And They Call This Grad School?*

* First, a shoutout to A of A'n'AA, who suggested both a title for this particular diatribe and reminded me, as I stood for an HOUR in a line at Best Buy at 8pm on a Tuesday night to PICK UP the Dance Dance Revolution and PS2 that I'd ordered on-line for my godforsaken classroom in order to avoid lines at Best Buy [Visualize: well-intentioned Best Buy employee repeatedly and quizzically digging through cabinet designated for On-line orders... all 20 of them, while Yours Truly says things in the background to her like... I'm pretty sure it is that PS2 on the shelf. The only PS2 there. That PS2... until she puts her hand on the PS2 box for the 50th time and says, 'Oh hey. I think it is this one. Was it a PS2?' and Yours Truly responds by slowly exhaling and bringing one finger to her eyelid, which has taken to uncontrollably twitching], that the beauty of my f#&@ed up life is that these blogs pretty much write themselves. Ode to joy.

But believe it or not, she was not referring to the particular pain of mass consumerism in the form of Best Buy. She was instead speaking to the commencement of a certain illustrious grad school institution's Spring Semester.

But prior to such unfortunate event recounting, and because I like to pretend to be a positive person for at least one minute every day, allow me to point out what has gone well this week (which is only two days old, really):

(1) I enjoyed the ever-pleasurable dinner company of S and J, and I am still enjoying the residual taste-memory of the sucking down of the most divine, airy, fresh from the oven, steaming lemon pudding cake formed in the hands of J, dinner co-host, former pants-suit wearing 70s housewife extraordinaire, and teacher of such gradient phrases as "girl, girlina, girltressa" and

(2) I survived the first night of class(es) by pondering this same host's livid distain for the phrases "garden vegetables" and "all-new episode," which thankfully caused my brain to pause and even stall.

On the other hand, what's gone less well this week? The start of Spring Semester.

All the classes I am to take all take place on Tuesday. Which could be good, right? Except they actually all take place atop each other like a mosaic, or a slimy mass of paper mache.

And because the Human Subjects Committee has thusfar not approved my field study research topic, I have been frozen from electronically adding classes.... except, weirdly, Ballroom Dancing (a General Ed class which couldn't possibly count towards my Masters, no matter how nuanced my mastery of bullshit is).

Thus I am required by this computer/bureaucracy mayhem to attend all of the "hoped for" classes, in the hopes that eventually, before the end of the Add period, I will be able to Add at least one class that remotely functions for what I need.

And on top of it, it's spring in the Sunset. Which of course means it is really fuckin cold the first night of class(es).

But I am not bitter, mostly because there are only a few things I can be bitter about at once [and I hadn't even gotten to Best Buy yet at that point in the evening]. I never was a great multi-tasker. A beginner but not ender of stuff? Yes. Good at that. But multi-tasker? Not so much. But enough asides.

My Tuesday night options:

1. Creative Short Story Construction One Class:
Listed time of class: 4:10-6:55pm.

My arrival time: 4pm.

Sighting and subsequent ignoring of 19 year old Drunken Ducky Writing Student from last spring's writing class [see previous blog entries on dating avoidance]: 4:15pm.

Arrival time of teacher: 4:25pm.

Weird teacher mannerisms: Various dropping of pens and pencils and books of teacher by teacher from 4:26 - 4:34 pm.

Final name called from roll: 4:50.

Stated Verdict: “There is no fucking way you are going to get in. Good fucking luck."

Departure time: 4:51pm.

2. Stress Management and Relaxation Techniques and Theories Class:
Listed time of class: 4:10-6:55pm.

My arrival time: 4:56pm.

Arrival time of teacher: Unknown.

Final name called from roll: Unknown.

Weird teacher mannerisms [See below]: 4:56pm - 5:11 at least.

PhD [to class]: “Feel free to do all 15 weeks homework, reading, and writing and take the two exams and be done with this class within the next two weeks, email it all to me and we never see you again. I invite you.”

Me: [Chin on Floor]

Another Student: “Can I still get an A like that?”

