great mother mars
05 February 2004 at 11:51 pm

During the few minutes that we were waiting for our teacher to show up for my Political Science class, I eavesdropped on a conversation between a middle-aged man and a 20-ish guitar-totin fellow. They were discussing how great the teacher is, how passionate he is, how much he pushes, how much he understands the material.

I don't have the balls to join in on conversations such as these, so I will discuss it here. First of all, I've already discussed how the teacher is half Mexican and half Chinese, and he speaks Mexican slang with a Chinese accent, which is bizarre and amusing, but doesn't really have anything to do with his teaching abilities. But I like to bring it up. He wrote the book that we are studying, and his lectures are the almost-verbatim regurgitation of the text. The text, by the way, is essentially US History 101. The class is political science. I'm not sure what I expected, but it was not a history lesson. But the reason I do not respect him as a teacher is because he has a political agenda; namely, he is a misogynistic homophobe. Tonight, he compared homosexuality to bestiality.

He has discussed gay marriage and how he's opposed to it in every class thus far, and to each his own opinion, but his point tonight was, Where do you draw the line? Why shouldn't people be able to marry animals if they can marry their own gender?

I was so furious for the rest of the lecture, so flabbergasted, that I spent the next few hours wondering if I could get away with dropping the class. I decided that I couldn't, so now I'm pissed off about that.

Commence random thoughts:

I've gotten really good at avoiding looking at people while on public transportation. Because I really hate it when people stare at me. It takes severe concentration, but it keeps my mind of off the severe nausea that accompanies my twice-daily trip.

I buttraped Target today. We returned a useless foot bath and a defunct showerhead and exchanged it for a 16-set of plates, bowls, and cups, a belgian waffle maker, a 24-piece random kitchen utensil kit (which included three bag clips, something I've always wanted but could never justify buying), some razor cleanser stuff, oodles of tights (opaque and fishnet), and some hair ties. Yee haa!

Aaron is v. sweet: on Futurama, there were some spiders, and he covered my eyes for me. Awww.

Bring It On + 8 Mile = You Got Served.

one year ago today: nothin.

two years ago today: "but i'm going to go to sleep instead." and "by 'dropped down' i mean collapsed on my floor in front of my mirror and by 'cried' i mean uncontrollably sobbed. '"

three years ago today: "i don't like red roses."


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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.