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wanna make him stay up all night
Jan. 25th, 2006 06:15 pmI’m an idiot. I overslept and missed my Ancient Literature class today, and I even like the class. I like Koper. He’s groovy.
I got locked out. I figure that’s for the best, actually. Bit of a wakeup call. I’m not going to be able to stroll in late anymore. PUNCTUALITY.
This means I won’t be able to go to bed whenever the fuck I feel like it. Offline by 2:30, in bed by 3. Otherwise, I don’t get enough sleep, I hit my alarm clock and roll back over, and I wake up at 11:55 with 5 minutes to get to class. Not enough time.
So, I ask for a favor from my online buddies: If you’re talking to me at 2:30 AM on YIM or something, TELL ME TO GET TO BED. I will not listen to myself saying, “Hey Rachel, don’t you think you should get some sleep?” I will listen to other people telling me to do it.
Developmental Psych was unusually interesting today, though. The teacher gave us a special treat and let us watch childbirth movies! No, I’m serious, she’d been talking about it all week, and I was looking forward to it.
The first one was pretty straightforward, talked about teratogens and prenatal care. It was kind of a Goofus-and-Gallant thing.
“Goofusina got knocked up when she was 15! Gallantia waited until she was 30!
Goofusina is NOT MARRIED! Gallantia has a husband who wears a pocket protector!
Goofusina smokes! Gallantia bitches to people around her about how she’s pregnant and they should put out their cigarettes!
Goofusina sits on the couch drinking Dr. Pepper, eating Doritos, and watching “Leave It To Beaver”! Gallantia has her husband rub her feet while she breathes funny and munches on pear slices!”
The second one showed babies popping out of wombs. I mean, they just slid out like watermelon seeds. Where do they get these women? Mom talks about the 30 hours she was in labor with me. Where were the forceps and screaming and throttling Dad and EW THEY ARE CUTTING HER OPEN. I’m never having kids ever.
The third one was based on a Desmond Morris book, and was actually really interesting. Showed how Russian babies are wrapped in swaddling clothes, still—we saw one getting wrapped up. He didn’t look happy. He was glaring from side to side. “What is this? I can’t move. I want to snuggle with my mom, not be wrapped up like a burrito. Where is my mother? Where have you ingrates taken her? Oh, you guys are in for it now. Just wait until I struggle out of these nice warm blankets, you bitches are gonna pay. I’ll drool on you, I mean it.”
Also showed a hippie lady doing natural childbirth. Her 10-year-old daughter was sitting next to her, holding a blanket. The baby looked a lot happier, though; it got to sleep on Mom’s chest right after it came out of the womb. No screaming or glaring, just a soft little mucous-covered baby sleeping like a kitty.
The most unique thing about the third one? Acknowledgement of the existence of ugly babies. There wasn’t a narration saying, “And though their mothers all think they are beautiful, some babies are just really ugly. I mean, look at this one! What the hell, was its father Zippy the Pinhead or something?” but there clearly wasn’t a “cute baby” screening or anything. Some of them were truly ugly babies. Real babies, and that rocks. You never get to see ugly babies in movies or commercials or anything. I liked it. Ugly babies have character.
Anyway, point is that I’m doing my paper for that class on harlequin babies. That’s right, these poor little things. (Warning: Image not safe for anyone.)
I love being able to pick your own topic in classes. It’s so great. In elementary school, we always had to just do these very vague, across-the-board papers: “Write about Israel.” “Write about weasels.” We couldn’t do “A Study Of The Exodus Of Hebrew School Teachers From Israel To West Bloomfield,” for example. If I’d done a paper on birth defects, I’d have mentioned that birth defects exist, and that’d be it. I would have never been able to do one just on Harlequin babies.
So I have a lot of research to do, on this and everything else, and it ought to be fun as hell. I should probably spend tonight reading and everything, since I’ve been slacking off on my texts lately. Texts first, then the fun stuff. Get freaking motivated, Rachel. Just because you’re finally making friends doesn’t mean you slack off.
