It’s been a while since I’ve clued you guys in on how my life as an Istanbul exchange student/supermodel/go-go boy is shaping up. My last post let you know that I got fat from eating too much at Bayram and that I was very emotional in getting my Residence Permit. I’m still emotional (will get to this later) but I don’t think I’m as fat, maybe just a lil’ jiggles (SHOUT OUT TO CARRIE! KA-DI-MA!!!)
After my adventures through Turkey with my mom’s friend Ilknur, I came back to Istanbul, well rested and well fed. I was ready to take on the rest of my semester. RAAARR!!! That’s how excited I was! A couple weeks after returning, I went on a weekend trip with my friends Brenna and Julia to the city of Trabzon on the Black Sea. If you didn’t figurr it out yet, for that trip, we were PB&J. