God, how I miss that wonderful smile of recognition as you walk into a classroom and have the relief of seeing someone you know-can sit with-can talk to. For me, for now, it's just a smile of acknowledgement--yes, we've met eyes and the polite thing to do is smile and nod, or smile and mouth-without making actual sound-the word "hello" or "hi." And attempting to make conversation in these embryonic stages is a lesson in futility at best! (What a nice collegiate sentence!!) You ask about classes: do you have this textbook or that, have you had the prof. before, is this you major. Words trickle and fade and whisper out of existence, and silence just settles in again, except for those people who know each other and are enjoying the thrill of speech.
Bloody hell! Don't let me have to make a speech in front of this class of strangers! The professor hasn't even walked in the door and I'm strangling with fear over a presentation I don't even know if I have to give or not.
And I only have to go through this madness another three times today. I wonder if my poor heart will stand it?
(You can tell I'm nervous...I'm waxing poetic!)
Later:Thank all the gods and goddesses that have ever existed in the universe!! I do not have to give one presentation this semester!!!!
Now-for those of you smug pusses who perhaps don't like giving presentation, but still-like the brave little soldiers you are-get up there and muster up the courage to go for it: Fuck You! I'm not trying to be rude, but there is just something about presentations-at least as a student giving one-that are so bloody awful they make me want to retch and die! If I was a teacher in front of a class, an actor in front of an audience, or even an interviewee in front of a panel of interviewers (all of which I've been before, so I speak that which I know) I would find it easier to cope with.
But ye gods and little fishes! Those dull, vacant, zombie-like stares, glazed eyes, slack jaws, professor in the corner furiously taking notes as you speak, the horrible dawning realization that you don't really know what the hell you're talking about----the horror, the horror.
Yes, I know I have to get used to it sometime, but not now. New place, new culture, new school, new everything!! At least give me a semester, people! (Ha ha ha, as if that would actually help my speech phobia!!)
All my classes went well, with the exception of the first one. I had worked myself into such a lather that I ended up running out of class as the prof. lectured to run to the bathroom! How sad is that?? I certainly hope this will not be a regular occurrence. I spoke to the prof. later though, and we actually had a rather nice chat. I think he will fast become one of my faves, and I hope like hell I left a better impression with him than the one of me darting past him as he lectured!
And one last thing for this entry: this school was built in 1962 and looks it! I'm sitting in seats that are actually attached to the desk tops (and we're not talking lecture theatre here, just regular classroom desks). And I swear that someone has most definitely killed themselves in each of the bathrooms! (Not the same person, of course. A different person for each W.C.) I'll definitely send pics soon.
Well kids, I'm out of here. German homework awaits and I plan to use the facilities before class to try and save myself a bit of panic!!
The horror, the horror....