Actually, I’ll probably take a rest from reading tonight in order to babble about fanfiction or something. But until then!
I got locked out. I figure that’s for the best, actually. Bit of a wakeup call. I’m not going to be able to stroll in late anymore. PUNCTUALITY.
This means I won’t be able to go to bed whenever the fuck I feel like it. Offline by 2:30, in bed by 3. Otherwise, I don’t get enough sleep, I hit my alarm clock and roll back over, and I wake up at 11:55 with 5 minutes to get to class. Not enough time.
So, I ask for a favor from my online buddies: If you’re talking to me at 2:30 AM on YIM or something, TELL ME TO GET TO BED. I will not listen to myself saying, “Hey Rachel, don’t you think you should get some sleep?” I will listen to other people telling me to do it.
Developmental Psych was unusually interesting today, though. The teacher gave us a special treat and let us watch childbirth movies! No, I’m serious, she’d been talking about it all week, and I was looking forward to it.
The first one was pretty straightforward, talked about teratogens and prenatal care. It was kind of a Goofus-and-Gallant thing.
“Goofusina got knocked up when she was 15! Gallantia waited until she was 30!
Goofusina is NOT MARRIED! Gallantia has a husband who wears a pocket protector!
Goofusina smokes! Gallantia bitches to people around her about how she’s pregnant and they should put out their cigarettes!
Goofusina sits on the couch drinking Dr. Pepper, eating Doritos, and watching “Leave It To Beaver”! Gallantia has her husband rub her feet while she breathes funny and munches on pear slices!”
The second one showed babies popping out of wombs. I mean, they just slid out like watermelon seeds. Where do they get these women? Mom talks about the 30 hours she was in labor with me. Where were the forceps and screaming and throttling Dad and EW THEY ARE CUTTING HER OPEN. I’m never having kids ever.
The third one was based on a Desmond Morris book, and was actually really interesting. Showed how Russian babies are wrapped in swaddling clothes, still—we saw one getting wrapped up. He didn’t look happy. He was glaring from side to side. “What is this? I can’t move. I want to snuggle with my mom, not be wrapped up like a burrito. Where is my mother? Where have you ingrates taken her? Oh, you guys are in for it now. Just wait until I struggle out of these nice warm blankets, you bitches are gonna pay. I’ll drool on you, I mean it.”
Also showed a hippie lady doing natural childbirth. Her 10-year-old daughter was sitting next to her, holding a blanket. The baby looked a lot happier, though; it got to sleep on Mom’s chest right after it came out of the womb. No screaming or glaring, just a soft little mucous-covered baby sleeping like a kitty.
The most unique thing about the third one? Acknowledgement of the existence of ugly babies. There wasn’t a narration saying, “And though their mothers all think they are beautiful, some babies are just really ugly. I mean, look at this one! What the hell, was its father Zippy the Pinhead or something?” but there clearly wasn’t a “cute baby” screening or anything. Some of them were truly ugly babies. Real babies, and that rocks. You never get to see ugly babies in movies or commercials or anything. I liked it. Ugly babies have character.
Anyway, point is that I’m doing my paper for that class on harlequin babies. That’s right, these poor little things. (Warning: Image not safe for anyone.)
I love being able to pick your own topic in classes. It’s so great. In elementary school, we always had to just do these very vague, across-the-board papers: “Write about Israel.” “Write about weasels.” We couldn’t do “A Study Of The Exodus Of Hebrew School Teachers From Israel To West Bloomfield,” for example. If I’d done a paper on birth defects, I’d have mentioned that birth defects exist, and that’d be it. I would have never been able to do one just on Harlequin babies.
So I have a lot of research to do, on this and everything else, and it ought to be fun as hell. I should probably spend tonight reading and everything, since I’ve been slacking off on my texts lately. Texts first, then the fun stuff. Get freaking motivated, Rachel. Just because you’re finally making friends doesn’t mean you slack off.
Actually, I’ll probably take a rest from reading tonight in order to babble about fanfiction or something. But until then!
