the queen of backhanded compliments

Client: You look different today.

Me: Oh?

Client: Are those different glasses?

Me: Yes.

Client: Huh. Yeah, different glasses.

Me: Yep, I switch them up every once in a while.

Client. Good. With these you look less like Harry Potter.

Me: Oh....right.


Now. There are things to say. First, Client Who Shall Remain Nameless, thank you for liking my current glasses. Second, maybe I WANT to look like Harry Potter. And third, maybe I DO look like Harry Potter. Except for fourth, somehow I still feel like chucking my Tropical Hurricane smoothie with soy protein all over your Lululemon sweatshirt. Fifth, I apologize. That was unprofessional. And hypothetically wasteful.

the title of my last post was stupid

It was, really. The title should have been "this is the part where I thank my lucky stars for what just happened because I was pretty darn sure I was getting a B and so bragging is out of the question". If you read the previous title and experienced a sudden desire to reach through my computer screen and punch my nose, thanks for refraining.

this is the part where i brag shamelessly

I GOT AN A- IN ASIAN STUDIES.

BOOYEAH.

I was going to say that I soundly kicked Asian Studies' bottom, but the minus part of my grade would seem to contradict that statement. Perhaps I can say that I engaged Asian Studies in a vigorous but not quite deadly fight in which I was able to inflict some minor but still rather embarrassing injuries.

Whatever. I'll take it.

i blame asian studies

I just took my last final.

That means I'm free. Free from the clutches of a semester from Hades. The underworld. "H" "E" double hockey sticks. New York in mid-July.

I blame Asian Studies.

First, the Chinese have been around for like forever, and because of their being around for like forever, all textbooks about their history, art and literature weigh approximately ten pounds each. So I'm pretty sure that my right shoulder is where my ear should be.

Second, I apparently have no ear for Chinese pronunciation. And my teacher didn't lecture with slides, so every time she'd say the name of a dynasty, or province, or emperor, I'd have to play matching games with my textbook to figure out what she just said. My notebook is filled with scribblings like "Shun-ze? Ten-yi? Cheeyeng-ky-shek?" All with question marks. As I reviewed my notes for the final, I found one page where, right in the middle of a sentence, I wrote "I have no idea what she just said".

Third, remember how my teacher didn't lecture with slides? Well, that doesn't mean she didn't use slides. At the beginning of every lecture, she'd turn off the lights, and show us a picture, of an emperor, or some ancient Chinese map, and then she's leave the lights off for the rest of the lecture. So, I would sit, in the dark, eyes inches off my notebook, scribbling phonetic attempts at a completely foreign language while trying to not fall asleep.

I'm just realizing this sounds a little bitter. Do I sound bitter? I might be coming off the sugar. Last night I ate somewhere in the neighborhood of ten pounds of jolly ranchers, starbursts, half a can of reddi-whip, pop-chips and drank like two gallons of diet dr. pepper, and I might have forgotten to keep the cycle going today. I love school. I love it. Every time I set foot on that campus I fall in love all over again.

It's just that I'm so pleased to have my brain back for the summer. I really missed it.