I realized something about myself last night and I am somewhat ashamed of it. I had my marketing class last night and I made a point of sitting in a different spot because I didn’t want to be in a group for the final project with the people sitting around me from the first week. I told myself it was because the guy sitting next to me was quite arrogant. (He kept going on and on about this cool job he had in Taiwan and all the people under him and blah blah blah something about wearing gold-plated diapers).
But I was forced to come to terms with the other underlying reason for my not wanting to be in their group…they were foreign. I know I’m a horrible person, I get it, but before you get all judgey on me I have to tell you that there is a really big group paper due at the end of the quarter. So what if I want to be in a group with the white people who can probably write well? I am so going to hell.
What happened last night to cause this epiphany is the prof (still with the popped collar) was talking about fidelity in terms of movies means how “faithful” they are to reality. At this point some kid in the back of the classroom raised his hand and said in a very strong accent that he thought the teacher didn’t know what the word faithful really meant and was using it in the wrong context and he continued to harp on it until the teacher used “accurate” instead.
All I could think was if I were a student at a school in France I wouldn’t be arguing with the teacher about the correct meaning of French words. But that’s just me, crazy “where are my pills” me! Later another international student got in a friendly debate with the teacher about the difference between convenience and flexibility.
So sue me that I don’t want to be in a group with them and instead want to be in a group with the nice girl who is just happens to be from the U.S. of A. and happens to work in Marketing and, yes, I talked to her on the way to our cars and I think I’m golden if I get in a group with her. Let me tell you I breathed a huge sigh of relief on the way home knowing that I would have a group that spoke fluent English.
Although, that didn’t last long because I quickly realized I needed to head to a gas station or risk running out of gas on the freeway. Oopsies! Don’t want to do that again!
Showing posts with label popped collars are the devil. Show all posts
Showing posts with label popped collars are the devil. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
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