Archive for February 8th, 2010

February 8th, 2010

a funny story and then some

I’m taking a “Race and Ethnic Relations” class that is meant to open my eyes and broaden my currently narrow mind to other races, ethnicities, cultures, religions, beliefs, etc. I call it my “racist” class due to some teacher-student comments and the pointless class discussions we’ve had.

I discovered my power over other females in the third grade, and ever since I’ve been using my manipulative, engaging, irresistible power to create little fan clubs, or “girl packs” as I will refer to them. I have established one of these girl packs in my racist class in order to cope with the general lack of intellectualism (basically, the class is a waste of everyone’s time, so far, maybe he’s saving the juicy stuff for later).

Moving on to my semi-funny story (this really isn’t a funny ha ha story, it’s more of a funny huh? story).

There are four of us in my girl pack. We sit in the same place every class, in the same order. We share notes, side glances, eye rolls, the occasional sarcastic remark, tallies on how often the professor talks about food, and bets on when he’ll randomly start yelling. This has been going on since day one of class. About two weeks into the course, some random girl sat at the end of our row and tried to get in on our girl pack. Not that I’m opposed to more members (this is a class about how bad discrimination is, after all), but she went about it in really weird ways. Over the last few weeks, she has continued to sit by us and give the impression that she’s too cool for us, while saying with her body language that she wants to be included. I don’t care if she sits by us or wants to be in our little girl pack, I really don’t. We talk to her and generally include her in our time-wasting efforts.

I walk into the lecture hall today and there is a girl sitting in the middle of where the girl pack sits. I walk down the row to discover that it is this same girl who has been trying to infiltrate the girl pack for weeks, only with a haircut exactly like mine. She sat right in the middle of the girl pack. I couldn’t stop staring at her hair. It’s eerily like mine. I emphasize: eerily like mine.

I tried for the whole hour to figure out if it’s all in my vain head or if she’s really weird like that. No conclusion was reached.