Dr. Caduceus (Dr. Cadu for short and for the purpose of this blog) came in and impressed me the first words he spoke. I have no idea what they were at this point, but I was amazed. He spoke like a god, an utter wordsmith. I listened to him talk and found myself thinking this is exactly what a history graduate professor is like.
I introduced myself first out of everyone. I was right red. I know everyone saw me blushing, but I went on like a pro. An embarrassed pro. Dr. Cadu responded to my speciality with a tangential explanation of early 19th century coroners reports. I thought he would do it for everyone; he only did it for me.
I wish I had read more of the recommended readings, but I hadn't, so that was sucky. Six males dominated the conversation, mainly three, two of which were older and one younger, two of them being first-year incoming students in my class. It was frustrating and embarrassing and challenging and horrifying and simply invoking. I was determined to speak. I said something about a statement the author made in one of the articles (about Balinese cockfighting), I got a response from Applachia, another incoming student, and we went back and forth for a few seconds. I wouldn't realize until days later who he was, and then I was so relieved when I did figure it out. Dr. Cadu responded to my statement, not awesomely, but he did. Class adjourned. I ranted on the phone for an hour, went to my next class.
Teaching Assistant class: the instructor is a fifth year PhD student from Sweden. He seems nice but almost ignores me, and I wonder briefly if it's because I'm female. He starts everything to his right, who is a male, the PoliSci kid whose in a lot of our classes. The course seems simple enough. Good all around, glad it's with my incoming class and them alone. Nonetheless, until 7:40? Lord, I hope not.
**
I arrive before everyone else. I stare at the door. It is covered in the professor's name. No one else is there. I'm on the phone and have to hang up when my professor appears behind me without warning. The other TAs eventually come in. I listen intently, get the syllabuses. Strawberry comes in with Dusty Clay and Ye Xian,we all sit and pay attention to Dr. County.
Rick comes in late, but it's pretty apparent why: he hasn't navigated the wheelchair elevator thing much yet. We don't mind that he's late at all. Dr. County listens to his advice, we seem to possibly use it. We all split up and venture down a hill towards the giant student center where we'll have class. Strawberry goes far away from us to the other doors with some syllabus, I turn my syllabus over to Dusty Clay. Ye Xian moves around, holds open the door like me.
The students coming in are immense. So many people. So freaking young.
Class begins after some settling with the equipment. Somehow I become the technology girl over the next hour and a half. It breaks down a few times, I'm the only one who helps. Rick can't, obviously, and Strawberry, Dusty Clay, and Ye Xian stay up at the top of the class. Somehow I become the most assertive and most essential. Awesome.
Second class of the day is Theory, and it sucks. So hard. I do not want to read these books, and the talk is boring already. Dr. Plain wants to move classtime. We all freak out. Omg, no! I try and make an excuse for no Friday classes. Poor Rick has to commute so long, he gives an excuse for two days. We all are hoping and praying this shit remains the same time.
**
Dr. County, undeniably, is a good guy. Absent-minded but good. Unfortunately, I fall asleep during his lecture after we run through the syllabus. Lots of books to read here. Good God, save me from words and text this year, these six years.
**
I sit with Rick. I type my notes on my laptop. It works well.
I have to warn a student not to use her laptop. I feel somewhat insane but okay as I do this.
After class, I get my university card. It's baking here. I can feel my skin melting off my face.
**
Next four days are reading and writing my assignment. I do screw off on Friday somewhat and Saturday a lot, mainly to see my parents.
Today is their 29th anniversary. We celebrate with individual pieces of cake - chocolate for me, german chocolate for dad, and coconut cake for mom. She's restless and moves things around, cleaning up, to avoid passing out. Dad's briefly angry with me for not getting seasonal student tickets, but I'm glad because I don't want to go online. Still, we're all bondy and happy, and I miss them.
I edit my writing assignment, read one chapter for my class tomorrow, ignore my "Talking Shit About History" book due on Tuesday. So damn boring it hurts me personally.
**
Write in this blog.
