The first day of class was yesterday and I am feeling pretty great. It’s good to have such a monkey off of my back. I know that it is a far, far way away and tons of classes and exams and you-name-it ahead, but after putting it off for so long to finally actually be sitting in class and able to say that I am a full time student is pretty cool.

I had a lot of anxiety going into the day - I can’t totally explain it. For the most part in life, I have always been confident in myself and the things I do. I guess it’s just that this is such a new experience. I can gauge the levels of importance about the anxiety based on Melissa’s reaction. Since she is getting her Masters right now, she’s done a lot so things that I might freak out about a little bit, such as my original sociology class getting cancelled, but she just says not to sweat it and that it all works out, and sure enough. So that’s great.

My first class was Algebra, and it looks like it should be pretty breezy. I just really want to get the foundation set since it’s been so long. Why rush into something I don’t get? There are ten labs in the class which are basically just classes anyway, which you get 10 points for participating in. And, it’s mandatory really, so there isn’t any point in not being there. There are 10 quizzes worth twenty points each, and if you get a 16/20 or better on all of them, you are excused from the final, and basically get an A. So that’s great.

One girl in class made for good entertainment. First, when the professor was explaining that the course was developmental/remedial and that the credit was only for full-time status and to help you get your foundation with algebra, she proclaims loudly in the quiet room that “it’s a class for retards.” The professor tells her he takes offense to her calling his students retards, and we move on. Then, during the introductions, one girl sitting next to her (and a friend apparently) says that the interesting thing in her life now is that she recently went vegetarian, to which Funny Girl sez, “Fuck That!”

Seriously.

We went from there to asking a black guy in class if anyone ever told him he looked like Tracy Morgan during his intro, and it was a nice source of amazement. (Cool dude by the way, we ended up at the same meeting at the Worker’s Center later in the day to discuss the upcoming campaign for hotel workers.)

Later in class, a student asked the professor how we should refer to him. He responded that anything other than Professor Asshole would be fine, to which the student quickly asked if Mr. Dipshit was ok.

It was all meant to be funny and all that, but I guess at this point in my life, trying to do small things to improve on my temperament and to improve my life and potential future, being a smartass in class just falls so far down the scale of place-I-want-to-be or thing-I-want-to-be-doing that it just makes me shake my head. Don’t get me wrong, I love to fuck around and goof off, and my mouth hasn’t always been the most helpful to me at times. I just didn’t get it.

Later, I checked in on the political science class online and it looks pretty fun. A lot of the stuff I know already, just from the last five or so years, so it will be nice to back it up with an actual class. As soon as I was done with that I went to my sociology class and this should be a cool one, too.

The professor is a self-proclaimed born-again Christian minister as well as a very entertaining guy.

The day we discuss pro-choice/pro-life should be an interesting one.