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 |  My random thoughts and reactions to my everyday life. The voices like a forum. |
| I do not know quite what happened or when , but my hubby and I now qualify for seniors' discounts at some venues. This creates a quandary; in order to save money, but not face, we have to admit to our age. HMMMM..... We definitely do not consider ourselves to be old. In this day and age ,when people as a whole are living longer and healthier lives why are 'young seniors', those in their fifties, like moi, considered 'old'?? It's so true that age is just a perception! "Maturity" is very objective/subjective, and I object! Whew, a few years have skittered by since I composed this biography block. Those "fifties" are in the rear view mirror and they are distant, fond memories. Oh, I do not plan to stop writing any time soon. |
| PROMPT March 20th Share a time when your mouth hung open in shock/awe/surprise/wonder etc. What was it that made you feel that way? It was my second year of university. I'd already made the mistake of queuing in the wrong line for registration. Apparently a marriage and a surname change meant I should've been in the line for the 'm's'. All the classes I'd requested were available and that made me happy. One course I'd enrolled in would feature creative writing and this excited me. The rest of my classes concentrated on scholarly English. Being free to create would be fun. Ya, right... For the first session of Creative Writing the professor seemed a bit distant, but hey, we were strangers. He spoke with the other students and avoided approaching me with a greeting. He stared at me a great deal and I just shrugged it off. I didn't know him, so I didn't feel as if we should've been familiar. For the second session, this professor took offense or disliked something I said. Perhaps I sensed he was treating the class as an English-as-a-second-language course and I asked about this. When I'd registered this had not been my understanding. Let me say I have always respected educators, I loved learning, and I earned top grades. He blew up! To say I was flabbergasted is an understatement. I had not been rude. We were adults and I anticipated civil , respectful behaviour. This did not end here. As if I was a misbehaving child in elementary school and summoned to the principal's office, I was requested to attend the office of the dean of English. Puzzled, I did as asked. Without preamble, the male official explained that he'd like me to drop this class. My mouth probably fell open. What? Did I not have the right to choose my classes? Had I not paid good money for those classes? And more importantly, why? The professor had complained immediately to this dean. He felt emotionally unprepared to see me and teach me everyday. My presence caused him undue stress. He was kidding, right? How could I have affected him, burrowed under his sensitive skin in just two brief sessions? The dean asked me to be reasonable.He pointed out that I was young. I should be flexible. Again, I felt confused. It was like pulling teeth, but finally he got to the so-called reason I irked his professor. Unbelievably, the prof claimed I resembled his recently ex-wife, and it had not been an amicable separation. And this was supposed to be my problem? Anyway, I thought this over and I realized that professor had some serious issues he was projecting onto me. Did I need that grief? Because the term had already begun, registration in alternate classes proved to be of slim pickings. I had to stitch together two part-time classes to replace the full credit one I'd been asked to leave. I also resented the fact that these two part-time classes were only offered in the evenings, and it would mean I'd have to return to the campus then after day classes. Ridiculous, no? |
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