Then I learned something disheartening: I'm probably getting a B in the class I took over the summer. Now, I know what you're thinking, because I've heard it all before: "So? That's great! Why is this disheartening?" But here's the thing: I've had a 4.0 GPA since I started school. I like that I have a 4.0 GPA. It's better for applying for scholarships, for one thing, and for another, well, frankly, it's satisfying to see my hard work rewarded, and it’s nice to brag a bit. I was a terrible, terrible student in high school (and apparently also in grade school, I found out recently when my mom moved and handed me a folder with every single report card from kindergarten on up through senior year of HS (oh, moms)), largely because I didn't care. I hated being there and didn't give a crap about the work. Now, I care. I want to do well, and I have busted my ass sometimes and I have done well. Not only that, but this was a first-year-level Anthropology class. Who doesn't get an A in a first-year-level class? It's like a high school class, for crying out loud! Worse, there goes my average, because once you lose a 4.0, you can never get it back, ever. Even if I get As for the rest of my college career, I can never get higher than 3.999[...] ever again. It really knocked me for a loop. I realize it seems silly, but it has to do with the personal pride I take in the quality of my work as a student. If only I had taken a physical class. I think I do so well in all my classes in part because of the participation. I mean, let’s face it, I have a sparkling personality, and that doesn’t come across so well in discussion postings that are on a message board. There’s a name, but other than that, you’re just some words on a screen, thoroughly independent of who you are as a whole person, or a whole student. (Ugh. See? Whiny.)
But then, something amazing happened. I went home from work and put on the A.C., got into my jammies, ate half a leftover turkey and provolone sandwich, poured myself a glass of wine, grabbed my box of Bottle Caps, and sat down to a virtual movie date with a group of rambunctious, crazy, wonderful people. My day immediately improved for the better by about 98%. See, a couple of weeks ago, my friend Lainey Bobainey and I sat down in front of our televisions a couple of states apart and chatted while we both watched Galaxy Quest. A virtual date, if you will. We had such a wonderful time of it, we decided that we should do it again. Well, we did do it again, last night, only we were joined by the aforementioned group, which included Lizzie Borden, Figgy, Snuggiepants the Deathbringer, Sarina, DoranAdmin, jim of the lower case, JustBill, Branded, jM, Melody, replica, and a Giant Panda (as well as others I'm sure I'm forgetting and sorry! to those I am). Oh, how I laughed and laughed. This time, we watched Fear, and amazingly awesome 1996 movie starring Marky Mark and Reese Witherspoon, joined by Amy Brenneman as Helpful Stepmom, Alyssa Milano as the best Best Friend ever, and William Peterson as Concerned Dad. Oh, yeah, and Dude Friend (who, as it turns out, was also in the equally amazing Lifetime Television For Women Original Movie Mother May I Sleep With Danger, which might explain why he seemed familiar). If you haven't seen it, by the way, I HIGHLY recommend you do. It's just.... well, it's flat out amazing. Amazing that it didn't completely destroy the careers of those involved.
So, thanks to those nutty nutjobs and our shared loving of mocking terrible movies to pieces (probably that glass of wine didn't hurt, either), I managed to regain a terrific mood, and I've got a plan to at least try to get that grade up before he submits them for the semester (it involves crying and also possibly selling my soul). In spite of the fact that I did a terrible job of not whining (which, by the way, I felt so guilty about... thanks for that, Lainey), the day ended up with me really happy and looking at my problem with an eye toward fixing it, rather than wallowing in it. No Whining Wednesday was saved! Thanks, guys!