I wish I had a cool name like Rhianon.

I am here to announce to you all that:
I am a psychic.

It's only the first day of class and I can already tell you what my grade in Pre-Calculus Algebra will be.

Oh yea, I said it: Pre-Calculus Algebra. Wtf is that shit anyway?! You get to pick ONE mathematical discipline for the name of your class. Two divisions of math in the title DOES NOT give you the right to make your class twice the pain in my ass that it already is, got it?! I am so going to fail...

I wasn't in the room for fifteen minutes before I was wondering what class I should replace this one with and if I could still squeeze all my credits in before 1:00pm... Then Rhianon gives me her big brown puppy eyes and a "don't leave me in this Hell hole alone" look. While I only feel mildly guilty about being ready to abandon my friend who bent over backwards to take philosophy with me this term, I know that most of the classes I'm eligible for will be full by now.

She humors me though, and we go check out which courses are still open. I get her "I told you so" grin when nothing but Biology 3 (Wtf is Biology 3?! Where does my school get this shit?!) comes up on my search for classes with open seats.

I don't want to loose my hard-ass edge by letting Rhianon think I'm staying in the class just for her so I complain that I don't want to take independent photography this term (Nicki can back me up: Independent photography was my all time favorite class in high school) so I'll just have to stick with math.

She thanks me. She thanks me. I should be thanking Rhianon. Sure, she reminds me of my little sister like crazy, which in itself attaches me to her but... She's one of the first people in over two years that I can really, genuinely admit to liking. She's a cool, smart girl. I love how shy she is because I feel like I make her have fun when I pull her out of her shell. And she balances my dramatic personality well. Everything she is good at, I'm not (drawing, math, being on time to class). Everything I am good at, she isn't (philosophy, public speaking, being an outright bitch). Aside from all the nice things I can say about her on paper, she has this x-factor that just makes me want to run up to her and say "I like you so much! Be my friend!"

It's a good feeling to connect with someone like that. I think she views me in the same way. We are just too new to one another to jump to conclusions, ya know? I haven't wanted someone to be my buddy like this since freshman year of high school...

If you happen to bump into Rhianon, don't tell her that I'm braving this damn math class just so I can hang out with her more. I can't have anyone (including myself) knowing/understanding that I want this friend (not A friend but THIS friend) so badly.

I hope I become that kind of mean teacher that students love...

I survived the first day of class at Columbia College with a splitting headache, courtesy of the sleeping pill I thought would be such a great idea last night. Thanks a lot, modern medicine.



My women's studies class won't be as much of a man bashing class as I'd hoped. Everyone seems really down to earth so I guess that means I'm going to miss out on the experiences I've heard about symbolic bra burning in higher education. Damn.



My English class is going to be as painful as expected. I'm (clearly to all reading my blog) a little rusty when it comes to writing. We wrote a practices essay and while my teacher smiled and said "Your style is good but grammar needs a little work," I took her grimace to mean "Girl, you don't know a period from a hole in your..."



Philosophy was nice. The teacher's introduction included asking students to silently answer questions such as "Do you believe in God/afterlife/evil?" Then telling the class to please leave these personal beliefs at the door when coming into classroom discussions. "We are not here to attack, defend, or promote our personal religions, just to discuss philosophy and different ways of thinking presented by different religious beliefs." I appreciated that. It had the familiar ring of Pressman's intro to biological anthropology... Those days seem so long ago...



Last but not least, history: he promised we won't have to memorize too many dates. From the syllabus and his little "please don't drop out of my class yet" shpeel, the course sounded to me more like a history/historical anthropology class. Praise heaven, because I had just been telling my boyfriend that I wished I'd picked a couple more major-specific (or at least not boring as hell) classes to keep my interests piqued during the first term. Aside from that, the teacher had a decent enough sense of humor and asked an English major what she "planned to do with (her) pre-unemployment degree?" The girl looked pissed, but I got a kick out of it. I mean seriously! You're an English major! You're going to need a sense of humor in order to not snap!



Well, I'm off to go read pages 15-27 of my Using Sources Effectively book.



I know.



You're jealous, try to contain it.