Tuesday, July 18, 2006

like a $.99 sponge, we are all so self-absorbed

Last night was the first night that my actual professor was in class. Third class and she shows up. 'Bout time. I mean, $900.00 damn it! I want my freakin' professor!

I mean, I drive 80 miles, two hours, I've managed to go the wrong way down two different one-way streets. I've driven in sheets 'o rain, hail, thunder, and lightning, but nothing could stop me from getting to my class. So, where the hell was she?!?!?!?

Everyone (all three people) who I had told my gripes and complaints to, backed me up on this. I was irritated and irritable. She had better be in class. That's all I'm sayin'. She had better be there when I get to class.

Seeing as how I managed to be late the last two times to class due to construction, the weather, driving the wrong way down the one-ways (twice) (two different streets) I left my house extra special early. Mumbling a few times silently to myself in-between song lyrics that I was singing, oh, so prettily along with, 'she had better be there.'

I get to class. I get a better seat than last time. I'm between the Token White Guy and the 1989 Metal Mullet Guy.
Oh, we're talkin' full on metal mullet. All business in the front and party in back, I'm a heavy metal rock god, mullet. Complete with 1989 Bill Gates glasses. I leave a few chairs between he and I. Last time I sat across the room from him and he made weird eye movements the whole time. Not in a, 'I think you're so hot and I want to make sweet, sweet love to you,' kind of way. No, it was in a, 'Please, join me and my three close friends back in my dorm room so we can talk about UFO's and government conspiracy,' kind of way. So, two seats between us I sat.

Then there is this incredibly self-absorbed lady. I sat next to her last time. Not by choice. She went on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on...(are you getting the idea?) about moving and her kids and her job and her life and her lost paper and making copies of the paper and she couldn't find the damn paper and well, she could just pull the paper up on her laptop and oh, have I mentioned about moving and how hectic my life is?!?!?!?!? Oh, yeah. By the way I already have a B.A. and a Master's..blah, blah, blah.

Wow, can you see my eyes glaze over in the fact that I don't care? My thought? Rip off my skin and roll me in rock salt because it would be less painful.

Unedgumacated Lady. I'm not sure if she's just dumb or racist or both.

Oh, but wait, this was about being self-absorbed. Back to the title at hand. Something about a .$99 sponge. As in a dishwashing sponge, not a birth control one. Ha, stopped the jokes in their tracks.

So, professor was there last night. I have the attitude of, 'okay, so where ya been?'
Then she tells us she has had major surgery. She doesn't say what kind of surgery and well, the 'major' part of the sentence is good enough for me.

I'll accept it.

See, this is why I don't go off on people. Why I don't yell and scream and holler or rant and rave. Why? Because on the very few exceptions when I have done this it always, without fail, comes back to bite me in the ass and make me look like an ass. So. I don't do it. Like that time when I finally lost my patience and cool with the landlady because my window was still broken after a year and half (no, shit) and after many cool calm and collected complaints, I finally went off? Only to have her tell me that on the way to the hospital because her dad had a stroke, her brother ran over the family dog. Then because he was so torn up about running over, Fido he then in turn had a heart attack, so the dad, brother and Fido were all in the hospital therefore, she couldn't be bothered with my window? (Okay, made that whole thing up) But the landlady did raise her voice at me and I somehow managed to feel like an ass for actually leaving an irate message, you know, after a year and half, therefore, I just don't complain. Always bites me in the ass.

Wait, there was a point to this post. What was it again? Oh, about being all self-absorbed or something. If I add an 'ed' to the end, is that a word? Well, it is today.

Okay, so the lady in class, the one who went on and on and on and on and on (much like I am in this post) about her moving, lost papers, computer not being set up, three kids, boxes, laptops, running here and there and on top of it all taking this class and getting her homework done, that lady? Yeah, so after the instructor told us about her major surgery (I'm guessing it had something to do with a cancer treatment. Just a guess, but I have a feeling I'm right) the self-absorbed lady went on and on and on again. I couldn't believe it. The nerve. I mean seriously. Stop thinking of yourself. Get out of your own life and house and boxes and look at our poor professor who came into class when she should still, clearly, be at home. So, yeah. That lady, she made me think of a crappy $.99 sponge. A sponge that talks about it's absorbing power, but really it just drips water when you pick it up and try to actually see what it's made of.


Joefish said...

Would you be open to long winded discussions of UFOs and government conspiracies with 1989 Metal Mullet Guy (who is my hero, by the way) if those conversations took place somewhere like a café?

Egan said...

It sure does pay to reserve judgement in most situations. Glad you didn't put your foot in your mouth. It's not so tasty.

puerileuwaite said...

UFOs and government conspiracies get me hot! Talk nerdy to me, PG!

Or, consider introducing Mullet Man to The Attention Sponge.

Problem solved.

Bre said...

Just don't go drinking any Kool Aid he offers you!

Party Girl said...

Joe: Is there a four foot bong involved?

Eh, that's okay. I'll still discuss any and all over a coffee, beer, table, couch, floor, rug, chair, phone.

As long as the discussion is open and fun, non-jugmental and everyone can be open and honest, I'm all for it. Please, by all means, let's discuss.

I think UFO's do exist and there is life on other planets, galaxies, and beyond.

..and you?

Also, 'splain the 'hero' bit to me please. And perhaps I should further explain his attire and manners.

Black t-shirt (always)
jeans, 1989 with black belt, but not acid-washed jeans.
Mullet: Black. But it's not a shiny black, it's a dull black, below the shoulders with a natural curl, mullet.

He tends to say stuff out of nowhere and talks over everyone and says what, he believes, to be extrememly profound interjections here there and everywhere.

Still your hero?

Egan: Yes. Sadly I've had to learn that shoe leather doesn't taste good the hard way.
Nothing like hanging up the phone or facing the person and dying inside..or outside.

P: Yeah, baby. So, that whole Area 51? Yeah, totally exists. Aliens are amoung us in all shapes and form.
JFK? Yeah, totally more than one gunman.
Man on the moon? Oh, please....

How am I doing? Are ya hot?

Bre: Damn, I knew I shouldn't have accepted that cherry beverage.

GirlGoyle said...

Seems to me you might need the Kool Aid (or some kind of Aid) to make it through that class. Next time consider two seats between you and Mullet Rock God and 4 seats between you and Miss Sponge. I hate people like that. You say hello and they think it gives them the right to open the flood gates over their petty shallow lives. They'd save everyone a whole lot of time if they started their ranting out with: Do you care to know....

puerileuwaite said...

They oughta have a TV sitcom dedicated to mullets. That would be funny.