And the Best Thing

Right. The first thing I'm going to do under this newfound pressure of readership is to tell you about my records management class.

Outside of a couple of French classes, I haven't been back to school since 2001, when I left Dalhousie and library school behind. And this feels like real school. The Archives and Records Management program is an Algonquin certificate, and it feels like college. Exams and everything.

The class is an interesting mix. The teacher's a kook. And a talker. Lots of stories. And weirdly politically correct/incorrect. He made a big deal about not being able to pronounce a couple of the students names. Like he was trying to be nice and get their names right, but made such a huge production it ended up seeming more like their fault. Which the prof didn't intend, I'm sure.

And then, in another story, he pulls out the word "boogeyperson". Boogeyperson? How 'bout trying to stop saying things like "It's like it was all in Chinese, or something," before stepping up to gender equality for imaginary monsters.

Breakdown of our 14 student class is as such:
* 3 facial piercings (1 spiky labret, 1 lip ring, my septum piercing)
* 1 wooden cross necklace
* 1 pair high-heeled pointy toed boots
* 2 dykes (including me)
* 3 people who don't know when to stop talking

The other dyke in the room was that kind of skinny, rugby-shirt tucked into pleated jeans, limp-haired, lookout sort of dyke. And I hope she doesn't read this, because that was kinda mean. (Will I feel better if I note that her hair was a nice colour and looked very clean? Yes, I will.) She was also one of the people who talked toomuch. As was the woman with the cross necklace. The third was a guy who was just to weird to explain.

This all leads into the highlight of my day, which was scoring the $106 textbook, which the prof figured (at length) was about to go out of print, for $20, including shipping!, on eBay.

A good omen, I think.