I've gotta go take a wicked yes

Call me a nerd, I don't care. I now have a test posted on my refrigerator from my Old Testament class, which I received a 104/100 on. That was a good feeling. And I'm leaving it up for as long as possible.

And this comes a mere two days after I had the most disturbing experience of my college career in the same class. Before I go any further, let me refresh everyone's memory as to what my teacher looks like: she's a single, 43-year-old Presbyterian minister studying for her masters at Vanderbilt. She is rather large and has large glasses that always fall to the end of her nose. These glasses are apparently a feeble attempt to help with her lazy eye. If that is not enough, she has hair down to her knees, and likes to wear outfits that are either from the 60's, all the same color, or both. Oh, and everything in the Old Testament relates back to sex, at least the way she teaches it.

Ok, now that you have a visual, here's what happened. So we're talking about Song of Solomon, and for a moment I thought she was going to glide over it rather quickly, but I couldn't have been more wrong. She talked about how some people see it as a purely sexual book, others as an example of God's relationship with Israel, and others as Christ with the church. She said that most people don't focus on it, although, she's heard, some people pray during sex, saying "Oh God, Oh God."

And that's when I wanted to puncture my ear drums. THEN, after the awkwardness has firmly planted itself in the room, she says, "Although I am a 43-year-old virgin, so I wouldn't know personally." And then I threw up a little bit in my mouth.

That's my feel-good story of the day.
Peace out.