The other day, I was complaining to my friend that it didn’t seem cold enough to be December. “It doesn’t feel like it’s going to be Christmas in like twenty days! I want some snow!” My current self wishes I had kicked my past self for saying such things. It was so cold and windy yesterday that my face felt like it was being blow torched as I walked about doing my errands. On top of tutoring a girl in my Photoshop class, going to the library and a screenplay reading yesterday, I also woke up at six in the morning to go register for classes. That’s a lot of walking around in the cold.
I don’t think I’ve mentioned this to that many people, but I’ve decided to transfer schools. Again. This semester has given me a little bit too much time to think about where I’m going in life and it’s totally freaking me out. I mentioned a little while back that I was kind of having an early onset midlife identity crisis. That was also around the time that I decided to change majors. And schools.
At least I won’t be going to a totally new school. If I had, it would be the fourth college I’ve attended in three years. Instead, I’m transferring back to Brooklyn College. For Art History. A lot of people are puzzled at this decision and wonder why on earth I would want to study something that is (a) so boring and (b) so not photography. I think it’s mainly because, as I said in my previous rant, photo school kind of feels like auto mechanic school to me. When I’m done with college, I don’t want to feel like all I can do is fix a car really well. Also, sitting and learning about how to properly color-correct images is far more excruciating than listening to a lecture about famous artists.
Anyway. I was trying to figure out how to register on the Brooklyn College website a few days ago, when I got a message that said that I could not register until my designated appointment on Monday at 8am. Confused, I called the Brooklyn College information booth and asked them what was up with that. The girl on the phone seemed a little perplexed as well, but told me that I should go to the office of Academic Advisement at my appointment time. So I did. I woke up at six in the morning, left at seven, and arrived at Brooklyn College at eight. After an hour of commuting in the freezing cold, I arrived to find that everything was closed.
I went to the office of Academic Advisement. Closed. I walked downstairs to go to the information booth. Closed. I went to the basement to see if anybody in the registrar’s office could help me. The woman there unlocked the door only to tell me that she had no idea what I was talking about. I decided, after waiting around and going back and forth between the closed Academic Advisement office and the information booth, that perhaps my designated appointment time was just the time at which I could register online. When I finally returned home and went online, I discovered that that was the case.
For some reason, all but one of Brooklyn College’s art history classes were night classes and already filled, so I had to go with History of Architecture. The other classes I’ve registered for thus far are French 2; Knowledge, Reality and Values; Shaping of The Modern World; and People, Power and Politics. This schedule seems almost like the exact opposite to what I’m used to and, while I really am tired of what I’m used to, I’m not sure if I’m quite ready for this.
