Today was my first day back at school. Technically one of my classes started yesterday but with the insane amount of snow that Raton got, I didn't make it.
To be honest, I've always hated first days at school. I get incredibly anxious and shy and I worry about getting to the right classroom at the right time and I always fret about what will happen if the teacher makes us divide into groups and I don't know anyone or what if the teacher sent out some sort of group-memo and I didn't get it and what if everyone else is brilliant at the subject being taught and I am clueless?!.. and so on and so on. Consequently, I tend to spend my first days at school with my ridiculously simple schedule in front of my nose and my anxieties about being the odd one out tend to come true as the result of sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Over the years, my school anxiety has gotten a little better but I still experience it and today was no different. On the plus side, the first day of school is generally the only school day of the year when I wake up and do not have the desire nor the ability to go back to sleep. My first class was at 9:30 and I knew that I should plan for plenty of time to drive there due to the snow/road conditions and give myself time to get dressed and ready so I set my alarm for 8:00, thinking that I could follow my usual pattern of having my first alarm a little earlier than necessary so I could hit the snooze button. Didn't work today! When my alarm went off at 8:00 my eyes flew open and after lying there paralyzed for a few minutes I gave up and got ready. My dad had left our dogs inside the house so they could be in the heat for a little longer and right before I left I put them out in the garage. I got a good luck kiss from Otis and that made me feel a little better.
My first class, History of Western Civ, was located in the Berg Building which I am pretty familiar with but in a room I had never been in. When I first walked in, the first thing that came to my mind was, "Wow! This is what I always used to think college classrooms looked like!" In my years at TSJC I have sat at wooden tables and lab counters and desks with computers on top but never in a room like this one- the theatre-kind of setting with lines of chairs on raising levels that all look down on the main floor where the teacher stays. Because of TV and movies I had grown up imagining this to be how college was so it was sort of a small accomplishment.
For whatever reason, the class had somehow segregated itself to mostly guys on one side, girls on the other. While walking up to my seat (I carefully considered my seating choices and ended up with a seat about halfway up and over to the side- not quite next to anyone but not far enough away that it would seem weird) I glanced at the other students and observed that most of the guys looked really young. It later developed that most of the gentlemen were actually high school students.
The teacher was an older man with a white beard wearing a Hawaiian shirt. He was straightforward and funny and I liked him at once. While going through the syllabus, he read what he thought needed to be said and scrolled through the rest, muttering, "Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.." Later, one of my fears came true when he had us divide into teams but I was lucky to be seated next to several other young women who didn't seem to know anyone either.
He had us pick names for our groups and then write the name and members on a pad of paper being passed around. When it got back to him, he glanced over the names and was perplexed at one. It was something like ANUKP. He tried to pronounce it and a large group of high school boys started giggling. One squeaked, "You're a dude with a beard! You should be smart enough to pronounce it!" More giggling. "Say it like An-uh-kuh-p!" The teacher flatly repeated "An-uh-kuh-p" and the boys guffawed some more. Finally one of them told us all what it was an acronym of- something dumb ending with Unicorns Kill People. The teacher raised an eyebrow. "You guys don't go on many dates, do you?" The boys turned red and the rest of us laughed.
I was a little worried about my second class, Intro to Environmental Science, mainly because it's located in the Davis building, and every class I've had in that building has been.. challenging to say the least. But the teacher was very nice and I think it'll be a good class.
Finally, I had Digital Photography, which consists of the teacher, me and one other. I'm not at all worried about that class because I love photography and I'm sure I'll do pretty well.
I'd go on to talk more about my day but it's getting late and my day was pretty boring and already I feel like I've gone on and on!
Sometime soon I'll post another blog about... The Amazing Kreskin! See, you're already hooked!
Haha!
Sarah
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Once upon a time there was a scorpion...
