2nd day--oh the lessons

my notes from yesterday read like one long expletive, all aimed at: myself. in my first class it is due to the fact that i like to talk, i like to engage with the professor because he's so funny and because he is saying really interesting things and i like to make sure i am tracking with him because these first few lessons have been chock full of dense philosophical history of political science and it's kind of a mindscrew. anyway, so i talk. i'm thinking it may also be some sort of wellesley induced thing where i don't want it to be just the men who are speaking out in class because women for whatever reason do tend to quiet down in the presence of opinionated males. the problem is that sometimes i talk and i don't know what the F I am saying. As in, he asks rhetorical questions but he lets the end hang for so damn long that i find myself answering them to kleep the flow moving. So I sound like an assing moron. as linda way quoted from proverbs: even fools can sound wise when they are silent.

there is a great soundbite that i have to share with you all, though, that comes from the class in which i am an ass. our prof uses tons of examples to drill things into our heads. so he was talking about some kind pf preparation and he said "you know, we might make sure we have enough space between our fingers because, you know, if we have a penis competition we want to make sure we can hit all the notes!..." wtf??...ooooohhhh, pianist. so only me and the few girls next to me laughed really hard like 4th graders because of that. and then we bonded afterward over our love of the lowbrow humor. pianist is a tricky word. you might all want to practice right now just in case.

my post communist class expletives come from the fact that he assigned us a good 500 pages of reading, which is basically impossible if you have any other life, so i had to pick and choose and skim. well, you know how indiana jones chooses the cup of the carpenter and the knight says "you have chosen ..wisely" well, i was the guy who chose unwisely and ended up getting my skin sucked off my face and turning into dry bones in 2 minutes. i chose to read all the books he assigned...he focused on the articles and one of the books. that was nice. there are only 8 peoplke in this class, so if you havent read carefully you really cant run and hide, you just have to say "i don't know" to his face when he asks you a question. that's fun. yeah, so apparently he assigned us this assing Putin book for shits and giggles. yep, we werent going to talk about it. just read it for fun in addition to the effing communist manifesto and commie theses we were assigned. grrr. fie on you. of course, it seemed like a few of us were in the same boat, i hope he wasnt vastly disappointed.

oh, but what am i going on about...there was definitely some good to be gleaned from that class, like the fact that our prof is this very vigorous, healthy russian male who compares all good things to sex. ie, charismatic time, which is basically transcendent time, eternal time, something that connects you to a greater whole; rational time is the clock, traditional time is like sun up sun down of olden days, and charismatic is the time over and above. yeah, so he's like "charismatic time...is like after you've had GREAT sex and you are walking down the beach with your loved one, it could be day or night or afternoon, you dont care!" and then in describing a theoretical stage "it's like the moment of anticipation right before..well, you know, before the act of love." the act of love. so smarmy!! so now all of soviet history is just an analogy for sex. thrilling. he also had a great story about the early days when they were trying to stimulate the economy, but the famed russian textile machine was only putting out like 3/4 of a yard of fabric per person. just enough to make for every citizen some tie-on speedos they had in the early days of russia. we all enjoyed the speedo quote. they were made of some kind of satin-like material and tied at the side with ribbons=--skin showing, oh la la.

well, better luck next week, i guess. argh. just got the shaft from yet another job. sadness.