Spanish Conversation Class @ MindSay

I should learn not to worry about personal space in my one class... I really shouldn't worry. Whether I wanted my personal space invaded or not, it will be, especially by my professor. He likes getting us to get over our safety bubbles but it's awkward. A couple of weeks ago... He was checking to make sure I was okay, right? That's a good bull shit answer. So he touched my knee. Later in the class he commented about how I had notes written on my hand by running his finger along it--it also hit my scar which is a sensitive spot for me. That's okay.
Today. My back has been killing me so I decided to wear my corset today yesterday. This morning, I couldn't find the shirt I usually wear under it. So I was showing much more skin than I wanted. I wore a denim jacket over it with my button. My famous button of What color are my eyes? I wore it buttoned on my right side. My jacket covered the boobs completely... One might not notice I was wearing a corset. Mr. Professor walked in and I knew he was reading my button and he looked puzzled. We (the class) started a discussion about my button. He asked if it was put there for a reason and I said yes. He was sitting next to me at that point and pointed out where I should have put my button. He reached across me... Yeah that was awkward.
The class then talked about names. He said I was definately not a Tasha. The class decided I was a Cynthia or a Sylvia... Cynthia was Drew's contribution. (Oh yeah, Drew is the cute boy in my class). We then moved to facebook where we all showed our profiles and such. Drew went before me and he had 1 friend request and it was from me... the mouse started going over there and then his attention was diverted as I was praying. Whew... That would have been embaressing. My gopher face was declared great by the class and awful by the professor. The madam photo... decided cute. after class, the gay guy commented how I was wearing that "top" again. HeHe. The prom pictures posted by my friend... are going to spark conversation. My professor asked me how old I was as I stood up there. I said my age. He said if I was over 21, he would have brought me a bottle of alcohol to get through the next class period... That's how fun it is going to be. NeeNee decided she's going to put up even more embaressing photos of me... Oh goodness.
Sincerely
Cynthia / Tullia
PS awkward moment concering a major important dude...

Wow, what a beautiful country we live in. All the green... covered in rain. Lots of very wet trees, a soggy dog or two and a lot of very, very damp people. I love it, though. I prefer the rain to the sun for some strange, yet possibly wonderful reason. It is much more calming.

 

 I went to Coleraine yesterday for a wee nosey. It was great, although I still prefer Queens. Coleraine is definitely University number two. We spent about an hour looking around the place and the rest of the day walking about Coleraine and enjoying the atmosphere. It was very nice and peaceful, completely different to Belfast with its hustle, bustle and very “have to work, have to do well” attitude. I did like Coleraine accommodation although, to be perfectly honest, I wouldn’t be happy in the slightest sharing my stuff with five/six other people. I’d rather go to Queens, live at home and have my mummy there to look after me.

 

 Meh, University choice is tough.

 

Despite my A in the exam, I got predicted a B in English which I thought was slightly odd although I can see their reasoning. I got 270/300 which is 30 marks over the A boundary so, not to sound in any way arrogant, I think I was really expecting to get an A predicted. I personally have a theory that they think my obvious dislike of English will, in some significant way, make me do badly. I mean, to be fair, I don’t do anything. I just sit for the entire year, staring into space until the exam when I don’t do a hell of a lot but always do well just because I can read, analyse and communicate in a sensible and coherent way. It is true, I really do dislike English but I’m pretty good at it. And my friend, Sarah, got predicted an A despite the fact I got a higher mark than she did in the exams. She works hard, though. I really, really don’t.

 

It sounds kind of petty and childish, especially given the fact I only need an ABB to do my course and I have AABB, as well as not liking the subject, but I have always believed that if you do well you should be rewarded accordingly. I did do well, I got 100% in a paper, and still am expected to only achieve a B. It really puts a dampener on your spirits. It just makes me feel like I’m working for nothing now.

 

Except, of course, I’m going to get an A and prove them wrong. In fact, I rather prefer it this way. It knocked me off my high-horse but I’m climbing my own way back up.

 

(Not that I need it and not that I care but it is the principle behind the thing.)

 

I also had my first class with the Spanish assistant. Her name is Lucía and she is from the Asturias region. She was lovely, although she spoke much faster than the assistant from last year, but I don’t think it was impossible to understand her. I actually understood most of what she was saying, although I couldn’t remember how to reply. Her first question was “How old are you?” to which I replied, smugly and brilliantly “28”. It really broke the ice, though. She laughed for ages while I was trying to stick my head under the desk and die. It happened last year too. Why do I exist only to make Spanish people laugh as I try, and fail, to speak their language? I digress, she was lovely. She really was prepared and I think that I’m pretty much willing to take the challenge of this year. Apparently I speak very well, very clearly and very poshly, just not very quickly or sparklingly.

 

I planned my holiday in History using a 1919 map showing the territorial gains after the war. I felt strange and yet ever so hexagonal.

 

 I, somehow, got roped into writing an Agony Aunt column for the senior school magazine in a fake, sarcastic and hopefully witty way. I also seized power in an obvious way which Jimmy, the chairperson, wasn’t too chuffed about. Bloody people. If they don’t want to do it then don’t do it. Don’t just sit in the meeting, moan, bitch and make it dull for the rest of us. Yes, we know that our Year is hardly going to appreciate the finer details of the Labour leadership contest despite how entertainingly and satirically we present it but, in the name of all things sensible, have some self-belief. It is their loss if they are too thick to understand it.

 

I’m someone who commits 100% or gives nothing. I can’t understand when people lose faith and become deluded half-way through something important. If it is worth doing, kids, it is worth doing fantastically.

 

Cynical?

Overachiever?

Bossy?

Organised?

All or nothing?

Punctual (to a fault.)?

Critical?

Arrogant?

All of the above?

 

Going. To. Need. Therapy. One. Day. Soon.

 

Argento.