I believe that if you're in the midst of schooling of any kind, at any level, any class you're taking can turn into a stand up comedy act. There's always going to be someone stupid in your class, always someone that has some bizarre quirk, etcetera, etcetera. (That looks weird spelled out, I don't know why I wrote it like that)
This afternoon's act revolves around a course I'm taking called Latin Letters, in which we translate...letters written in Latin.
The class is being taught by the teacher I had for Latin III last semester and that I have for Latin IV this semester. Last semester when he mentioned the Letters course, he made it out to sound simple and that it would give us extra practice in Latin. He's such a filthy liar.
The crap we have to translate? Sucks. That's not even the worst part though. The worst part is that the class is a mixture of students still in Latin IV with me and grad students. The Latin IV Outlaws, as I've affectionately dubbed us, are still kinda green when it comes to this whole "speaking and translating Latin" business. The teacher knows this, as he was with us for all of last semester, some of us even longer. I mean, it's not like we're totally clueless, but we're not exactly fluent either. Meanwhile, The Grad Student Pompous Assholes Who Need a Good Bitch Slap, as I've not-so-affectionately dubbed them, roll their eyes whenever Professor Clueless of the Divisions in the Class calls on one of the Outlaws and we inevitably take 5-10 minutes struggling through whatever line we have to translate (or, if you're like me, sit there not saying ANYTHING for 10 minutes as you stare in wide eyed horror at the paper in front of you while your useless brain draws a total blank) (SHUTUP! I DON'T DO WELL UNDER PRESSURE).
My least favorite player on the Grad Student Pompous Assholes Who Need a Good Bitch Slap team is this one girl, Ori. First of all, just the name is awful. Ori. Oar-e. Oooooooooorrrrrrriii. I mean, get a real name, right? It doesn't matter, I just call her ass anyway (what? It's a term of endearment). She's always asking these infuriating obscure questions about grammar, like "so (so and so word) is a past jussive reflective indicitive gerund participle bananarama HEY! Macarena infinitive subjunctive, RIGHT?" She stopped the class so many times to ask questions like this bullshit that I've become convinced she's just doing it to show that she knows all the parts and we dont so neener neener neener. And then when Professor Clueless of the Divisions in the Class, who by the way, while not as charming or attractive as The Latin Teacher Who, Though I No Longer Pine For, Am Still Not Totally Over Yet from The College That Shall Not Be Named, is still a good teacher and who has been speaking Latin for so long that I wouldn't be surprised if he actually was a Roman that just never died and is cursed to teach Latin for all eternity and is actually I guess pretty highly regarded in the Classics world, attempts to explain to her that no, the word is actually a past indicitive weak future hortatory prepositional phrase supercalifragilisticexpialidocious shake it like a Polaroid picture subjunctive, she'll spend 20 minutes arguing in which she'll repeat what she said she thought it was when she initially asked the question about 79 times and extremely rudely interrupt Professor Clueless as he attempts, in vain, to tell her, AGAIN, that NO, she's wrong. When she got around to about the 35th question of this type, I had to bite my tongue to not just snap at her, "NO. Actually, what the word translates to is SHUT THE FUCK UP BEFORE I THROW MY SHOE AT YOU YOU PRETENTIOUS BITCH." Not a big fan of hers, is what I'm saying.
There's no point to this entry, just one of my many rants. I feel better now. Thanks for listening.

0 comments so far
<< & >>