The Uber Smarts

Dear math and science majors,

I hope you did not take too much offense from my post yesterday. If so, I apologize. I must be more particular in my referencing. The math and science majors I was referring to are the ones who are only in their line of education for the money or security of their future. Even then, there's nothing really wrong with that. It makes me feel sorry for them that they cannot do whatever they want, actually. I guess the underlying reason for my irrational lash out was my nerves being pricked when I was reminded of all the people who think nothing of the English major (or other artsy studies for that matter) except as an easy way through college.

To be honest, I quite adore math and science majors, especially the nerdy (aka uber smart) ones. To me, they are the funniest people to be around, and I usually enjoy them more than others. Maybe it's because I sense we share a passion for something. Maybe I enjoy the witty comments. Maybe I think they are more down to earth because they have a higher understanding of the world and life. Whatever it is, I like it. It makes me feel okay to be a literature nerd when I have nerds of other fields around.

A point that I seem to notice about the uber smarts of math and science, is that they seem to find time to read books just like I do. This impresses me and even causes a bit of envy. They have the ability to do two things....while I just focus on one. They also have the amazing ability to accept one right answer. I like many. I like to have choices and defend my "rightness." I can pull answers out of thin air, and they really can't. There's always a fear that someone is going to come up from behind and disprove your theory with their textual evidence. I have options, and I like options. Maybe that's because I'm a girl who can never truly make up her mind. I kind of like it that way though; it makes life interesting because it's unpredictable.

Most of my friends are math and science majors, so I base a general, very positive, and (dare I say it?) jealous judgment off them. I find them logical, which I am not, and straightforward, which I am not. I view most things in a net layout, looking for random connections to complete my knowledge web that will never make sense if I tried to explain it through a direct line. Obviously, I do not find math and science majors as horrible as my previous post makes them sound to be. Who knows? Maybe I'll end up marrying an uber smart. He can be a professor, and we'll travel for his research. Meanwhile, I'll be writing.

Cheers,

The English major

School...Here I Come

Today was the first day of school...again. In fact, it's about my 26th first day of school, 12th if you only count college semesters. The excitement slowly dies over the years, but I do enjoy the change of courses (although I would like to keep some...farewell American literature!). I had three classes today, and thankfully only one, so far, terrifies me. Contemporary Criticism. When I entered this class, I may have entered my doom. It's all philosophy, not a single novel. What kind of English class is that? Instead of Tennyson, Dickens, and Salinger, I have Derrida, Marx, Sedgwick, and many others. Oh, and what did he say about the readings, considering we have no set schedule?


"Just read them all as soon as you can. Read them over and over again."

And let's not forget the other comments he mentioned.

"This is a hard class," which was followed by a statement that English classes really aren't as easy as they are thought to be. True that profe (that's white gangsta for professor). I don't know how that word got around. It was probably a rumor that some idiot science or math major spread around because he didn't choose the major he actually wanted...because it wouldn't get him anywhere in life....because it wouldn't make him any money....because he's a whimp. I say "he," because girls are pretty dominant in the English major. Men are hardly present, and when they are you must keep out of the way of their extreme intelligence egos. Moving on.

The last comment I remember striking me was, "You should feel overwhelmed." Thank you captain.

However, I have hope for this class: my professor has a hook on his left hand. I have already deemed him as awesome. Besides, who doesn't want a class that scares you a bit? Gives me all the more reason to tough it out and shove my 9-12 page paper on Derrida into the faces of math and science majors (no offense people, really).

Their is also a major bonus for this class: the final is extra credit. Enough said right?

The other class I attended today creeped me out a bit. It's an editing class, so I wasn't expecting to do much that hour except go over the syllabus and talk about how ridiculously in depth The Chicago Manual of Style is (an editor's bible). Instead, our professor took about twenty minutes to discuss how editing is like the grace of Christ. We perform services for others that they cannot do themselves. They've done their best, and we fill in the rest. She was serious folks. I don't know about you, but I don't think I like that kind of responsibility. Weird. Someone takes their job a little too seriously.

Thank goodness French was exactly what I expected. Bienvenue à l'école.

One time sled

My sister visited me this past weekend...I'm exhausted. The first order of business would be her sleeping habits. Three nights of kicking, hitting, and pushing me to the edge was not the most fun on a twin bed. She wouldn't take my advice and sleep on the couch. Why couldn't I sleep on the couch? Simple. It's my bed, and I enjoy my foam mattress way too much, even if I only get six inches of it. This stubborness caused me to wake up in the middle of the night numerous times to find her head in my armpit somehow, or a slap in the stomach, a kick to the thigh, or perhaps a knee in the lower back.


The day time was better. After a trip to the library and the art museum, we decided to make use of the sled we had. Hannah wouldn't go down the hill unless I went with her first. Dumb idea. I wasn't sure what was under the snow, but it looked okay. I hopped on with Hannah on my lap and we blew down the hill. Towards the bottom of the hill, I felt a large gash in the....lower area of my body and we fell off the sled. We had hit some sort of ditch, or maybe a large tree root. Whatever it was, I did this:

Moral of the story: don't send a healthy girl down a hill on a three dollar sled. Second: make sure you know where you're sledding. I have never truly gone sledding before, so I had no clue what I was doing. Come to find out, we were sledding over a hill of jagged rocks. Intelligent I am.

From then on we stayed with safer activities like speed scrabble and cleaning out my fridge from past roommates, but maybe that wasn't such a safe thing either.

My Brother's Button

A serious feminine skill that I lack is sewing. I took lessons when I was younger, but besides the pillow case and the embarrassing see-through pajama pants I made (I'm guessing it was the fabric?), I am clueless. I kind of just ho-hum my way along when something needs to be fixed, which usually ends up in me handing it off to someone else. However, today I have succeeded. This is my brother's button:

I know. Please hold the thunderous applause; I am quite proud of my button.

My brother is going up to school this weekend, but alas, he had a faulty button. I, the one without skill, was able to complete this epic task. Okay, it only took me ten minutes, and I don't even know if I did it right, or if there truly is a right way, but I do know it is one secure little button (wow, check out that run-on sentence with three different conjunctions...). It's definitely a Kayla signature. My brother is proud as well.

I don't know why he needs shorts for Winter Semester, but whatever. He has a fantasmazing button on them.

Hoping this is an error

Because I am ridiculously and unreasonably excited for school this semester, I was checking my books that I need to buy for my future classes. Along with a list of books I need to purchase, were the listed prices of each one. As an English major, I have never been subject to outrageously priced textbooks that the science majors have to put up with. I usually spend ten bucks on a novel and end up keeping it at the end of the semester because sell-back price is a whopping two Washingtons. So this year while I was looking at prices, I was a little shocked to see this...

$999.99

I'm pretty sure this is just another blunder of the school website. Unfortunately, they seem to happen more often than they should. However, if it is not a mistake, I will be dropping this class. I don't care if you're the reincarnation of Shakespeare, a modern book should never cost this much. And since this oh so reasonably priced text is for economics, I find it ironic and abominable.