It has been a satisfying day for me.
You may wonder what happened at the sundial with the fried zucchini, but since I am very sneaky, none of you will ever know.
The zucchini was very good, by the way.
I remember that I promised you a story. "About this one girl," I said. "A story."
Well, dear reader, since you are so hopeful, I will tell it.
Once upon a time, I was sitting in my English classroom. The very hot one, with the phrase above the door:
ABANDON HOPE, ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE.
Okay, the phrase wasn't there. But it felt like it was supposed to be.
So I was sitting in class, minding my own business, and thinking of answers to the professor's question. She was a very nice professor, but since her identity must be kept secret, I will simply refer to her as Professor Chauceress.
Professor Chauceress had just looked out over the class, lifted her chin grandly, and declaimed, "Class, tell me all the possible reasons Chaucer wrote his Apologia at the end of the Canterbury Tales."
I twiddled my pencil and thought of several reasons, but since telling you all of them would bore you, I shall not. In the meantime, the other Students raised their hands and said a couple answers. I wrote them down in my notebook.
A certain girl in the front of the room raised her hand.
I did an inward groan.
"Professor Chauceress," she said, "I have a reason."
"Go on," said Professor Chauceress nicely.
"Well," the girl said, "Blah blah blah blah blah, blah blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blah blah."
"Very nice," said Professor Chauceress.
"But wait!" said the girl. "Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah!"
"Mmhmm," said Professor Chauceress. "That is good. Does anyone else have a reason?"
I gritted my teeth and gazed beseechingly heavenward. Perhaps...someone...anyone... Pleaseeee...someone talk...
The classroom was silent. Students eyed each other hopefully, but no one spoke.
The girl opened her mouth. "Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. But, blah blah blah blah! Blah blah blah blah blah, blah blah. So then blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. I think blah blah blah..."
Professor Chauceress assumed an expression of stolid patience. The clock ticked on. The Student in front of me sighed and took a bite of his sandwich. I drew my hood completely over my face, put my head in my arms, and closed my eyes.
I presume that you know where I am going with this. As you might remember, I told you that there were a few things I Disliked in the last post. One of these was "Repeatedly Loud and Know-It-All Students". This girl in my Chaucer class was one of them. Since you would need to understand Chaucer's Canterbury Tales to fully comprehend the annoyingness of this girl, I will not spend any more time on her.
However, a year ago, I had another Repeatedly Loud and Know-It-All Student in a different English class.
Since the title of these Repeatedly-Loud and Know-It-All Students is way too long, I will abbreviate it. RLKITA is the new title. Lovely, isn't it?
Hmm...never mind. It is too long. We shall call them the RKAs.
The RKA in this English class was a guy. He sat in the very, very, very front, in the very center aisle, in the very center desk. From this vantage point I presumed that all he could see was the professor's tie. I hope that gives you a definite understanding of exactly how close he was.
The RKA never wore anything to class but a suit. It was a black suit (he must have had at least five billion identical black suits) and he also wore a paisley tie (EVERY SINGLE DAY). This clothing accessory was a horrible mix of dark green and light yellow. I privately referred to it as the Vomit Tie. His hair was slicked back with gel, and his shoes clicked on the linoleum when he walked. They were black and polished and most possibly leather.
Whenever I came into class (which was when most of the class came in - remember, I am a Spy) he was sitting at the very, very, very front in the center desk, as he always did. On his desk was a briefcase and a glass of water.
The glass of water was set on top of a folded, pristine, white napkin, and the briefcase was a spotless black. When the RKA wasn't talking (which was rare) he was picking tiny bits of dust off his briefcase and running his hand over the smooth top. It was a constant mannerism. More than a few Students in the back row would whisper to each other and mimic him whenever he did it.
I, for one, avoided him, because he had another habit. He stared directly at people when they talked to him (or when they talked at all). It was odd, that intensely constant eye contact. Even when someone in the back raised their hand and spoke, he would turn all the way around in his chair and gaze penetratingly at them. Even if someone was the most courageous and confident Student of all time ever, this unbreakable stare always did the trick.
