So this semester proved to be extremely boring- no scrubbing hands to death to get rid of the coating of super-duper glue, no screaming at a stupid computer that keeps getting stuck in a middle of a project, and not a single drop of artsy-farsty goodness. Instead, it was just staring with complete and utter exasperation at a fan overhead as an English professor who does not speak English taught the students that using “so” before a word automatically deems it good, and listening to some ass with a patch on his shoulder toss around very sexist comments.
Yet, as they say in Arabic, “il-7aq yoqal” (the truth has to be spoken), and Military Science didn’t turn out as bad as I thought it would. They had some interesting classes in “Selselet Mo7adarat il 3oloom il 3askareyeh” (the starting sentence of my morning, every single day, for the past 6 weeks), and they even got a hottie pilot who was the centerpoint of overheard conversations in the girls’ part of stadium for weeks to come. Yet, notice in the picture above that the class is spent doing homework for other classes (look at the girls with the calculators), or in my case, catching up on my reading.
The real bummer of the summer and the star of the show was the “advanced” writing class, mainly spent talking about why you can never say “I were there” and how you cannot capitalize randomly. It’s amusing that these students are actually specializing in English and yet they do not know the simplest rules of the English language. Admittedly, I’m the kind of student who’s a pain in the ass, but this course was so stupid and so unchallenging that I decided that staring at a fan every day for an hour is more rewarding. But seriously, look at the below sentence that was marked wrong. Ok, I was wrong with the number, but I know my sentence is correct.
Needless to say, even with the excess of syntax lessons in a writing class, I still do not have the slightest idea what a future perfect continuous verb is and I still cannot differentiate between the passive and the active voice, just like I don’t know the multiplication table and how I can’t tell a maf3ool from a maf3ool behi.
So there we go, and with a week-and-a-bit left for the summer semester to show us its lovely backside as it walks out the door, I’m getting excited about the next year- my final year at the UofJ.
15 more credit-hours divided over two semesters, compared to the 19++ credit-hours I had to take in each term last year. Five classes ALL from our department, namely “Dance and Rhythm” (a dancing class, in JU, as a department requirement, are we awesome or what?), “Modern Art Theories”, “Post Modern Art”, “Islamic Aesthetics”, and “Computer Design 2”. One graduation project to go with exact professor I wanted for an advisor. Life should be good next year.
Man… this is proving to be a long post and I hate writing long posts cause I have a hard time reading other people’s long posts. Has this been hard to read?