It's a brand new year! Well, not "brand new" exactly. It's already a week old. Like, if the year 2013 were a DVD purchased on New Year's Eve at 11:59 pm, "brand new" would be sealed in clear plastic with those horrible stickers on the opening edges of the DVD box, you know, the ones that read the movie's title and either have to be cut or peeled off to open the box. "Brand new" might even be in the bottom of the plastic Walmart bag with the receipt, spare change, and Chapstick that you bought on impulse while waiting in line to check out. No, 2013 is not brand new. At a week old, 2013 is sitting open next to the TV, freed from it's clear plastic prison. 2013 has been watched and, as the novelty of the new year has worn off, may be collecting dust. Depending on how rough you were bringing in the new year, it may have little scratches on the surface.
Wait, what was my point?
Oh yeah! We're in 2013 now. I had to address the "new" thing because this is the first blog I've written this year. Anyway.
I don't really have anything specific to say or tell you, but I haven't written a blog in a while and I felt like it. Let's see..hmmm, hmmm, hmmm.
Oh, okay! I am going to tell you the story of the time I got stung on the foot by a scorpion!
Once upon a time...
No, I'm totally kidding. About the "Once upon a time thing", anyway. I did get stung, and I'll tell you about it as soon as I can stop getting distracted.
ANYWAY!
On the evening of July 24th, 2012 (I know cuz I just looked at my Twitter) I was sitting on the couch in the living room of the house I live in with my dad, watching TV. I have my own little special spot on the couch that I always sit- there's this permanent indent there now. Well, to be honest, it's not just my spot- I kind of share it with my cat Betty. We both sit there when we're alone on the couch and when we're both there we compromise by having her sit on my lap. Damn it! I'm getting distracted again!
Anyway, on that particular night I was watching TV alone since my dad had already gone up to bed. I had to get up to go do something and swung my feet off the couch. I suddenly felt a sharp pain on the side of my right foot. I jerked it back and looked at it because I figured I had set it down on a goathead (a kind of little thorn-like thing that can be found all over New Mexico) but there was nothing there, even though my foot still had this sharp, lingering pain. So I looked down at the floor where my foot had hit and saw nothing... except a huge scorpion wandering across the rug. The next few minutes are kind of a blur to me because I think I went into maximum panic mode. However, I know I went with my first instinct, which was to retract all of my limbs in as close as possible to my body and watch in breathless horror as the (probably equally terrified, as he had almost been squished) scorpion crept away from me. I stayed this way until he crawled out of sight- it was at this point that I realized I should have squished or captured him, but in my panic I did not care. I ran up the stairs two at a time and arrived breathless to my dad's room where he was lying on his bed watching baseball.
"DAD! I just got stung by a scorpion!" I choked out. "I-i-i-it was under my foot I stepped on it and stings and it's under the couch what if it stings the dogs and I should have caught it but what do I do---"
"Wait!" he calmly cut into my senseless muttering. "What?"
I repeated myself more slowly and we looked at my foot. It still stung and there was a small bump that was pretty red but other than that I was fine. Well, physically.
He asked me how big the scorpion was and I tried to think back. In my memory the scorpion was roughly the size of a small cat but I doubted that was accurate. "About two inches long" was what I finally came up with.
He had me sit next to him for a few minutes just in case I went into anaphylactic shock or something. I didn't, and used the time to text my mom and sister.
It was during this that I observed just how differently the two sexes can react to trauma. I texted my mom and sister- "I just got stung by a scorpion!!!" and the reactions I got were "Oh my god! Are you okay?" "What happened?! Are you gonna be alright?"
Meanwhile, my dad serenely watched baseball.
After a few minutes, it became quite obvious that I wasn't about to suffer a fatal allergic reaction. Eyes still aimed at the TV, my dad asked in a casual voice, "So... are you sure it was a scorpion?"
"Yes," I replied curtly.
He chuckled. "Well, we better go look for it."
