Whoops. Nothing else can be said about the folly I committed this semester. As a graduating senior who only needed to take three credits to complete his major, I could have slid through the worst case of senioritis since the Reagan administration.
Instead of taking ""Saved by the Bell: The College Years""-inspired classes such as ""How to Program Your VCR"" and ""Gilligan's Island 101,"" I decided to use my remaining college credits to challenge myself by taking hard classes, most notably, an introductory Chinese class.
I expected the course to be mentally stimulating, as I'd learn about stuff I'd never even thought about before. I expected it to challenge me and stimulate my mind.
On the plus side, it gave me exactly what I expected.
On the completely-negative-why-in-the-hell-did-I-do-this-stupid-individual-in-a-stupid-class-who-does-stupid-things-because-of-his-sheer-ineptitude-and-has-a-unique-(but negative)-odor-the-class-gave-me-exactly-what-I-expected side.
I know I've never been very strong at foreign languages. Although it is built upon the most strict of logic protocols, it has always remained an elusive concept to me.
I only survived my breadth requirements by taking German, which I got through with a variety of luck, easy TA's and a large amount of voodoo black magic. The whole time, my driving force was the knowledge I'd never need to endure the confusion, pain and agony of foreign languages ever again.
I guess I'm a masochist, because I signed up for Chinese completely of my own free will.
On the plus side, my class has adopted me as their idiot mascot. No matter how poorly they do, they could never do as bad as Ni Kang Wei—which my teacher probably named me because I'm fairly certain it's Chinese for ""You Very Dim.""
The most surprising aspect of my Chinese experience is how I recall being in high school and watching certain lowlifes swirl out the bottom of what I perceived as the easiest of classes. They might have been my mascot, my person who played the role of the idiot, but could probably have kicked my ass academically in many other courses.
With all this said, and all the sheer torture I've endured in this class, I'd highly recommend taking it. Not necessarily a Chinese class, but one in which you don't have a clue what exactly is occurring.
As I've progressed through both of my majors, the upper-level classes seemed like little more than logical progressions—if I understood what occurred in the 100-level classes, then the 600-level classes are cake.
You've probably taken classes that were difficult—maybe you almost bombed out of calculus or organic chemistry, but it probably met some end goal or filled a prerequisite. This is why I'm an oddity, since nobody in their right mind would take such difficult classes for fun.
Chinese beckoned to me because it served absolutely no purpose—it didn't even tell me why I love General Tso's Chicken so much.
It's just a challenge I'm glad to attempt to overcome. Only by stepping up and taking on this considerable challenge could I bite the wax tadpole.
Taking Chinese is a ""whoops"" statement but one that will probably help me more than many courses in my major.
