In which my lit class rocks the institution

Not really, but you probably know what I mean . . .

Yesterday, I went to my 9:00 and then I had a smoothie because the eating places were closed and then I went to work and then to my 5:00.

My 5:00 is very interesting. I was almost late to class and when I walked in, the professor was engaged in a discussion with the class on . . . I don't remember what, exactly. They somehow deviated to computers and my prof said, "You're safely in the hands of a paper person. I've never turned on a computer in my life." Dr. Holm is an older fellow -- perhaps in his sixties. He has a longish, whitish beard and messy, sticky-upish (and sticky-all-over-the-place-ish) whitish hair. He turned out to be rather eccentric. When he started the class, he first took role. When I told him to call me MJ, he said, "I love seeing all these perfectly good names that your mothers gave you that never get used . . . " I only do it because it's easier to remember than my real name. Then he handed out the syllabus -- a hand-written, photocopied affair that completely deviated from the standard syllabillical norm. You know how most syllabi will start out? Prof's name, contact info, and office hours, followed by course objective and outcome, the required texts, followed by expected behavior from students, then grading, a description of any assignments that may be given, and then a schedule of readings, quizzes, assignments and exams. This one had the prof's info (minus office hours, I believe), the required texts, then the schedule of readings -- but only up until the middle of Sept. -- and then a note saying that as Lit. majors, we really ought to "sigh and write the check" for the entire Norton Anthology of American Literature and keep all 5 volumes until we're 90. (So, does that mean we can burn them the day after our 90th birthday?) He explained the texts that we have to buy and then he started talking about the Puritans and how they considered everything they did, thought or said to be a sin. Then he went off on a tangent about The Great Gatzby and how North Dakota is full of German farmers who eat hotdish. I was pretty much giggling throughout the entire 2 hour class. It totally rocked. After a while, he started talking about ancestry and how we tend to not know where we've come from or how long we've been here (in America) and he said, "By the way, do we have any Yankees in the class?" We all sat there like bumps on logs cuz we didn't know what he was talking about. (I had visions of Northerners and Southerners during the Civil War dancing through my head -- how would I know?) Finally, he said, "The first people to sail to America were called Yankees." I said, "Oh -- I am!" He looked at me and said, "You're kidding! I've never had a Yankee in one of my classes before!" He asked about my ancestors and when I told him that I'm a descendent of John and Priscilla Alden, he asked if I'd read Bradford's Diary (which we'll be reading in the class) or Walt Whitman or Longfellow. I told him I'd wanted to read Bradford's Diary but I never got to and that I had read Longfellow and he's my favorite poet. (What I didn't tell him was that Longfellow being my favorite poet isn't saying much because I hate poetry with a burning passion from deep within my soul.) We talked about Longfellow's poem, "The Courtship of Miles Standish" and then he was about to talk about something completely different, but before he changed the subject, he stopped and looked at me and said, "You seem far too cheerful to carry the guilt of the Puritans within you." I so could have said, "It's interesting that you brought that up . . . " and explained that I was raised in a very much Puritan background and I used to be just how he thought the Puritans should be, but God has completely freed me of that bondage by the blood of Jesus and now I live in freedom and victory -- in spite of the guilt of the Puritans.

God has been good. I went to pay what I had to pay the school today and it turned out that the figures I had been given were wrong. I had been told that after I paid the almost $300 that I HAVE to have paid by 9/2, I would still owe the school $1750. I went in today to pay, and they told me that I only had to pay $222 and after that was paid, I'd only have to pay $1280. They told me that a payment had been made on 8/2 for $332. I have no idea where it came from -- I can only say it must have been God. They told me that they had put some of my workstudy checks in there, but there were no checks because I had picked them up and cashed them after Spring Break and there's no way I would have made THAT much money in the first 8 weeks of classes. I had allowed them to take my first 4 checks because I owed about $250 -- that would be a total of $482 and I don't think I worked that many hours. I'm totally confused, but oh, so thankful. It makes it a LITTLE more doable -- I'm much more likely to make the $1200 that I owe in the next 6 weeks than I am $1750. :-)

I feel like a jerk cuz I was mean to Matthew on Monday. But I have to make it clear to him that I'm NOT going to take his crap anymore. It's just too bad that someone significant was sitting across from him at the time. I hope he realizes that it's just a "Matthew, you don't control me" thing and not that I'm really mean . . .
~MK