For example, this occurred quite often:
RKA: "Professor, I think that So-and-So said this in his poem. He is obviously protesting the Vietnam War, since So-and-So pointedly mentions black hairties in the first line. Later he mentions black leggings, and a few lines later he mentions black bracelets. He is clearly referring to the Vietnam War."
Professor: "True, true. So nice. Yes, Johnny?"
RKA pats his briefcase, stares hard at it, and picks off a minuscule piece of lint.
Johnny (a random student): "Professor, I think that So-and-So didn't mean to protest the Vietnam War through his writing. I think he was just interested in the color black. Maybe it was his favorite color or something."
RKA swivels around in his chair and fixes his eyes on Johnny.
(I cringe involuntarily and then hope that no one noticed.)
Johnny ignores RKA's piercing death-ray eyes, but his shoulders are stiff and his hands are gripping the edge of his desk.
Professor (oblivious): "That is very nice, Johnny. What else do you think?"
Johnny: "I think that... that.... that.... Um, well, I think that So-and-So... What are you staring at?"
RKA continues staring. He appears indomitable. He does not blink. He does not look away.
(I shiver in my chair and sink further down in the seat.)
Professor (still oblivious): "What exactly do you mean, Johnny?"
Johnny: "Actually, that's all I wanted to say." He stares down at his desk despondently.
RKA turns back around and fixes his eyes on the professor.
Professor (smiles pleasantly): "Class, please turn to page 127."
So, not many people in this class talked. Every once in a while someone would raise their hand and attempt to say something, but the RKA always crushed them. He Always Crushed them. ALWAYS.
RKA would talk for hours, but the professor didn't seem to care. He would sit down in his chair and steeple his fingers under his chin and smile genteelly at RKA, his eyes pleasantly interested.
Class seemed to take a thousand years.
The pain of this memory is giving me a headache. I will switch subjects abruptly.
Today was a particularly satisfying day for several reasons!
1. I ate fried zucchini.
2. Someone sent me fried zucchini.
3. I found the fried zucchini!
4. I went back to my dark and secret room and hung up my sixteen pairs of purple-striped socks. I put them in order from violet-colored to lavender. Then I closed my closet and smiled at it.
5. I sat at my table and reviewed my day.
6. I thought about writing another post.
7. I bought a car.
8. I talked to Tiffy.
9. I twirled around in my chair.
10. I lay on my back, ate more fried zucchini, and pretended that I was on a cloud floating magically in the sky.
Can anyone find the lie?
Hmmm? Hmmm?
Anyone?
Yes, you! The person with the scowl and also the bored expression!
Reason #7, you say?
I guess you are right. Okay, no, I did not buy a car. I never drive, and therefore I do not need a car.
But it would be nice if someone sent me a purple-striped bike. I am tired of walking everywhere.
For instance, today I had to walk all the way to CSUF. I mean, I live so far away! I live all the way in ________________!
I am not going to tell you where I live, dear reader, which is why that line is blank. But I do live far away.
If someone would follow my directions from yesterday and leave me a purple-striped bike chained to the sundial, with my name on a note tied to the handlebars, I would be very pleased.
Tip #12: Purple stripes equal joy and happiness. If you want to feel joy and happiness, wear purple stripes. Give someone purple stripes. Paint your house with purple stripes. Buy a purple-striped couch. Sit on the purple-striped couch while wearing purple-striped socks. Purple-stripe your hair. Go to the mall and wave at people.
Tip #13: Ties are not meant to be worn. They are meant for show. If you buy a tie, you are supposed to hang it in your closet and never touch it. Please do not wear ties. Whoever invented them was wrong.
Tip #14: Refrain from talking in class. It is best to keep your thoughts to yourself. Someone might be listening. I, for one, believe all the classrooms at CSUF are bugged, which is also why I do not use a laptop. If you have to write notes, write them on paper, so you can incinerate them later and thus avoid detection. If you have the time and the artistic ability, write with invisible ink. I hear lemon juice works quite well.
Farewell, dear reader.
