The Carnival called my English Class

I love english b/c i lke to write, i don't even mind having to analyze poetry cause i'm not as bad at it as i thought i was, but what took place today was WEIRD.

It tip the chart of weird. And made me feel Normal. Which i never feel normal.

So today, was our last english class before fall break. She took it easy on us, because i guess she knew that most of us were pretty much ready for vacation and wouldn't be paying attention anyway.

Today was my professors birthday, she has been telling us since last week, not because she knew we would care, but just because it is her favorite day, and she told us that day would pretty much be lax, group work, and stuff.

So after walking in the beautiful rain again today and coming into the room, it was the normal sight of people sitting at their seats and doing pretty much nothing. When English Professor came in, with a smile on her face, she notice a box on the table that i had not seen until she mentioned it.

Instantly the girl who i make small chatter with sometimes stands up....and that's when the craziness begins.

Her name is Laura. She is a little weird but who isn't. She not one of those students who you remember off the back. I mean she speaks in class, but not anything worth remembering, and she has a face that you just don't remember like somehow it blends in with it's surroundings. Up until today i thought she was an okay girl, until she walked up to the box on the table, and pulled from it...2 homemade cheesecakes, that she had made herself. She had decided to make a cake for the class, and the professor. We are all staring at each other like...WHAT?!

Wouldn't have been bad, if she didn't have on her crazy Martha Stewart voice the whole class period, her eyes seemed extra psychotic today. The gaze that never blinks is the only way i can describe it as.

Laura: We all thought of doing this
Class:[giggles can be heard, even the sound of heads shaking in puzzlement, but other than that, silence, i guess we all decided to reap in her brownie points.]
Professor: Oh you didn't have to do that, that is so kind of you guys.

So like we are in the fourth grade, we are handed out the cake. I didn't want any 1) because i don't eat in front of people i don't know. It's a weird quirk of mine, i hum when i eat, it's been described by my family as the Beckett song. It never fails so i try to save myself the embarassment by not eating in front of people, unless i am comfortable with them. This boy who had a crush on me pointed that weird quirk of mine, as he was describing why he liked me. I still said no, but it was sweet of him. 2) she might have slipped some weird crazy potion in it. 3) okay maybe not, but i really wasn't hungry, and sweets in the morning give me a headache.

Laura and another girl handed out the cheesecake. and i was in charge of forks. So i just handed them to the person behind me, a job well done i say.

Now this wasn't just really cheesecake. This was a CHEESECAKE. something off of the food network, it was vanilla, but with chocolate embedded in it, so it made these cool swirls. It looked Delicious, but me eating that cake would be against everything i am, which is SUCKING UP. Clearly she was raking in the points, though i think my teacher is wise enough to see past it. Everyone who had the cheesecake, gushed about how great it was, and Laura was beeming with her crazy MARTHA STEWART EYES.

Who makes Cheesecake, or anything for that matter of fact for a professor. It is just weird and not something college kids, or any kids do. I mean i barely say hi to my professors around campus, yet alone have two Food Channel looking cakes, sitting on their desk on their BDAYS. And she made a Handmade card, i mean like it was made from someone at Hallamrk. SHe constructed a cake on the card, with glitter and cute little saying on it. It was disturbing. And tasteless in my opinion. I mean WHO DOES THAT. A CAKE? CARD? WHAT?

So after they finish the cheesecake, we go over Reader Response. Which is basically taking a poem or a short story, and relating it to personal experiences. Though this seems really easy, i've been having problems writing about personal experiences that my class will eventually read. So i've had a sort of writers block of late on my essay, which if turned into today would have gotten me extra credit. But if i turned it into it would have been half assed, and something i wasn't proud of. So i'm turning it in the regular due date, and hopefully i will be proud of it, and she will give me an A. Of cours Laura brought in hers today, of course.

For the past weeks we have been bringing in poems or songs, bringing them to class, getting into small groups of 3, discussing the poem, and them 1 person from each group would discuss what the poem meant to them, and give a thesis statement. Today i didn't have a poem, so luckily i didn't have to present. So for about 20 minutes we discussed our poems, i listened to my 2 groupmates. And then presentation began. B/c it is a personal response, most of them would be personal stories, so we opened ears we listened.

The first guy went, did a good song, talked about how it reminded him of the relationships with his friends. Done.

Then Laura went.

