Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Luckiest Day Ever

As you might be aware, after being in that Art class for about 0.0000000001 seconds, I dropped it and added Problems of Modernism: 1913. This class is taught by the jolly, German, and very intelligent Reinhold Heller, and I like it.

A few weeks ago he mentioned that we were going to have a take-home midterm, and that he was giving it to us Thursday instead of Tuesday, and we'd havea whole week to work on it. So I waited for it.

And waited.

And waited some more.

On the way to class today I decided that we were getting the midterm THIS Thursday, because I enjoy talking myself into things. Like that my final is at thisandthis hour on thisandthis day, and that I'm arriving at thisandthis airport. That's JUST HOW I ROLL, and you've got to love it or hate it for the time being, but I'm planning on changing it. This planned event might be occurring next Wednesday at 2:30, but I think I'll have it Friday, just for the hell of it.

So I got to class, and I wasn't THAT surprised when I heard that the midterm was due THIS Thursday, and that he hoped everyone had received his email last Thursday. I just turned to the girl next to me and tugged at her sleeve with my eyes and mouth wide open, unable to utter a sound. And I spent the entirety of class trying to figure out excuses for why I hadn't gotten the midterm. My computer exploded. I had a major brain fart. I am blind. Because I couldn't just go up to him and tell him "Look, I think I'm not registered for your class, even though I clearly remember handing my pink slip in to the registrar to get into it, and I haven't noticed for the past 5 weeks."

At the end of class I settled on something like "I'm so dumb. I'm really sorry, I didn't have access to the CHALK website, so I assumed you didn't have one, and I didn't get your e-mail because I think there's a problem with my regsitration. Love me, please."

After he calmly listened to my explanation, he benevolently agreed to an extension, and that I go clear up stuff with the registrar. Which I dreaded, because registrar means RED TAPE and ADMINISTRATION and ALL MANNER OF NIT-PICKY PAPERS.

I got there to explain my problem, and was told that if I had the carbon copy of the pink slip, it would be no problem to re-register for the class. That's when my mind went into a tailspin, because this paper is smaller than the standard 8.5"x11". And it's thinner. I asked them if they didn't keep a copy of the pink slip, because I gave that to them, I know I did, and the lady pulled out a huge box of pink slips and said that yes, they're all kept, they just don't happen to be organized, and I should be her guest if I wanted to look through all of them.

I was pulling out my notebook, idly flipping through the pages, telling her "Look, due to the mind-boggling amount of papers I have this quarter, if the sheet is smaller than 8.5"x11" I'm not keeping it unless it's gold plated, has a disco ball and spotlights attached to it, regularly dispenses money, or unless it plays a recording of 'Billy Jean'" when lo and behold, on the very last page, there it was: the hallowed blue slip.

I nearly peed myself. Luckiest day ever.

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