I miss school like a heartache.
I started Second City classes a week ago and I was assigned homework. Granted, it was fun homework (Watch Late Night television, write jokes), but it was still homework. And, as I struggled with why Diet Pepsi, with added ingredients to increase shelf life, deserves the time slot after Larry King, I remembered what it was like to have to do something because a professor told you to.
I love school. I love education. Learning new things energizes me. I can only compare it to the feeling when you finish writing a book. I want to run around and strike ballet poses while expressing my joy to inanimate objects. Leap through doorways. Dance with a mop. Just remember that moment when, after struggling over something for hours, your brain finally makes that last connection and it’s like a whole new world is illuminated.
And, it doesn’t matter the topic. Granted, I struggle more with certain subjects, but learning is fascinating. Perhaps I’m intrigued by the impetus of learning that school forces on me. Learn or fail. There’s no other option.
I love homework.
I love hauling out that ten pound textbook and pulling out the highlighter. Poring over that dense writing with no white space. Maybe a diagram every twenty pages…
My roommate, Randy, has gone back to school to become a nurse. Which makes me question whether or not I need to have a direction in mind. What are things that I would like to learn?
Physics is an option. But, I never took to calculus. I need a refresher in that. I could always try to finish out my psych major. In college, I pretended that I didn’t want to conduct social experiments, but I totally do. Human behavior is quite interesting (or maybe I’m just annoyed by all the political posts on my Facebook feed).
On a whole different level, perhaps education is my calling. Not necessarily the perpetual student on the level of Buster Bluth, but maybe my destiny is in education. Could I cut it as an associate professor somewhere?
I’m not about to abandon my dream of writing for television yet. All writers are captivated by knowledge. They’re seekers of truth, after all. This doesn’t change the fact that I really want to go listen to a professor.
If you could go back to school, what classes would you take? Answer in the comments to make me feel happy.
Do you know there are 7 guns for every 1 person in the United States?
I have no idea if that’s true. But, someone told me about it this weekend. I’m pretty sure he was a cult recruiter.
I sat at Starbucks, catching up with a friend. We do this once a month, usually Sunday afternoons, a nice leisurely chat. We talk about everything. Culture, books, politics, movies. She was my AP US History teacher and, damn, if I don’t love history. It’s amazing, speaking with someone who holds 30+ years of knowledge and education in her head.
As time wound down, I caught the eye of a stranger sitting at a nearby table. He adjusted his wireless headphones a few times and sucked on his pen, occasionally clicking a few keys on his keyboard.
Middle-age, hair graying at the temples, and astonishingly alert for someone who should have a head bent over their laptop.
He was listening.
At the time, I’m sure we were waxing philosophic (I’m still paying good money for my education, dammit).
He stood and approached our table, pulling the headphones down around his neck.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “But, I couldn’t help but overhear that last part of your conversation.”
My eyebrow cocked of its own accord, as it is wont to do when it hears crazy. You could help it. Turn up the headphones. Stumble across a cat video. Stand closer to the steam wand.
I couldn’t help but overhear means I was eavesdropping because you mentioned buzzwords.
“And?” I asked.
“I’m in charge of an organization…”
My eyebrow lifts higher.
“That is interested in protecting the American Constitution by bringing lawsuits against the government.”
“Mmhm.” By now, skepticism and suspicion oozed out of my voice.
The conversation continued, citing statistics of questionable origin. Keep in mind, I was talking to a US History teacher. US History often comes up in our conversations. I’m a writer, she’s a brilliant educator. Creativity loves to hang out with us.
“Have you heard of the Georgia guidestones?”
My eyebrows were back under my control, and I lowered them to a glare. “No.” (They exist, by the way, check them out here)
“They were written by a group you would know as the Illuminati.”
Jackpot. Crackpot jackpot. I love conspiracy theories.
Anyway, by promising to visit his website, I was able to save both myself and my mentor. Keep your eyes open. The Illuminati were more than just a plot point in a Dan Brown novel. If I join, does that make me a Templar…or how does that work, exactly?
Not sure. And that’s not even the craziest thing I’ve heard at Starbucks…
Besides joining a grassroots conspiracy organization, what can I bring to these maybe Templars? Not sure about that one, either, but if I remember anything from Lara Croft, the Illuminati want to control time for NO REASON IN PARTICULAR!!
Maybe next week, I’ll be updating my tumblr from my iPhone on a quest for the Holy Grail. I’m taking a fedora. And a whip.