summer school = torture.

i'm taking both american history and american literature for the summer semester. i figure it made sense because then i could basically use the knowledge attained from american history to better understand the social aspects of the stuff in american literature.

the first day in the american history class, i'm pleasantly taken aback by the instructor. she's a petite blond, young and enthusiastic. and she told us immediately that if we were in her class to learn about the history of only dead white men, we should drop her class. i couldn't stop grinning! she hasn't disappointed, either. while school only started this week, she has already put a decidedly world view to the way in which she teaches her course. she's basically teaching it with an emphasis on how history unfolded and how it shaped the sexual, racial, and cultural drama of today. i'm friggin diggin this class.

on the other side of the coin is the fucking yawner from my american literature class. she's also a petite blond who's young. turns out she's also someone who is already addicted to the sound of her own voice. all she does is talk, talk, talk. rarely does she engage the class participants or ask us how we interpret stuff. she spends half the damn class explaining the definition of terms everyone in the class already know. this isn't a class of freshman fillies, scratching our heads trying to figure out what a metaphor is, but that didn't stop her from spending ten minutes of a three hour lecture defining the word.

for goodness sakes, the creature actually read us an elementary-level book on colonial life, complete with kiddie illustrations. i kept closing my eyes and wishing a gunman would burst into the room and shoot me. i would have wished for her to be shot, but that would mean i'd have to deal with her incessant babbling in hell (cuz we all know i ain't goin to heaven and her fucking torture of a lecture guarantees her a place right next to satan himself). it got so bad that at one point i raised my hand just so another voice could break through the cloying air of the sounds coming from her mouth. it took everything in me not to yawn loudly before grabbing my shit and bouncing, right in the middle of her droning. afterwards, all i wanted to do was take a shower and wash myself of her lecture that had leeched itself to my skin and sucked out every last drop of enthusiasm i ever had for the written word.

pray for me. she's rather small and i really could strangle her with no problem.