Tuesday suffering V

After having skipped my Japanese class last week, I decided to go. I had the same mixed feelings of wanting to actually learn something and not wanting to spend three hours of my life in a room with nine arseholes. I went from home around one, when they should've already started, knowing that being late is vital for preserving my sanity. Arriving around 1340, I realized that BoI was discussing numerals, probably since the beginning of the class. Not that I'd know what is there to discuss and argue about.

Now, the old classroom saying goes that there are no stupid questions. I highly doubt that, in fact, I'm absolutely sure that there are stupid questions when there is enough stupid in the room. Example: teacher explains. Joe doesn't get it and asks a legit question, in a smart or stupid way. Teacher explains again. Jane and Mary were discussing newest trends in hairdressing and missed both explanations and Mary asks the same question. Teacher explains - and now Jane asks the very same question because when Mary was being explained, Jane needed to tell something to Alice or picked her nose or something. Those are questions caused by ignorance and studip so they are stupid questions. Add a ranty teacher to the mix and half of the class is wasted.

In fact, I don't know what was discussed before the smoking break. I recall railways and property prices in Florence being mentioned but the whole discourse didn't give much sense. I wanted to watch clouds drift, it's a reasonable passtime, but the sky was like a polished copper bowl, shiny and hot, so I had to be happy with staring on the map of Italy which hangs there on the wall for some reason. I'm now pretty well educated on geography, including the smaller islands. I also discovered that there's actually railway on Corsica. Doesn't it rock? Especially in comparison with the sad fact that after 15 hours of classes, I may be able to say in Japanese something like My name is so-and-so and I'm 30, without being sure that it's what the syllabus calls for or whether it's my extrapolation. I've however survived the professor perusing the Mac in the classroom while explaining how to type in Japanese in windows. Oddly enough, nobody brought up the issue of typewriters. The course nerd kept telling everyone that he knows it all, he can show everyone how it works and I openly read my detective story, doing my best not to be calling a slow death by ugly skin disease on the course nerd. Then the professor played some particularly idiotic videos from youtube. Apparently designed for students of Japanese who haven't exceeded 5 years of age, whose IQ count is smaller than their tooth count and/or whose good taste and sense of humor were surgically removed. Well, I have to say that we were told something about personal pronouns (that they exist, basically) and about affirmative and negative verbs, without actually knowing any darn verbs.
So, as always, the contents, like, real contents of the lesson, could be summed up on a post-it.
I'm frustrated. Royally pissed, too. I want to learn that damn language. Well, socializing and booze worked with the Finns.... do I see a solution? Mom is coming Thursday, bringing various pesticides for my illnesses, I could ask her for calvados.