PhD [to class]: “Yes.”

A third student: "And we wouldn't have to do any group projects?"

PhD [to class]: “You'd become groups of one. You'd email me. No presentation. You'd just do the group project with you to me."

Me: [Chin on Floor]

SEVERAL MINUTES LATER...

PhD [In midst of Power-Point beginning lecture to class]: “Remember, the speed of thought is faster than the speed of life.”

SEVERAL MINUTES LATER...

PhD [to class]: "You will need two textbooks. They each cost approximately $100. They are not available used, nor have I put copies of them on reserve in the library. There is a lot of reading. A lot of worksheets. A lot of quizzes to prove you read. Everything will be on ilearn. There will be no exchanging of paper. There WILL be an overwhelming amount of work. This is a class to learn diverse techniques to reduce and manage stress. Now everyone stand up and extend your left large toe." [PhD proceeds to lead us through a stretch activity that ends in us collectively spiritually and physically hurling our stress out the door of the classroom.]

Me: [Experience backflashes to singing I am an Artist I am a Healer. The PTSD begins to set in, resulting in cold sweats.]

ONE MINUTE THAT FEELS AN ETERNITY LATER...

PhD [to class, prior to returning to Power Pointing the class to less stress]: "People drop this class not because of the work. No. It is because they fear facing themselves."

Me [to self]: Uh-huh. Not because he is very very scary. No comment.

Stated Verdict: ["Danny isn't here anymore, Mrs. Torrance"]

Departure time: 5:11pm.


3. Ballroom Dancing (the ONLY option for an evening dance class, FYI):
Listed time of class: 5pm - 6:55pm.

Arrival time of the 80 students trying to take the class: Unknown.

My arrival time: 5:17pm.

My name called from roll: 5:18pm.

Weird teacher mannerisms: Teacher makes comments that involve showing us moves and then saying, "Well, if you find yourself getting all twisted up in the other person's arms, you can either let go and start over or you can..." and proceeds to give us this convoluted explanation of throwing our legs over eachother's clasped hands in a pair-version of THE HUMAN KNOT teambuilder. Such comments turn out to be jokes, as far as I can tell. Dry Dance Teacher Humor. Which of course results in half the class grinning weakly while shaking their heads while the other half of the class, the Earnest Beginners Circle upon whom Dance Teacher Humor is utterly lost, furtively and continually attempt such unbecoming gymnastics. Sporatically from 5:29 - 6pm, as we hurl each other about like untrained monkeys around the room.

Dismissal of class: 5:54pm.

Sighting of and Chatting with My Own Former Students who turn out to be in this class: 5:55pm.

Stated Verdict: "Can I somehow argue to my advisor that the presence of former students from my work somehow legitimates the connection of this class to my Master's work? Hmmmm. Let me ponder that."

Departure time: 6:02pm.

4. Poetry Creation Two Class:
Listed time of class: 4:10 - 6:55.

My arrival time: 6:18pm.

Arrival time of teacher: Unknown.

Weird teacher mannerisms: Unknown.

Final name called from roll: Unknown.

Stated Verdict:

Prof - "And you are...?"

Me - "The writer of that little yellow note you are holding in your hand." [Which explained my situation rather cryptically and yet in long-hand to her in her mailbox at the Creative Writing Dept. Office the previous week because the dept secretary refused, I mean refused, to cough up an email address or office hours for anyone in the dept.]

Prof - "So you are not a creative writing major, 2006 was your Year of Mediocre Poetry Creation, and though you weedled your way into a creative writing class last year, you have never actually taken Poetry Creation One?"

Me - "I didn't realize that was a prerequisite."

Prof - "Huh. I guess that was not clear. Well, the class is full, but there is no waiting list, so I will contact you if someone drops out." [Subtext: There is no fucking way you are going to get in. Good fucking luck.]

Me - "I will look forward to hearing from you."

Departure time: 6:21pm.

Eating of falafel before heading to stand in line at Best Buy for an hour: 6:24pm.

Welcome back, dear friends. It is going to be a long spring.