The joke's over.

We entered anthropology class and a different professor was standing. The first thing she said: "Ms. Grant won't be teaching anymore."

No more professor who thought ASL was invented in the 1960s, and affirmative action brought about deaf culture and installed IKJ into presidency.

Funny, a couple of students were bummed about her dismissal because they'd be losing an easy A or because they liked her candies.

I feel bad for Ms. Grant, tho. She's a sweet, clueless soul. Hope she finds a line of work that suits her better.

Classes are ok, but I'm not too sure about Anthropology. The professor seems out of it.

Incident reports:

-During the first class, she called herself an old fart 3 times. Thereafter, she'd mention it at least once in every class. (She finally stopped doing it, tho.)

-She wouldn't stop talking about pagers being a phenomenon in the deaf community. She seems to pat on herself for noticing it.

-For an anthropologist, she seems awfully clueless how to relate to people of other races. There are 3 black people in the class and she ignores them except when she asks them about black issues. For instance, she was talking about what pagers (see above) represent in deaf culture and a black student was trying to give his input. She interrupted him and said, "Do you know Malcolm X"? I could see him restraining from rolling his eyes. She rambled on about what Malcolm X represents—black power, etc. Every time she talked about black people, she'd look at them and nod knowingly.

-Many sentences in her syllabus end with "smile".

-She told a black female student, "Your status lower because you black, even lower because you woman, really low because you deaf." There are better ways to explain sociology.

-She assigned my group to do a skit based on a dry academic book. The skit? How the internet affected the society or something. Two students acted as computers. One student got in front of one and ordered stuff and got broke, while I got fat from sitting all day. That was the skit. After the class, the professor strided up to us beaming and said she was giving us bonus points for doing such a great job. Next class, she got the department chairperson to come to the class and asked us to do the skit again.

-Her incoherent lectures...I can't put 'em in words. You have to see them.

The only good thing I can say about her is that she's nice. Really nice. She always gives us candy before the class.

I'm just waiting for Ashton Kutcher to pop up with a TV crew. "We been punk'd! *hysterical laughter*". I'm only half kidding. He knows Ty Giordano.

I recently saw a CNN headline "New Orleans Evacuees to Evacuate Houston". Ouch.

Since school started, life's been a blur. Know what'd be cool? If there was a practical way to record ASL convos. So many interesting chats lately and I'd be able to write down some choice excerpts (I don't do AIM much). Some hearing fucker did it with a tape recorder. Check out Tucker Max's chronicles. They're extremely candid and hilarious.

A few days ago, I came across this lovely piece of writing adorning a power supply box on 6th St. & K St. (Orleans = Orleans Pl. not New Orleans):

Fuck (unreadable) orleans bitches
Fuck the orleans haters
Orleans don't run shit
The 6th st honnies bang all them out! :)
(Unreadable) got bang out

Last Saturday night, a local stranger burst into a house party on Orleans Pl., immediately followed by a thug (must be that 6th St. poet) who then literally popped a cap in his ass in front of everyone. The victim collapsed on a sofa, but he was only worse off with a sore ass.

I was somewhere else when it happened.

I still don't fear for my safety. The cold truth is almost every crime in the area is black on black. The only homicides on Gally students in history occured on campus—so it could be argued that caucasian students are safer in the 'hood.

I have a widget that points me to the cheapest local gas station. $2.98 actually made me go yahoo! How sad is that?

(gas usually goes for $3.40 in DC nowadays)

Friends threw me a surprise b-day party last week then we went out. Sounds corny but I was touched—by how far some friends went to see that I had a great time (no prostitutes were involved, I swear) and how some people I haven't seen much lately showed up and gave me a gift.

Didn't do anything wowow during the weekend. Had a picnic at Hains Point and played football. And, of course, parties. On Fri. nite, Bren and Nate threw one to celebrate IKJ's retirement. There was a board with a sign next to it saying before scribbling your words of "appreciation" for him, you must've had downed at least 5 shots. Let's just say the Pope wouldn't be pleased with most of what's scrawled. Bren says he's serious about handing the board to IKJ. Yeah right.

There'll be plenty of parties ahead. I enjoy them for the time being. However, I'm thinking about establishing a club—call it Urban Adventurers. The city has so much to offer and we Gallaudetians end up doing the same things and going to the same places over and over. The purpose of the club would be to shatter that monotony and challenge ourselves to constantly find exciting new activities and places.

I. King Jordan's big announcement that he'll retire in Dec. 2006:

At around noon, people who I'd never seen before walked around passing out yellow flyers saying there'd be an important announcement about the future of Gallaudet at 2 pm, and all classes would be cancelled. We sprouted various theories, but one became an obvious favorite: IKJ's done. Regardless, the air was thick with suspense.

2 pm was approaching and everyone, and I do mean EVERYONE, flocked into Elstad Auditorium. I can tell you this—it NEVER happened before. It felt surrealistic, as if we were about to hear that aliens had taken over the earth. A few minutes later, IKJ and some people walked onto the stage and took seats. One of them was a biracial kid. Maybe IKJ was about to confess that he had sired an illegitimate kid.

Dr. Glenn Anderson popped up on a huge screen (I'd say 30' x 30'). He was VPing to the audience! The wonders of technology! Then the screen froze, a 25-foot Dr. Anderson in mid-sign, his face bizarrely contorted in mid-expression. Alas, the downfall of technology. That grotesque face stared at us for good 30 seconds before finally moving again...for a few seconds, before stopping again. It happened over and over again, and the video always froze at the most unflattering moments. The gignatic form of him snarled and grimaced at us, signing gibberish. IKJ even chuckled.

It went on for about 10 minutes before they decided they could do without Dr. Anderson's virtual participation.