She clutched the poem to her chest, and began. Reciting the poem with deliberate slowness, making it sound all dramatic. I almost feel asleep. After she is done with her poem, she tells about her senior year in High School(she is a freshman)

Laura:[Creepy MS eyes, Monotone voice, once again she speaks in weird silence and stress of words]: This POEM reminded me of.....HIGH SCHOOL. I was doing bad things in highschool...me and....my friends....would SKIP...and go to the WOODS...and do really....bad....THINGS....i was REALLY....bad. We....usually did THESE...bad things...with...BOYS. We were real....BAD. about 2 weeks ago...my friend...OD. This poem reminded me of that.

So while she is speaking, this girl behind me, gets up and exits the room. The teacher looks her in the face, and it is evident that the girl has started crying. I mean CRYING. My attention is now on the door, but when i turn back to Laura, she hasn't broken a stride in her speech. Like watching a lifetime movie, with bad acting, and uncomfortable moment she continues.

This is the most uncomfortable it gets for me. The girl comes back in and though she has stopped crying. Her eyes are red, she is holding back tears, and the people in her group and doing the "are you okay" whisper. The military boy is almost grabbing her hand, and reassuring her that it will be okay. Now what Laura did next was the icing on the cake. I guess seeing that her story had taking affect, she said the next line as if she was reading a script. As if this was a lifetime movie, and at the end they have that long speech, where everything makes sense and yadda yadda yadda.

Laura: If i was to make a thesis for this paper...it would be...LIFE...[longest pause i have heard in the history of pauses]...is...Rough....and the good....oh how good they are[by this time i am rolling my eyes, and holding back the laughter]...Die young...and she....left us...to....SOON.

And then as dramatically as she stood up, she sits down.

Weirdest thing i have ever seen in my life.

I mean, the whole class was quiet. We have no idea what just happened. Girl behind me is still crying, the teacher who is stuffing her face with cheesecake says "very nice" and then Aubrey has to get up and say her poem

Aubrey: I don't know if i want to go after that

My thoughts exactly.It was so awkward and in my opinion inappropiate. The whole cheesecake thing, the making the card thing, her crazy act thing. I was freaked out, I meani heard of brownie points, but this tip the scale, this is way off center, this has left the ballpark and entered a new hemisphere.

I've figured it out. I'm not weird. Everyone else is here. Completely crazy. I was mortified by the whole show. And the girl kept crying the rest of the class, which lasted for another uncomfortable 30 minutes. Everyone is giving their condolensces, though they don't know what happened. I'm thinking everyone has just went crazy, teacher is still munching on cheesecake, Mike isn't their to revel in this awkwardnessm, Laura is staring at something on the floor with crazy intent. And i make a dash for the door soon as she says we can leave. I have never felt so dirty in my whole life, and took another shower when i came back to my room.

After that though, i had an amazingly good laugh at the whole thing(not at the crying girl though, that was pretty sad) but at the slew of craziness that happens during the day. Needless to say it put me in a better mood, because though i have my extremely pitying days, and personal issues to figure out just as the next person, i am not as crazy as i think i am. Or at least i don't rub that craziness off to people.

Yesterday i got a knock on the door saying that a male visitor was waiting down stairs for me. I stared at the girl as if she was crazy because i have never had a male visitor. She describe him almost the way my crush looks. Tall, dark hair(which in the rain is curly, like he has just rolled out of bed), kind of green eyes. The person downstairs said that i had meet him in Barnes and Noble. I was still drawing a blank. Yes i am a bookstore whore and i spend my free time reading books that i won't buy, but no i don't make a habit out of picking up men there. I was in my pj's, so i just grabbed my keys and made my way downstairs. My heart was racing, maybe art boy found out what room i lived in and wanted to talk about the "club", maybe in my craziness i had forgotten that i talked to someone in Barnes and Noble(one is located on Campus), maybe i meet him last year. But i was hoping it was art boy. As i pushed open the door i saw...

Well not art boy. Unless art boy is a PIMP. I mean a literally PIMP. Yes he was tall, yes he had dark hair, and greenish/ blue eyes, viggo mortensen-isgue in the face. But he also had gold fronts and a pimp cane. Okay i didn't techinically see a cane, but i imagine it is in his car somewhere. Luckily he said i wasn't the girl, and i slinked off relieved i wasn't the girl he was looking for.

Time to eat my burrito, and study for my Spanish Exam Tomorrow. And i go home tomorrow. YEAH.