A fun pull-the-tab book
So yesterday I mentioned that I wanted to ask my teacher for a *tiny* extension. Last night, I settled into my seat at the Cathedral and prepared to work up the nerve to ask the Esteemed Ms. Laskas for this great favor. The girl that sits next to me is a former therapist and I suppose that explains why I always feel the need to talk to her and tell her weird things about my life. Most recently I asked her if she thought I had an OCD due to my addiction to picking at my lips. Hey, I don't have insurance, I have to take the free medical advice when I can get it.
Anyway, the Esteemed Ms. Laskas walks into the room and one of the first things she does is write the new deadline on the board: Wednesday at 5 p.m. Sexcellent. She also gave us until the 14th to revise any of the three pieces we've done in order to get a better grade on them. Supersexcellent. I need to revise the profile I did of the girl from PAAI. I only got a B on it and I should have been able to get an A. So hopefully I'll be getting an A in this class. My QPA could use that little shot of adrenalin. A-drenalin. Ha. I made a pun.
Since I always seem to do a little recap of class, here's this week's:
We were doing class workshops last night of a few immersions. Overall, pretty good and they were excellent examples to show us the difference between scenes and just telling, if that makes any sense. Then the girl that I don't particularly care for starts passing out her story about an evening at the Voodoo Lounge's strip club. Her piece was in the first person and it was basically just her ripping the dancers a new asshole. She's talking all this trash about how she almost vomited upon seeing these girls on stage. It was pretty much this long editorial about the state of nudity in the U.S. vs. the world. It just didn't make any sense. And I was offended at her judgment of the women. I told her to go back and ask the strippers how they felt about another young woman coming into their workplace and judging them, without a knowing a single thing about their lives. She turned a little red at that remark. Then she also talked about this one stripper by saying that she looked like a Russian immigrant. What? We asked her about that and she just said something like, “Well, she was skinny and looked kind of poor.” Well, it's always nice to let your racism shine through in your writing. Anyway, I talk too much shit on that girl…but this is my journal and I rule here.
The Esteemed Ms. Laskas also entertained us by ripping on Diane Sawyer. She's funny.
baby trauma. bbl.
