Proclamation Of Ignorance

How old where you when you realized you didn't know as much as you thought you did?

When you realized all of the self-righteous, self-important pronouncements you had made about people you know, places you've been and things you've seen - was bullshit.

When you realized you don't really know what you want, and more than half the time you do not know what the fuck you are talking about.

Count it 40 years, one month and 2 days for me.

Today is the day I make my proclamation.

I don't know shit.

There, I said it.

Sometimes I get what I thought I wanted, it's not quite right and I don't want it.

Even when I think I know what to do, I'm just winging it, because I don't really know what to do, except to do.

Just when I think I have my wispy fly-away emotions under control - I implode, and am left to take to the bed until I can do.

Around the time I think I'm okay with me, I become distracted and obsessed by my too fat top half and not fat enough bottom half.

I don't know where home is anymore - and I don't know where I want to make a new home.

I thought I could work full time and go to school full time. Half the time I'm so tired, I wish I would get hit by a bus so I could have an excuse to be off from work and school. That way I could sleep a lot and no one could judge me for be the fuck up failure who just wants to sleep.

I thought I raised My kiddo to be independent and self-sufficient and level-headed. As the time quickly approaches for her to leave for college - I fear she may forget to go to class and be enticed to join the circus.

I don't know shit!

I'm amazed that I've gotten through 40 years without knowing anything.

It's a wonder I even make it through the day.

In a way, this proclamation has liberated me. I'm not sure how - because I don't know shit. But I think it has. Well, maybe not - I don't know. Shit!

Dear Professor, Will you marry me?

I'm in love with my math teacher.

He is a God in my eyes, and I must tell the world of his wonders!

HE HAS BEEN ABLE TO TEACH MATH TO ME !

I remember the first time I saw my mother cry on my account. I was in the 3rd grade, I think. Whatever grade you're in when you learn your multiplication tables. We called them "times tables" back then. Anyway, for as long as I can remember my brain has rejected numbers in any form. So the multiplication table thing was torture for me. I was even more exasperated because I did so well in any other subject. Well, I devised a plan to pass my "times table" test, and resume my post on the smart girl throne. Way back in the 14th century when I was 8 or 9 years of age the local insurance man gave out multiplication charts. They were printed on a small card with his advertising information on the other side. (In hindsight, that makes no sense. I could not purchase insurance when I was in the 3rd grade, so this ad was wasted on me and the other kids in the neighborhood. But, I digress.) It didn't take me long to give up any hope of memorizing the card. I decided to use it to cheat.

That's right folks, I began cheating in the third grade. I remember it plainly. My mother quizzed me on the 6's and 7's. I read from the card, which I held under the table, but still in sight. She said, "Great! You're ging to ace your test!" I thought to myself, "Yep, I sure am - thanks to Mr. So and So insurance Co." And pass it I did - Much to the suspicion of my teacher. She was not as easy a mark as my mother. Damn! Busted.

When I got home my mother called me into her room. She was lying down and I could tell she had been crying. Oh Jesus, what have I done? She asked me shy I had cheated. I have no idea what I said. I was so worried about how I had ruined her life and made her cry. (As an adult I know she was probably crying about some shit that had nothing to do with me cheating!) But it worked.

I never cheated again, and I never understood a damn thing about math. I was never tutored and I floundered miserably throughout middle and high school. I was more than happy to get that "D" at the end of every semester. No teacher ever said, "Maybe you need some extra help", my parents never put two and two together (maybe they couldn't count either), so they never said "this kid needs help in math."

My hatred/fear of math influenced the classes I took in high school and in college, the major I chose and many other choices throughout my adult life. When I returned to college two years ago I decided to tackle math again. I failed. That was a huge deal for me. I had never failed a class in my life. But, somehow I got over it. I decided to take the course over, and I'm glad I did.

This quarter everything changed. A light went off! A beam of light appeared through the darkness! I've been redeemed! I understand math! I like math! Math is great! This wondrous change in my life is due to my math instructor and the Lord Jesus himself. My instructor is great. The rest of the math rejects in my class, and I love him because he teaches us like we have no idea what he is talking about. He explains it to us as if it's the first time we have heard or seen it. Which is great because we don't and we haven't. I love him.

What I Learned In School Today

At the ripe old age of 39 I'm pursuing a college degree. It's been twenty years since I experienced college as teenager, and I thought things were wierd then. The world was strange and new to me then, new people new ideas......But, the world continues to be a strange place.

Here's what I learned in school today.

My instructor can have me and my classmates write our full names on a sheet of paper, stand in front of a wall holding said paper in front of us, and take our picture. Allegedly, so that he can view the pics later to learn our names. Hmmm.......

A student can bring three pounds of sliced turkey to class and eat it from plastic wrap with his fingers.

A student can attend a lecture drunk out of her skull. She can also laugh and cry loudly during said lecture.

An instructor can wrap a scarf around her neck twice, and pull on the ends strangling herself as she lectures.

An instructor can call his sister a "trifling bitch tramp" in class and it's fine.

An instructor may not be able to speak English, however he can teach a political science course and pronounce the word democratic as dem-ock-cra-tick.

Students may step out into the street in front of oncoming cars because, they are students and they have the right of way.

A student can purchase a book for $264.00, and sell it back to the book store at the end of the quarter for $3.44.

Thong underwear can be worn to class with very low cut jeans, so that the students sitting behind the wearer can gawk at the thong for the duration of the class.

Only two college students have proper shoes, the rest will be wearing flip flops.

When you fail a class you get an "E".


I have a daughter going off to college next year. I wish I didn't know what I know about college.