Soooo the purpose of this post is to illustrate for you how difficult it is for me to sit in class and take notes.
Aside from my energetic, possibly ADHD nature [kidding, doubt I have ADHD, but this day-in-age I have no doubt that I could convince a doctor I have it... ((rolls eyes))] I have a few handicaps, if you will, when it comes to the college classroom...
1) I am too damn short to reach the floor with my feet/legs. In previous years this was not a problem, the desks were fashioned in a way that I had a convenient footrest of sorts via the bars/legs of the desk in from of me. In college - no no! All the lectures I am currently in are stadium seating (2/3 are flat stadium which is so horribly claustrophobic... oye!). So, there are no "legs," only long seat backs which are ever encroaching into my personal bubble. So I either slouch so my dwarfed limbs can rest on the floor, or I let them hang. Neither is comfortable, hence I am in a constant state of fidget. Pretty sure people notice. In a bad way. "Rule #6: Don't draw negative attention. Draw attention to yourself, but on your own terms." Thank you Vince Vaughn. Being a distraction for eager minds is not how I imagined spending my years here at UCLA...
2) I am left-handed. Spare me the "you know left-handed people live 8 years less than right-handed people*" quotes. I'm 20. I got it. (*you'll notice I used the term "right-handed people" instead of "normal people" - don't even get me started on this pet peeve!!) Let me just preface this examination with a brief description of the desks I will be referring to (for those of you who graduated so long ago, you may not remember, or perhaps you got your education by reading cave drawings- I don't know...). In most college settings, the desks are a serious of seats, similar to movie theater seats, with a wooden plank that twists and turns from being "at rest" neatly beside the desk to flat across your lap, but not touching it. These "planks" are such that, if needed, you could leave your seat without returning them to their "at rest" position. Meaning, they literally do not cross even half your body. I'd say about 6/16 would be more accurate. About 95% of these being "right handed," or the plank resides on the right side. So being left-handed in the collegiate world means you have two options: A) sit in a "right-handed desk" and twist your body to force your left hand over to take notes, or B) take one of the few and far between "left-handed desks." Neither of these options will suffice for me, and I'll tell you why (are you surprised?). Option A means completely invading the person's space to your right. My right leg naturally likes to move over so my whole body can contort instead of perpetually twisting my spine for a 2 hour lecture. And my right arm spills over the pathetic excuse for a writing surface the man refers to as my "desk" causing awkwardness when I brush arms with random people. This option also requires sitting on the left side of the room. If you happen to sit on the right side of the room, oh the ill-fated day, you'll be facing slightly right with your body, while turning your head to the left to see the professor/board. Ouch. Option B, (did you forget about option B? I almost did... I'm a Campbell - not noted for our ability to be succinct) might be appealing at first, but after careful, or painfully haphazard, consideration, you'll come to find that most, if not all, left-handed desks are located on the far, far left side of the room. Subsequently, you're doing the right-handed desk on the right side of the room dance all over again, only in reverse. Body facing slightly left, head turning to the right to see the prof/board. Ouch. Again. Frankly, whoever designed this system is a butthead.
And ladies and gentlemen, there you have it.
In conclusion... Ugh.
Sam
