often than not, they don't hand the answers to you in a pretty package tied with a bow. They make you fight to find the answer, they make you think to find the answer, they make you learn to find the answer.
It isn't about rehashing vocabulary terms from a book. These guys know how to make you think. And yes, it's quite uncomfortable at first, especially when he shouts your name from the front of the class wanting to know your opinion on how rock and roll got started when you were expecting to discuss Chaucer, but once you figure out his wacky mind's wacky rhythms... he's quite fun and entertaining. Ignore his jarring hatred of all things Democratic, and all things pertaining to America's school system, and don't take his opinions to heart, and once you wade through all that mess, you'll come out with more stuff lodged in your brain than you know what to do with.
I look forward to his class. Hopefully I can manage an "A" as I did in his American Film Culture class.
My second class was back on the other side of campus and after traversing to it, I had a moment to lounge and thumb through the school newspaper. It was interesting to learn that the last graduating class was the largest in my school's seventy year history. I wonder how large my graduating class will be. I should have graduated this year, but I'm a year behind... I could have been in that largest graduating class! But never mind, the important thing is that I'm back on track for my degree in English Writing and I will have it by at least 2013, if not 2012!
After wasting as much time as I could in the hallway with my school newspaper, I headed to my second class of the day: French F100. Now I took four years of French in high school, but that was four years ago. I haven't used any of my French since then, and I wasn't that fluent or agile at it back then. But I'm thankful for the basics Mr. Felix impressed upon me back then. They really came in handy when Monsieur Fortin popped up from his bureau and started spouting French at us. Somehow he honed in on me before anyone else in the class and said, "Bonjour! Je m'appelle Monsieur Fortin! Et vous?" To which I replied, without even THINKING about it: "Bonjour! Je m'appelle Gina." He was excited that I understood him and wasn't afraid to respond but he stumped me by saying, "Enchante!" For some reason, I was thinking it meant "welcome" when it actually means "Nice to have met you." Drat! I was doing so well!
I also equally impressed him by knowing how to refer to my fellow classmates in the proper manner. I introduced the girl next to me, before he explained to the class the proper way to do it: "Elle s'appelle Hope." I felt very smart, and it was fun to be refreshed in this language that I really do enjoy speaking and learning. I don't think I will be bored in this class, as I feared, because I do need refreshers on lots of things. But the great thing about Fortin's style is that he doesn't take the time to teach you word for word what you are saying. He teaches you the phrases and doesn't worry about you knowing that Je means "I", for example. He just wants you to know that "Je m'appelle..." means "My name is..."
That style of teaching is perfect for me, since I already know the basics and what most of the individual words mean. I feel bad for people who have never seen or heard French written or spoken before, because they may be a little lost. But his style works great for me and hopefully everyone can keep up because I could see myself getting annoyed if everything had to be slowed down and repeated for other people...
After class I went to my car and popped open my cooler to have my cold leftover pizza (WHAT WOULD THE FIRST DAY OF A COLLEGE SEMESTER BE WITHOUT COLD LEFTOVER PIZZA!?!?!? Un-American is what it would be, and I just can't do that!) and water. A nice breeze was blowing through my car and it was relaxing knowing that I had successfully survived my first day of my junior year in college.
Has your school started for the fall? Let me know how your first day was this semester!
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