Why God Why

So apparently they switched up our instructors and, though I still have the Bane of My Existence for Phys on Tuesday nights, I now have THE WORLD'S WORST INSTRUCTOR EVER for Monday nights (thank god it's only for two hours).

I take that back--the Oscar for World's Worst Instructor Ever still belongs to my late great Ethics instructor (who I believe has since been fired). (Shockingly, she even beat out stiff competition from some of my high school instructors, one of which was 100% Grade-A crazy and would scream at us whenever we walked past the windows because she had a fear that we would fall out. And yet still, my Ethics instructor won by a landslide. That's some grade-a quality shittiness. But anyways...)

Now, I know I bitch a lot about many of my instructors at school, but I will readily admit that even the ones that bring me angst (like the Bane of My Existence, or the bitch I had my second semester whose shared dislike for one another neither of us even attempts to hide anymore) have taught me fairly well. Some better than others, of course. But I've learned (or at least been primed) well in their classes.

But this woman, o woe, peoples. I'm trying to give her the benefit of the doubt since it's the first week and I have a sneaking suspicion that they hired her last minute and threw her into this class with nary a word or explanation of how/what she should be teaching. But nonetheless--dear god.

I mean, she forgot the fricking syllabus/coursepack on the first day. I can't even tell you how many nightmares I've literally had in the last 8 years or so where I've forgotten to bring the syllabus to class on the first day--even after I was no longer teaching anymore, I *STILL* continued to have nervous nightmares about it. It's sorta like showing up to class and suddenly realizing you have no pants on. And even moreso in our A&P classes because basically the whole course hinges upon the coursepack as it's an outline of everything that we will be going over in class. And yet, she completely forgot to bring it.

The woman also takes about an hour to explain something that should easily take no more than 10 minutes to discuss. And then after doing so, she *REVIEWS* it. And by "reviewing" it, I mean that she literally repeats everything that she just said, just at a faster speed, and slightly less coherently.

She also is one of those people who reads directly out of the book for most of the lecture. And holy mother of god does this irritate me because why the hell should I drive all the way out there if I could sit down at home and teach this shit to myself? At least liven things up a bit. And know what the hell pages the material is on so that your fricking STUDENTS don't have to be the ones telling you every time you harriedly blurt "I can't figure out what page that is on."

And KNOW WHAT YOU'RE FRICKING TALKING ABOUT. This is my final point of contention--every A&P instructor I've had is able to talk about what they are teaching off the top of their heads. They are able to answer questions without looking the answers up. Occasionally one of them might be wrong, but then they correct themselves later.

This woman seems to have NO CLUE WHATSOEVER.

Every informative piece of her lecture has the cliffhanging quality of a really bad detective novel. "And the ligament that connects atlas to the axis is the... *DUH DUH DUH* (dramatic pause as she flips through pages to find the answer) the ATLANTO-AXIAL LIGAMENT!" Another mystery solved by the great Sherlock Holmes.

Pah.

So I'm gonna try to give her the benefit of the doubt. Try try try. But I know it's not just me--after one hour of last night's class, one of the other students told us first thing on break that he was switching to the day class. After only an hour of her lecture.

All I can say is PLEASE DEAR GOD LET IT JUST BE THAT IT'S HER FIRST WEEK OF CLASS, because if the pacing and animatedness she brings to the classroom doesn't improve at least (and if she doesn't stop reading directly out of the book the whole time), I am gonna have a very hard time staying awake and/or not stabbing myself in the eardrum out of boredom.

If nothing else, I guess the past year has made me realize that being a really good instructor isn't as easy as it looks, that it really *DOES* take mad talent to be good at teaching. So think about that a bit, and next time you bump into some instructor or another that really changed your life or whose class you absolutely adored and learned tons from, thank them. And maybe, just maybe, dry hump them a little in appreciation.

Oh My God! Did You See Her Butt? It Was, Like, SO BIG!

So apparently when I have to get up in front of people and speak, I suddenly turn into one of Charlie's Angels:

"Like, assisted suicide? It's, like, not good because it could, like, totally be manipulated by the HMOs since, um, like, they totally exploit the system to, like, make money and they've like totally shown this kind of track record by refusing people, like, TRANSPLANTS and stuff! I mean, transplants! I mean, like, really! Like people *DIE* when that happens! (pause) Assisted suicide! Don't do it!"

Yeah. Couple that with bright-red ears and burning flesh and a manic, wild-eyed expression and you have me during Thursday night's Ethics debate.

