Note To Self: Latin as a foreign language… bad idea.

I blame the school system.

Let’s say a girl, (okay, so it’s me), wants to take Italian, but the stupid school doesn’t offer it. So the next logical step, in my, err, her mind, is to take Latin which is the basis of all romance languages. Sounds good, but it’s oh so very bad.

My Latin teacher, Ms. Allen, is retired. Yes, I said retired. So, you may ask yourself, how is it that she’s teaching my Latin class? Well, she’s just doing it for kicks. Can’t begin to tell you how reassuring that is.

Now, at the beginning of the year, Ms. Allen asked for our names, addresses, phone numbers, etc, on an index card. Nothing out of the ordinary, seeing as all of my new teachers thus far had done the same. However, it was a bit weird, when she decided to USE said information. One Wednesday night, much to my surprise and increasing dismay, my phone began to ring, and caller id told me it was from a “Nancy Allen”. I told myself it was coincidence; really, that it couldn’t possibly be my Latin teacher. Oh, was I wrong.

“Ashley?”

I replied. “Um, yes?”

“It’s Ms. Allen…” At this point I took the time to pull the phone away from ear and stare for a moment, which is why I missed the middle of her sermon. “… And I just wanted to make sure that you understood everything today.”

Tempted to pull the phone away and stare again, I decided against it, seeing as she was expecting a response. “Um, yes, I got everything Ms. Allen, not to worry.” It was lie.

“Alright, well, can you decline the word for island?”

Dammit. I couldn’t even remember the word for island, let alone how to decline it. “Of course!” Mind you this was the second week of school. “Without a problem.”

There was a silence on the other end of the phone, which meant she expected me to do so. “Um,” I frantically began the search for my notes in my black-hole-backpack, pulling out random papers until I struck gold. “Oh, uh, that would be,” I took a pause to put my notes together. “That would be, insula, insulae, insulae, insulam, insulā, insulae, insulārum, insulīs, insulās, insulīs.” I silently added “I hope”.

Another pause from the other end, and then Ms. Allen said “Well, I just wanted to make sure.” She said it with a hint of suspicion. “I guess then I’ll see you in class tomorrow, have a good evening now.”

“You too Ms. Allen; Okay, bye.” I hung up the phone and let out a breath I hadn’t even known I’d been holding. A bullet dodged and I was quite pleased with myself.

The next day in class, I walked in, late as usual, and sat down, pulling out my some notes so that I looked like I was doing something, and then decided to pull out my book as well, for good measure. Of course, it wasn’t as if I was paying attention. This was the class that reminded me of my old math class… yea, you know who I’m talking about.