Ali's Epic First Day of School Part Un

So I wake up mad early this morning on the off chance I have what appears to be some sort of theatre history class. "Appears to be", because again, I speak Franglais and not fluent French. I get my lazy ass off of my beloved futon, sit my bum down on the 13, and trek to Saint Denis in my rain boots, all starry-eyed and hopeful about my very first day at a French University.

Back story: the class I was going to have this morning had a layer of mystery about it in that on the schedule it said it was this morning, but in the brochure, it said it was tomorrow.

I get there early to check the newly-posted schedule, and not only is the class definitely this morning, but it appears to be in a different room than originally posted. Okay! It's a building, it makes sense, and I should be able to find A-0169 very easily! Not a problem!

Oh how very wrong I was.

First I go to what appears to be A-169, where the professor very kindly told me a lit class was going to take place. Okay, so I checked again, realized there was a zero, and figured 0 = basement.

So after going through the basement of building A in its entirety, I return to the schedule to stare hopelessly at the room number.

I finally ask someone (in French), and they lead me to an offshoot hallway behind closed doors and voila! A-0169!

So it's 9:01, and the professor is already talking. So I run in and take my seat. The professor talks about how he's not going to be there one week because he's teaching in Tunisia, makes a joke I don't understand about Brazil, and gives an assignment to one girl in the front regarding Chile.

I thought, this is a strange theatre history class. Maybe he changed the topic and it's no longer theatre of the first half of the 20th century. Maybe it's theatre around the world. That'd be cool.

Then a girl walks in and asks if this is the class for *insert name of class that is very, very not "French Theatre of the First Half of the 20th Century."* It could have been aesthetiques or some such thing.

Anyways, the professor says "Oui!"

...

...oops...

And everyone laughs as I leave the room.

I'm pretty sure it was a master class on introduction to qualitative research. I bought myself a giant croissant aux amandes and cried.

Hopefully I can find the dance-theatre class I'm supposed to have at 15h today.