In Your Face, Rockstar!

As all of you readers may know I'm attending college again (new reader? please check out the blog entry "Third-First Day of School"). We were given the task of impromptu speeches to do in my oral comm class, as an exercise of readiness and swiftness. As I'm sure you've guessed I go up in front of the class, dazzled everyone away with my charm and poise and return to my seat to the applause I well deserved. I owned that speech--and funny thing is, I honestly don't remember anything I said, due to my nerves. Good for me, Steven Shyne.

Other students face the gambit but their nerves get the best of them and they suffer through the whole speech. Well, another student approaches the front of the class and gave his impromptu speech on "if he were a rockstar" or something nutty like that. This kid is still in high school and attending City College at night to get a jump start on his college career. Anyway, he blows my speech out of the water and receives more whistling and clapping than I thought possible from a improv college speech class audience. He now is forever known as "Rockstar" due to the nature of his speech.

The next day he walks into class and everyone student, as well as the instructor, greets him as "Rockstar." He is smug with victory and basks in his impromptu glory. However I have an ace up my sleeve--it's called "current event speech." The assignment we previously had was an impromptu speech--a spilling of words off the cuff. Today we are exercising a more decided and planned approach to public speaking. I've been practicing and know my topic like the back of my hand. I waltz to the front of the room, deliver a mind-blowing account on China's inevitable acquisition of power and (after q+a) return to my chair satisfied and victorious. Rockstar--I'm sure--is shaking in his dirty little shoes at this point. Defeat is racing towards him like an impregnable, bony greyhound rounding the corner of it's last lap. He readies himself, presents his current event and to my delicious prediction, fails to meet such standards as the ones I set. He had some HPV bleeding-heart story and was unable to capture it's severity. He returns to his chair sulkily and to a splatter of hand clapping--I dare not even say applause.

He is completely unaware of our silent quarrel; he knows nothing of my wishes toward his constant defeat. You got me the first time around, but all I can say now is "in your face, Rockstar!"

Third First Day of School

Firstly, starting a blog was my New Years resolution and, well it's February 6th so not really a good start on a New Years resolution, but what the hell, better late than never.

This is my first blog you are reading. Ever. I thought I'd like to start a blog, not just to keep people in the loop of every intricately detailed inner workings of my psyche, but so I could hear myself talk--well not hear, but read; read myself talk. You know what I mean.

Okay, let's start things off right: I had a good day today; bad things happened, too, but it was a good day. Here's the good: Have you ever been thinking about someone and then they call? Have you ever had that happen 3 times in a day? Rachael Williams (from High School), Terri London (a client), and Jay White (a best friend). Crazy. Next a coworker gave me a coupon for a free sandwich--you may be thinking "who gives a shit" well, I do, thanks. I love sandwiches. I could most likely eat them every day for the rest of my life. I've dreamt of opening my own sandwich shop. Oohh... that's a good blog (later, Steven, later).

Let's get down to business with the bad--today was my third first day of school. (That's not the bad part just keep reading) It was my first day at San Diego City College, the third University system I'll be attending. I printed my schedule and showed up 5-minutes early and good for me and felt so prepared and then, all of a sudden, I couldn't find the classroom. So I'm running around and asking people left and right and finally I go to the Admissions office and ask them where my class is, "Oh, yeah, this is at ECC." "Okay, where's ECC?", "It's on Ocean View Boulevard." "Well, okay, where's that?" "Oh it's easy, just get on the 54, then the 805 then..." (Okay by this time I'm already thinking, "If someone says 'oh it's easy' and follows with a highway interchange, it ain't easy, bitch"). Needless to say I missed my class. I missed my third first day of class. So I feel like a booger for not like, finding out what campus the plugged this class into and--oh but let me just say this, I've heard from several sources that this place, this ECC, is like GHETTO, (for you Portlanders) it's like San Diego's Gresham. Nay, Washugal--except with more Mexicans and no Tanya Harting. Eww she's nasty.

And on that note... so that's my day people, I hope you enjoyed my blog about my third first day of school, you know I did. Anytime I can talk about myself endlessly and not feel guilty about it is a good thing for me. Until next time.