Today I presented my research about Michel de Montaigne. I had a schweet powerpoint, big yellow notecards to guide me through the whole thing, and an abundance of confidence (since I knew my stuff in and out). Turns out the secret ingredient to a successful presentation was the notecards, which I (foolishly) left sitting at home. I would have gone back to retrieve them, but I parked in BFE , and would have been fairly late getting back. Being unable to read said cards from a distance of 3 miles, I attempted to carry on my presentation without them, to a disastrous end.
I knew my stuff in and out. But that doesn’t mean I could express my thoughts in a logical and comprehensible pattern. As a result, I was hemoraging disconnected facts and explanations about Michel and his Essais, to the befuddlement of all. Normally, this sort of thing would be troublesome. Today it was double-troublesome, since jackass Ian (who said I was pretentious for using a larger font for the first letter of each paragraph) is now convinced that he is the almighty of the french department. A pox on him!
Tomorrow I present my german paper, and if it doesn’t go well, I’m gonna quit school and invade Poland.