I really hate amusement parks. The bathrooms are disgusting, the rides make me sick, and something about seeing people in plush cartoon costumes makes me uneasy. I figure that’s how some people feel about the first week of school, which is my version of walking through the gates of Disney World and getting in line for Space Mountain.
School is the worst, but that first week when you have all new classes is AWESOME. You get to memorize a new schedule, read a bunch of syllabi, and buy all new supplies. Nothing gets me hot and bothered like color-coordinating my notebooks with my folders. PLUS, you get all new teachers and classmates.
Most of my professors seem all right. I have one I can tell I’m NOT going to get along with, though. She’s just soooooo corny. She embellishes every joke with a wink, or mimes laughing by throwing her head back and moving her shoulders rapidly up and down. She puts everything in air quotes. “Feminism,” she will spit. “Gender theory,” ho ho, eye-roll. Also, when she found out that one of the students in our class is an exchange student, she started speaking much louder and asking excessively if he understood. The guy would respond with a polite “Yes, of course.”
Otherwise, everything is peaches and cream. Thursday was fun, I think. My Art History & Poetry class went to the museum to see a Carrie Mae Weems retrospective. I tried to stay sane as kids snickered at this one photo of Weems masturbating. (Like, sexually graphic things aren’t unfunny, but they’re not funny, either.) Or they would respond to everything the guide asked us with “I think it has to do with identity,” even when it totally didn’t. That was only a few students, though, and we were later allowed to roam about in order to write an ekphrasis for our first class assignment. That was nice.
I don’t usually spend nights at home, but I did this weekend, and partied pretty hard. I watched Top Chef in my parents’ bed with my brother and dad. Then my brother and I got ice cream and chilled outside. We talked about boys and whether or not it would be cute for a boy you were with to pee on you. The final verdict: yes, if you’re in the shower. (Also, it would be very cute/sexy if you and your lover peed yourself at the same time. Like, if you were snuggling and didn’t want to get up, and you both peed your pants.)
So I guess this was a pretty good week. It feels good to go from having nothing to do to having work again. ♦