An excerpt
From the paper that's due tomorrow and is not done, but done enough for me tonight:
About the same time, I found myself briefly and unromantically involved with another student from my Introductory Mandarin Chinese class. We were both incredible opposites; he was a talkative, tall white guy with a curly blonde afro who was enrolled in the course because he was deeply interested in Chinese culture and language. Meanwhile I hid myself and my decidedly Mullet-like hair in corners, and enrolled because I had a horrible complex about being a twinkie, or jooksing; someone who looks Chinese yet is unknowledgeable of Chinese culture. I felt it was a necessary duty to my ethnic heritage to suffer the rigors of Chinese eight times a week and still I felt unsatisfied as I did after eating another bland meal in the cafeteria, although my fried-foods binge had ceased. When Derek[1] asked me if I wanted to study together, I eyed him warily because he was the one who was always asking questions, always volunteering to speak, and always talking the TAs while the rest of us surreptitiously scratched our names into the wooden desks or fantasized about not being there. I surmised that if he wasn’t going to study with me because I was a brilliant student, then he wanted to study with me because he was a sexual fetishist of some sort, the kind with Asian porn religiously bookmarked and categorized on his browser. Despite of this creepy conclusion, I said yes, secretly hoping to confront him, smack his perverted –yet talented— brains out with our heavy course reader, and make him repent.
[1] Name changed to be polite
About the same time, I found myself briefly and unromantically involved with another student from my Introductory Mandarin Chinese class. We were both incredible opposites; he was a talkative, tall white guy with a curly blonde afro who was enrolled in the course because he was deeply interested in Chinese culture and language. Meanwhile I hid myself and my decidedly Mullet-like hair in corners, and enrolled because I had a horrible complex about being a twinkie, or jooksing; someone who looks Chinese yet is unknowledgeable of Chinese culture. I felt it was a necessary duty to my ethnic heritage to suffer the rigors of Chinese eight times a week and still I felt unsatisfied as I did after eating another bland meal in the cafeteria, although my fried-foods binge had ceased. When Derek[1] asked me if I wanted to study together, I eyed him warily because he was the one who was always asking questions, always volunteering to speak, and always talking the TAs while the rest of us surreptitiously scratched our names into the wooden desks or fantasized about not being there. I surmised that if he wasn’t going to study with me because I was a brilliant student, then he wanted to study with me because he was a sexual fetishist of some sort, the kind with Asian porn religiously bookmarked and categorized on his browser. Despite of this creepy conclusion, I said yes, secretly hoping to confront him, smack his perverted –yet talented— brains out with our heavy course reader, and make him repent.
[1] Name changed to be polite
posted by ML at 10:35:00 PM
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