Thursday, May 16, 2013

Four End of Semester Anecdotes

ONE: Is it over yet?
There comes a time during every semester when you start thinking things like, "But if I got hit by a car, I wouldn't have to write this paper." I reached this point a couple of months ago. To say I have a low tolerance for school would be an understatement.

I know I'm not alone in this because the above got twenty-eight likes when I posted it on Facebook.  Sure, they're terrible thoughts, but we have all been there. The other day as I rushed down the stairs at my grandparents' house I tripped and was actually disappointed when I managed to catch myself on the handrail.

The fact that school puts me in this mindset is disturbing. College is obviously detrimental to my mental health.

TWO: Just call me Harold
Product of math class, November 2012
Riding the bus back to the commuter parking lot on Friday, I sat across from a girl that looked very familiar. There is nothing I hate more than when I recognize a person, but can't remember where I know them from. (Okay, that's an exaggeration. There's a lot I hate more than that, but it is really annoying.) I was wracking my brain, trying to place this girl in one of my classes or at a store in the mall, when I realized why she looked so familiar. I doodled her once. See left.

There has been evidence of my cartoons coming to life before. In a Valentine's comic for my high school newspaper, I drew this chill black guy with awesome dreadlocks. Then a year later Melany found him in the student union at UTSA. We walked past him when I came to visit and I did a double take. She wasn't exaggerating. 

Obviously I have some kind of magic pencil that turns cartoon characters into college students. I will use this newfound power to create my army of minions and we will storm the Bastille administration building.

THREE: The right to late night McDonald's
There is something about driving around late at night, music blasting that is good for the soul. I do this often, especially when I am stressed, so I waste a lot of gas at the end of every semester. On this particular night, I ended up near campus and decided to park in the commuter lot so I could eat the McDonald's I had picked up against my better judgment.

As I was chowing down on fries and listening to Bombay Bicycle Club, a TTU police officer appeared at my window, shining a flashlight in my eyes. In short, the conversation went something like this:

HIM: Hey, what are you doing out here?
ME: I'm sitting here listening to music.
HIM: So you're not meeting anyone or anything?
ME: I'm literally just sitting here eating chicken nuggets.
HIM: Oh. Okay.
ME: Yeah, I know. My life is sad.

It was a truly ridiculous situation that could only happen to me. I'm just thankful I wasn't listening to Adele or something equally pathetic.

FOUR: An email from my Book History professor
Dear all,

I've been struggling over your grades. A number of you have come in firmly in the B/B+ range.

And every time I started to enter grades, I thought about how game you all were all semester long, how willing to play along, to see the purpose in our three-ring circus, how much I enjoyed coming to your class every day.

This was clearly an A class, if there ever was one, even if individual performances weren't always also A's.

So, for the first time in my 26 years of teaching, I've decided that's enough. I hope you don't mind.

Have a lovely summer.



    Lizzie said...

    These anecdotes made me suddenly really excited to read a short story or a memoir of yours. I have no idea if you have one in the making, but I think it'd be damn good. And I'm not just saying that!

    MAGGIE, YOU BE HELLA AWESOME. Sorry your semester was hell.

    That is all.

    Lizzi said...

    You need a tv show about your life co-written by yourself, Mindy Kaling, and Tina Fey. Also staring all three of you. Plus Shelby.

    That is all.

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