We looked for a while, and of course it was no where to be found. Well, when I say "we", I mean he did most of the searching and lifting the couches up while I trailed behind him stepping gingerly.
Really, the whole thing was rather anti-climactic but it was an experience nonetheless. It's funny- in many aspects of my life I feel that I am grown-up and I can be strong and tough but something about arachnids makes me act and feel about 5 years old.
Happy "new" year!
Sarah
Wait, what was my point?
Oh yeah! We're in 2013 now. I had to address the "new" thing because this is the first blog I've written this year. Anyway.
I don't really have anything specific to say or tell you, but I haven't written a blog in a while and I felt like it. Let's see..hmmm, hmmm, hmmm.
Oh, okay! I am going to tell you the story of the time I got stung on the foot by a scorpion!
Once upon a time...
No, I'm totally kidding. About the "Once upon a time thing", anyway. I did get stung, and I'll tell you about it as soon as I can stop getting distracted.
ANYWAY!
On the evening of July 24th, 2012 (I know cuz I just looked at my Twitter) I was sitting on the couch in the living room of the house I live in with my dad, watching TV. I have my own little special spot on the couch that I always sit- there's this permanent indent there now. Well, to be honest, it's not just my spot- I kind of share it with my cat Betty. We both sit there when we're alone on the couch and when we're both there we compromise by having her sit on my lap. Damn it! I'm getting distracted again!
Anyway, on that particular night I was watching TV alone since my dad had already gone up to bed. I had to get up to go do something and swung my feet off the couch. I suddenly felt a sharp pain on the side of my right foot. I jerked it back and looked at it because I figured I had set it down on a goathead (a kind of little thorn-like thing that can be found all over New Mexico) but there was nothing there, even though my foot still had this sharp, lingering pain. So I looked down at the floor where my foot had hit and saw nothing... except a huge scorpion wandering across the rug. The next few minutes are kind of a blur to me because I think I went into maximum panic mode. However, I know I went with my first instinct, which was to retract all of my limbs in as close as possible to my body and watch in breathless horror as the (probably equally terrified, as he had almost been squished) scorpion crept away from me. I stayed this way until he crawled out of sight- it was at this point that I realized I should have squished or captured him, but in my panic I did not care. I ran up the stairs two at a time and arrived breathless to my dad's room where he was lying on his bed watching baseball.
"DAD! I just got stung by a scorpion!" I choked out. "I-i-i-it was under my foot I stepped on it and stings and it's under the couch what if it stings the dogs and I should have caught it but what do I do---"
"Wait!" he calmly cut into my senseless muttering. "What?"
I repeated myself more slowly and we looked at my foot. It still stung and there was a small bump that was pretty red but other than that I was fine. Well, physically.
He asked me how big the scorpion was and I tried to think back. In my memory the scorpion was roughly the size of a small cat but I doubted that was accurate. "About two inches long" was what I finally came up with.
He had me sit next to him for a few minutes just in case I went into anaphylactic shock or something. I didn't, and used the time to text my mom and sister.
It was during this that I observed just how differently the two sexes can react to trauma. I texted my mom and sister- "I just got stung by a scorpion!!!" and the reactions I got were "Oh my god! Are you okay?" "What happened?! Are you gonna be alright?"
Meanwhile, my dad serenely watched baseball.
After a few minutes, it became quite obvious that I wasn't about to suffer a fatal allergic reaction. Eyes still aimed at the TV, my dad asked in a casual voice, "So... are you sure it was a scorpion?"
"Yes," I replied curtly.
He chuckled. "Well, we better go look for it."
We looked for a while, and of course it was no where to be found. Well, when I say "we", I mean he did most of the searching and lifting the couches up while I trailed behind him stepping gingerly.
Really, the whole thing was rather anti-climactic but it was an experience nonetheless. It's funny- in many aspects of my life I feel that I am grown-up and I can be strong and tough but something about arachnids makes me act and feel about 5 years old.
Happy "new" year!
Sarah
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