It takes a village.

What inspires me today...

Community College.

Yes, summer is here. But while everyone else is sleeping in, frolicking in the waves, peeing in pools, I am waking up at 6:30 four days a week to attend my community college elementary Spanish class.  As I bike across town and up that hill, every morning without fail I think to myself, "Curse you, Liberal Arts' GE requirements."

Some of the (almost) comically stereotypical students in Spanish 101 at Community College:

• The burnout girl in the back corner
• The 38 year old woman with bleached hair who dresses younger than me and talks like she's imitating a character off of Dawson's Creek. (you're not fooling anyone, girl.)
• The handful of high school juniors looking to get ahead (One of whom mistook me for someone in their same position.  When asked where I attended high school, I had some clarifying to do.  Not only am I in college, but I am a senior in college.)
• The hick from Arkansas who moved to California to surf
• Larry, the Cholo who doesn't speak Spanish
• The kid who looks like a young(er) Justin Beiber. (If our class was a fourth installment in the High School Musical franchise, he would probably be the hearth-throb.  But since it most definitely is not, he's just annoying and small.)

Since I have taken 2 years of Spanish already, and am not a complete idiot, I can notice things like the eye-roll our teacher gives after the annoying talkative high school girl says "Yo donde California" after he just explained the hard-to-grasp concept of "Soy de..."  He then has to separate her from her friend during his explanation of verb charades, because she was causing a disturbance.  Poor Marcelo.

Did I mention this class was 3 hour long?  I have enough material for a novel.  But I've already spent too of my thought space on Spanish class this week, so I will spare you, for now.