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Sep. 11th, 2008 08:21 pmToday, as I probably note every year, is my grandmother's birthday. I called her and she was telling me about all the cards and phone calls she's gotten today. She said it was nice to be remembered and loved. It's her second birthday since Grandpa died, and the first was only a month and change after the fact. Last year we made a point of having a party; this year I guess people were still thinking of her a little more than before. Either that, or she noticed it more because living alone after fifty-plus years of marriage probably never quite gets comfortable.
Moving on. Let us now discuss things that are awkward!
* Sitting in class watching a 60 Minutes feature on some work your professor did because that is what she is teaching about, and in the feature she starts crying, and she IS SITTING RIGHT THERE SHOWING US THIS. I think I was blushing. She obviously did not mind, but - I did.
(This class is cool - it's about how sign language came into existence as a true language in 1990s Nicaragua. There was no sign language in Nicaragua before that. My professor played a major role in studying and documenting how it came to be. Very awesome. But WITH THE CRYING and the BEING IN THE SAME ROOM and AUGH.)
* I don't know if I'm going to survive my play analysis class, guys. We did this insane exercise where people came up with words to go with their names that matched the phoneme - oh, whatever, let's just go with first letter. Close enough for purposes of description here. But we had to do that, and we had to come up with a gesture to go with it, AND we had to repeat the names and gestures back at people, and OH MY GOD.
You know how, in Enchanted, the big musical number breaks out and Patrick Dempsey has no idea what in the blue hell is going on? And he continues not to get it for the entire thing? And there's this one truly awesome shot where people are throwing their arms in the air, and he's got his sarcastically half-extended with, like, still-life jazz hands going on? That is how I felt. I was Patrick Dempsey with sarcastic jazz hands and I was the only one who DID NOT GET IT. I was so embarrassed. For me, for my classmates, for my professor, for everyone. I swear to god I would rather read a baseball RPS I wrote out loud to the class than EVER FUCKING DO THAT AGAIN. Is this because I am an English major and not a drama/theater major?
The moral of the story is, I have a sensitive embarrassment squick. (This is why I can never be a true John Barrowman fan.) The end.
Moving on. Let us now discuss things that are awkward!
* Sitting in class watching a 60 Minutes feature on some work your professor did because that is what she is teaching about, and in the feature she starts crying, and she IS SITTING RIGHT THERE SHOWING US THIS. I think I was blushing. She obviously did not mind, but - I did.
(This class is cool - it's about how sign language came into existence as a true language in 1990s Nicaragua. There was no sign language in Nicaragua before that. My professor played a major role in studying and documenting how it came to be. Very awesome. But WITH THE CRYING and the BEING IN THE SAME ROOM and AUGH.)
* I don't know if I'm going to survive my play analysis class, guys. We did this insane exercise where people came up with words to go with their names that matched the phoneme - oh, whatever, let's just go with first letter. Close enough for purposes of description here. But we had to do that, and we had to come up with a gesture to go with it, AND we had to repeat the names and gestures back at people, and OH MY GOD.
You know how, in Enchanted, the big musical number breaks out and Patrick Dempsey has no idea what in the blue hell is going on? And he continues not to get it for the entire thing? And there's this one truly awesome shot where people are throwing their arms in the air, and he's got his sarcastically half-extended with, like, still-life jazz hands going on? That is how I felt. I was Patrick Dempsey with sarcastic jazz hands and I was the only one who DID NOT GET IT. I was so embarrassed. For me, for my classmates, for my professor, for everyone. I swear to god I would rather read a baseball RPS I wrote out loud to the class than EVER FUCKING DO THAT AGAIN. Is this because I am an English major and not a drama/theater major?
The moral of the story is, I have a sensitive embarrassment squick. (This is why I can never be a true John Barrowman fan.) The end.