I hatehatehatehatehatehate standing up in front of people and speaking. The only time I *ever* had minimal success with this was when I had to give my Graduate Poetry-Reading in grad school--it actually went SO fantastic that it ranks up there as "One of My Most Memorable Experiences."

Then again, it also entailed me getting half-drunk beforehand (and sharing that fact with all my colleagues and students in a loud whisper-voice as well), which probably explains why it went so well.

But Thursday night--mother of god.

I am embarassed to say that, despite the fact that I have a degree in philosophy *and* literature (so I'm pretty good at constructing an argument), despite the fact that I can pick apart an argument in 5 seconds flat and watch it scamper away to some corner with its tail between its legs, despite the fact that I roll my eyes at the way folks argue in that class (apparently merely *defining* what gun control is can be considered a legitimate defense FOR gun-control), I am a blithering valley-girl when it comes to standing up in front of people and arguing my point.

Like. Totally.

100%

I got my second 100% on a quiz in ethics class last Thursday.

This would be much more impressive if there weren't actually multiple choice answers the likes of this on it:

The term "sexuality" encompasses biological, psychological, and ________ influences.

a) cultural, b) sociological, c) paranormal.

The Twilight Zone (Episode #314)

Just when I start to think that my ethics class couldn't get any worse...

A good chunk of time during the first half of my Ethics class last Thursday is spent with me trying to explain to the woman next to me what a "boner" is.

Then our instructor gives us the assignment of thinking up "ethical" issues that are important to us so that we could discuss them in class after break.

Ethical issues that fellow students came up with:

• The ethical issue of small people--
  "I have a problem with small people... You know, like, small people who have big mouths."



• The ethical issue of stupid people--
  "I hate stupid people." (This was actually the "ethical issue" my instructor contributed to the class.)



• The ethical issue of people who think they're better than everyone else.



• The ethical issue of Canadian people:
  Student #1: Canadian people are all so very very nice, you know?
  Student #2: Unless you're dealing with French Canadians. And that's a stereotype anyways, you know, that all Canadians are nice. [Not realizing he just stereotyped all French Canadians as assholes two seconds prior.]



• The ethical issue of George W.



• The ethical issue of homeless people--otherwise known as the ethical issue of rich people who go around pretending to be homeless so that they can get more wealth and how *they* apparently represent the common problem that is homelessness.



• The ethical issue of bringing your dog into the grocery store with you.

Ethical issues discussed prior to class:

• The ethical issue of whether pickles are good.



• The ethical issue of whether olives are good.

Meanwhile, as all of this takes place, I watch in awe as the girl sitting next to me very meticulously and studiously reads and highlights *EVERY SINGLE WORD* of *EVERY SINGLE SENTENCE* on two pages worth of our ethics book.

I reach out and feel my face and it feels fine. Then suddenly the group of surgeons surrounding my seat wheels around to look at me, and they *ALL HAVE DEFORMED PIG FACES!*

Doo doo doo doo. Doo doo doo doo. Doo doo doo doo.

Touch-a Touch-a Touch-a Touch Me

In an attempt to redeem my rants and raves about my Ethics class (and my constant need to poke fun at my instructor so as to not stab myself in the eye instead), I offer you up the following tidbit that I've learned in my reading for the class:

There is a reason that guys seem like such 24-7 hornballs when it comes to sex. And it makes sense.

Some of you may read this and find yourselves thinking, Duh--you didn't already think of that? But this is something to which, I guess, I've never given much thought.

In our weird, sexually-frustrated, ultra-conservative culture, parents have been "programmed" to stop being physically affectionate and/or touchy feely with their young boys once they hit a certain age. This happens with girls as well, but not in the same way--when girls reach a certain age, the touchy-feeliness between father and daughter stops out of fear, but it is not typically shut off between mother and daughter. And it is most definitely not shut off between female friends--girls continue to do each other's hair, sleep in bed with each other, hold hands, etc. Girls hug one another. Girls kiss. Girls are freer with their touch. With girls, the taboo of touch is nowhere near as powerful as with boys. Boys, however, hit a certain age and both parents stop offering up the intimacy of touch to them. For fathers, it's "taboo" for touch between two males. For mothers, it's considered a little bit weird (except on the rare occasion) to be touchy-feely with your boy. And god forbid a boy hug another boy, kiss another boy, hold hands, etc. As all of us know, you do anything of these things as a male, and your sexuality is immediately called into question.

So boys sort of get the shit-end of the stick. Once they hit a certain age, touch becomes associated with the "taboo." You shouldn't be touchy-feely with your dad because, well, it's just not very manly, and in fact, it's kinda... well... gay. Shh. And you sure as shit shouldn't be touchy feely with your guy friends, because that's WAY more unmanly and faggoty. Good god.

