I’m reading Psychic Shielding for Dummies (or something to that effect).
Although what I SHOULD be reading are articles and books on Equality, Ethnicity, Diversity, Oppression, and other school-related texts on sensitive social subjects that irritate me. Whoever said I could earn a Masters degree with only 60-90 minutes of work a night was a damned liar. It’s week one and I’m certain the instructors –excuse me, I mean professors–already despise me. For one, I belong to the George Bernard Shaw School of Punctuation (in that I don’t believe in it). Although for the sake of scholarly conformity, I pledge to try and play along. If there is punctuation here, it is because Microsoft Word auto-corrected me like a Butler chasing their naked Lord down the road, shouting “But Sir! Your coat!” When asked to give a fun fact about myself during class introductions, I said “I swing” (crickets.) “As in dance”. Tough crowd.
I’m sorry, what was the question again? Something about racial and ethnic labels, socialization, perceptions, and psychological dimension…Wait! Ethnocentrism! Yes! That was the word I’ve been trying to recall since I got my first degree that couldnt even land me a GS-5 position as a professional coffee-fetcher, I mean, office assistant. And I had to look up the definitions of ‘pejorative’ and ‘heuristic’. I fit in among these Sociology and Psych majors about as much as Elle Woods at Harvard Law.
This is a Masters program. Time to get no-shit serious.
I was grumbling about these assignments at first but that was an hour ago and two glasses of Ghetto Sangria (cheap wine, a shot of Henny, and a shot of Manischewitz) ago.
Now where was I?
I have no idea. I forgot to leave a trail of breadcrumbs and lost my place online and in the books.
I think I’m just going to watch another episode of Hemlock Grove and call it a night.