It looks like this semester will happen now. My first semester of full humanities and, to tell the truth, this fact makes me quite apprehensive. Sciences I know and understand the method of studying, while English, though my forte, remains a mystery. I attended my first two classes, even managing to drag myself out of bed at 6.59 to catch the 8.00 shuttle. This makes me feel confident that this feat is not physically impossible and thus may actually be replicate-able as well. I’d like to say right now that the most thrilling part of the whole day was twice having the name Kathleen Ferguson called out during roll right near the beginning of the list and realising that was MY name. COOL!!
Intro to Sociology: the professor immediately annoyed me. She’s short, named Tennenbaum or some such, has terribly done curly hair, and is obviously exceedingly opinionated. Right off she stated that she was hard-nosed; she gave us a long and dusty rundown of the last 10 years of her teaching career; explained why she chose every book; announced that the vast majority of the readings were actually in a packet which we could purchase from Curry Printing at Clark (or we could go to the Reserves desk nearly every day and make copeis ourselves. I opted to buy the packet for $17.50 – it would have been about $13 for copying from Reserves but I’m willing to pay the extra $4.00 for the convienence); explained that, though this wasn’t a VE (verbal expression)-credited class, she would emphasize clarity and quality of writing by assigning 3 essays, each worth 25% of our grade; and ended by assigning us to read a whole book for next week. The entire point of today’s class was for her to force us to scrutinize the syllabus. Thrilling. Also I would like to lodge a complaint with whoever designed Johnson Academic Building because the classrooms are hidden in deep dark corners that leave one feeling rather like you’ve wandered into the Minotaur’s maze and, if you take a wrong turn, will be quickly and gladly gobbled up. Synopsis: lots of reading, possibly interesting, while the lectures will be sheer torture. Hopefully I will be able to report back and modify this assessment.
Major British Writers II: No, I never took Major British Writers I; the plan is to take that next year first semester. This class is taught be a guy who calls himself “Dr. Lou Bastien,” wears all black – black jeans, black shoes, rather too-tight black shirt tucked in to emphasize his gut and scrawny arms – and sports thinning hair past his shoulders, a balding spot, and shiny reflective sunglasses perched to hold back the hair. He evidently loves to talk, especially make jokes, at which he and he alone laughs. Classes tend to act fairly reserved at Clark. He also motions with his hand quite often, folding his thumb and two middle fingers over and waving his hand around theatrically. He also speaks in short bursts, phrases really, and also breathes oddly – also in short but noticeably audible bursts, now that I think about it. At least this was in a room I knew, JC 218, the room Geology was supposed to have taken place in, though we ultimately met next door in JC 220. This class looks to be a great deal of reading, though he’s split the grades up into two exams and two short 6 – 8 page essays. Synopsis: lots of reading of 19th Century poetry, which will be awful, while lectures are liable to be notes-light and full of doodles. Again I hope to report back in a couple weeks that in fact I find lectures thrilling and informative and cannot wait to attend each section.
Today I spent the time between classes with Kristin. Actually saw her! I can verify that she’s alive and pretty much exactly the same as always. We did not talk about her boyfriend, William; during autumn we had a falling-out over the wisdom of her allowing him to seduce her. However, Kristin fed me on Clark food for lunch today (really good fries, believe it or not) while we burned an hour in Casey’s company, and let me fall asleep on her floor for a while, and suggested I spend the night with her occasionally, on what would be my early mornings, for company and to save me time. I like this idea.
I want to apologise for my “Trouble” entry. Mom took me down a notch or two that night on the phone, reminding me that it wasn’t fair of me to ask for help from my friends (especially if I was simply going to refuse it), that it was shoving responsibility onto others, and that I would be a much stronger and happier person if I could force myself to eat normally without goading from others. I’d already gotten an email from Deborah, which was a great deal more tactful but still: “I see from your blog that you seem to be asking for help. I know people offering to feed you doesn’t really help but what else can they do. They are trying to offer support If there is something specific they can do for you, let them know. It’s hard for people to hear you’re suffering and then have you be so cold to their offers of help.” After reading that, a very strong statement from one of Ian’s family members, and then having my ear scorched by Mom, I’ve had to seriously think about the wisdom of the “Trouble” post. My general decision comes to this: I thank you, everybody, for your concern and I extend my apologies for being cruel if that has occurred. I mean to hurt nobody, and though I can’t say disregard the post – and I refuse to take it down, for the truth IS the truth – please don’t let it concern you unduly. The ability of anybody to do approximately nothing is difficult: I know that I can’t handle this alone, but my friends – you – aren’t the people to help me. Only God is strong enough to take all our pain and I cannot ask anybody else to help me bear my burden. Again, God alone can heal me emotionally and physically; no number of food offers, however well intentioned, can bring me to normalcy. So please accept my apologies for being, as usual, a complete idiot by choosing the most unfair and unreasonable arena for expressing my emotions.
However, now I’ve been home for an hour and have spent the whole time working on this blog and watching Jess play Mars Rover and Polar Bowler. However, I think I’ll begin reading Kai Erikson’s thriller “Everything In Its Path” along with Joel M. Charon’s suspense drama “The Meaning of Sociology: A Reader”. Maybe if I’m lucky the hot water heater will produce a warm, comfy bath for me to enjoy along with these gripping novels.
– KF –
P.S. – here’s another fascinating idea from Toyota. I wonder if it actually works the way it ought to?
46 days to Ian