So where does that leave boys? Without the intimacy of touch.

And where does the intimacy of touch start to reenter their lives again? With sex. With masturbation. With fooling around.

So when you wonder why it is you can't hug your boyfriend without him getting a big hard-on over you, when you roll your eyes at how the careless touch of a hand on someone's shoulder at the bar opens the gateway to them hitting on you, when you become shocked to find out that the guy friend you are touchy-feely with in the same way you are with your girl friends wants to tap your ass, remember that fact: boys have inadvertently been programmed to associate touch with fucking because, after a certain age, that is the only arena in which touch enters their lives.

Guys and their fucked-up ideas about sex are as much an inadvertent (and oftentimes unfortunate) product of our fucked up culture as, say, women's body image issues.

This doesn't excuse their actions. It doesn't justify all the fucked up ways they let their sex-drive rule the world.

But it does explain things.

Wise Words from My Ethics Instructor

Most Thursdays, the only way I'm able to get through my two-hour ethics class is to entertain myself by writing down the completely ridiculous things my instructor says. I've decided to include my favorites on the sidebar (as I'm sure you've noticed). But I'm also gonna compile the rest here as they arise (so be sure to check back once in a while if you find her gems of wisdom as useful as I do):


"My parents paid for my school... I've never had a real job and I just kinda flutter through life."

"I was like 'Are you reading my note?'... And like two of my friends had sex with my boyfriend... and I'm still great friends with the guy."

Explaining why she's just leaving a videotape for us to watch instead of getting us a substitute instructor:
"I thought it would be better than a teacher coming in here not knowing what they're doing."

"Does life begin at the moment of contraception*?"

"If I took you to the strip club, that would be wrong."

"I sleep with my mom and my sister..."

"My brother thinks he's fat and he's not."

Reading from the book: "Most people prefer to initially take in information by one of three methods: auditory... I can't say that word*... or visual." [Word she skips over is "kinesthetic." We are in a massage school, need I remind you.]

"I'm one of those people who trips a lot and skips through malls."

"Oh good--you're on the same side I am."

More Things I Know About My Ethics Instructor's Life (But Really Wish I Didn't, And Could Give Two Shits About, For That Matter)

1. Her brother has a problem with diet pills.
2. Her younger sister is 11 years younger than my instructor (and my instructor has sneakily read some of her diary).
3. My instructor broke into and snooped around in her brother's house (at the request of her parents) looking for diet pills.
4. Her boyfriend is vain.
5. Her boyfriend has to have gum surgery because they put his veneers on incorrectly. He's going to have to walk around with tiny nubs of pointy little teeth for like 6 months.
6. Two of her friends had sex with one of her boyfriends in high school (see sidebar quote).
7. She sleeps with her mom and her sister.
8. She has no clue how to pronounce the following words: maleficence, kinesthetics, and conception.

Wise (and Absolutely Serious) Philosophical Question Proposed by My Ethics Instructor

"Does life begin at the moment of contraception*?"








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*And yes, she meant "conception." And no, she did not correct herself.

Things I Learned in Week 2 (Part II)

My ethics instructor likes to cuddle with her best friend on the couch--they're really into cuddling. Cuddling cuddling cuddling. Cuddling!

The reason that you toss and turn throughout the night is because your body is keeping you from having pressure develop on the spots pressing against the bed, which is essentially keeping you from developing big gaping bed-sores.

Med students kill an *awful* lot of their patients and do so nonchalantly.

My ethics instructor and her family are really close--they end up in each others' beds throughout the night. Cuddling cuddling cuddling!

All ethical issues are a dilemma. *Except* for the following, which has a right answer: "What would you do if you found out your spouse had a terminal illness and would die within the month BUT there was a drug that existed out there which would cure him/her and which was worth $1,000; *however*, the only place that was selling the drug was charging 5 million dollars for it? Keep in mind that you are to strip any legal routes and any fundraising routes from your answer (i.e. you are not able to raise the money or take the pharmacy to court)." The right answer: you do whatever it takes to get that pill and save your spouse! Life is more important than other things! Oh, and cuddling cuddling cuddling!

My anatomy instructor does a really really poor imitation of Arnold Schwarzenegger.

There are so many bones in the body that it makes me wanna wet my pants and cry and slobber some.

You should not fuck your clients.

And the ethical decision is...

To Like the Class?

Well, let's see...



And so the Magic Eightball of Ethics says the winner is...

Dislike!!! With a score of 97!!!

Hurray!