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Apologies and Crudeness

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I know, I know, I haven’t posted all week.  I’ve barely begun this blog, and have already fallen into slackerdom.  I’m DEEPLY surprised, because that’s TOTALLY not how I approach every other area of my life.  I am a paragon of enthusiasm and commitment.  Honestly, sometimes I lie awake at night because I am so excited about everything I have promised to do.

The end of my nose just collided with the computer screen.  And here I promised myself I wouldn’t tell lies on this blog.  For shame.  For double shame!

In my defense, I really have been spending every spare moment with my dad.  I even stayed at home this week, instead of at my dorm, in order to get maximum Quality Time.  I am such a dutiful daughter!

This was the first hit I got on Google Images when I searched for "dutiful daughter."

We’re planning a trip to the United Kingdom this summer, and I am so excited I really am having trouble sleeping.  I have wanted to visit the U.K. since I discovered Harry Potter at eight years old.  That’s eleven years!  Now, as a college student, I am majoring in history, with a concentration in British history.  Some people describe themselves as Anglophiles, but I can’t really bring myself to do that.  Despite my somewhat serious interest in the history of the British Isles, most of the British things I love are kind of stupid.  So I prefer the more forgiving term “dork.”

British slang is legitimately the dog’s bollocks, though.

[/Seinfeld monologue]

Anyway, I’m a lazy person and it’s late, so I’ll just leave you with a charmingly short narrative about my brilliant Health and Exercise professor, who may actually be insane.

Students at CCU are required to take the course, which is nothing more than glorified P.E., in order to graduate.  In principle, I think it’s a good idea.  It is important for anyone to understand the basics of taking care of their body, and if people are going to end up paying around $160,000 to graduate from CCU, they’d damn well better be able to get a long lifetime’s worth of use out of that degree.  If you have a college degree, you really have no excuse for not understanding why hydrogenated oils are bad for you.

However, as I have just stated, I am a lazy person.  I also really, really like cake, cookies, doughnuts, muffins, brownies, and any other baked good with copious amounts of fats and refined sugars.  I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, and I drive like a granny, so give me a break!  There are worse vices I could have than one that just makes my thighs wobbly.  But to hear the man I fondly call Dr. Dipshit talk, I am setting myself up for a lifetime of pain, misery, and obesity, as well as an early death, every time I eat half of a Swiss Cake Roll.  This would irk me even if he were an otherwise perfect man.  But he’s about as close to perfect as I am to  mathematical genius.

One of his favorite things to do is rag on students for being obsessed with texting and Twitter, as if our generation’s bizarre and evil habits are going to be the death of us and the rest of the human race.  Every time he does this, I am impressed all over again by his maturity and worldly wisdom.  He is clearly the product of a golden age, long before the high-tech scourge was visited upon our land—

Oh, wait.  He’s 35.

He seems to think that anyone who has ever eaten a hot dog is personally responsible for his father’s untimely death at 57 from congestive heart failure.

He pauses class to yell at anyone who comes in late, even though our classroom is on the opposite side of campus from everything else.

He “helps” the ultra-flexible Volleyball player (who once exclaimed that she “HATES IT!” when people bigger than her beat her in half-marathons) stretch in the gym.

And he SLURPS when he talks.  Incessantly.

“Did you know that (shllllp) scientists predict that this generation of kids, (sssslup), your generation, is the first generation in ALL OF HUMAN HISTORY (sluuurpppppt) with a SHORTER LIFE EXPECTANCY THAN ITS PARENTS (SLLURRRUPRPTHTRFHRRRP)?!?”

I’ve met Saint Bernards who drooled less than he does.

Obviously he is cracking up.  All of the signs are there:  excessive sweating (and spitting), a short temper, and a case of Daddy Issues so huge it’s no wonder he’s obsessed with working out—it must take a lot of strength to carry those around with him.  Also, he is a WASPish-looking, successful-seeming smartypants and family man.  As we all know, those are always the first to snap.

Last week, I wrote an essay for him in which I joked, “the terrorists will not win if we take a little time for ourselves out of our days.”  I was talking about the problem of obesity in America.  He underlined it and wrote, “Who are the terrorists in your argument?”

And on Monday, he spent the entire 50-minute class lecturing with an enormous booger hanging out of his nose.

I, on the other hand, would know nothing about being insane.

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Written by Estie

March 20, 2010 at 5:47 am

Posted in Uncategorized

One Response

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  1. You know, insanity and genius are separated by a thin line, which it appears your professor may have stepped over. Not that you have anything to worry about. Wearing a Viking cap while making a silly face is normal in college, as is wearing a Russian drinking cap while doing shots of vodka….not that I would know anything about the latter.

    Literary Dreamer

    March 22, 2010 at 5:21 pm


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