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In Which I Rant About Annoying Straight Girls.

I'm not the one with a TeacherCrush, this time around (my sign is ruled by Venus but it seems she's cutting me a little slack). It's three or four of my classmates. AND THEY'RE DRIVING ME INSANE.

My anatomy and physiology class is taught by a young guy, late 20s early 30ish, who is quite nice, rather funny, and very attractive. And they're completely ga-ga for him. I don't know whether to refer to them as "young women" or "girls" because despite the fact that they're all in their early to mid-twenties, they act like they're fourteen. Clearly, the impression I had that I had left junior high years ago was merely an illusion. They're constantly flirting with him, giggling inanely, the whole routine. Every class I'm in danger of straining a muscle because I'm rolling my eyes so much.

It pisses me off, partly because I'm trying to learn here and they should act like fucking grown-ups. But partly because gender norms dictate that a straight woman communicates her interest to a man by acting like a total idiot. This is supposedly what men find attractive, according to The Rules (or whoever's dictating het relationships these days). And the power dynamics of the situation--a male teacher with a overwhelmingly female class--irritates me. I can't possibly imagine the reverse situation--male students fawning, speaking in high-pitched voices, asking millions of simple questions to show how in awe they are of the teacher's superior wisdom. Male students, even with TeacherCrushes, get to be people, and women turn into this...this BarbieDollGirlMonster thing.

And you know what just occured to me, another reason it pisses me off: it's shoving their sexuality in my face. They get to be annoying and waste class time and I'm not even sure that anybody else notices or minds. How come they get to flirt outrageously with the professor and I gotta do this complex social algebra to even figure out if I can hold my girlfriend's hand in the street? (Rhetorical question, I know how come). You got a thang for your teacher, ask him out for a beer after you pass the final exam. Just once, for a few hours, could you give me a freakin' break?

The teacher, to his credit, doesn't encourage them. In fact I think he's fairly oblivious to it, because I'm 98% certain that he's gay as a picnic basket (my male gaydar, for whatever ironic reason, is much better than my lesbo...dar, though that seems to be improving recently). Which I take a wicked delight in. All that effort, only to find you're barking up the wrong tree. He's not a fey, limp-wristed stereotype (though he is performing in a local production of The Importance of Being Earnest. I had to cover up my snort with a cough when I heard that), which is probably why these women are making clueless fools of themselves. I'm slightly tempted to burst their bubble, but it's probably best to keep my mouth shut. This is why I have a blog, so I can bitch safely here and not loose my everlovin' mind.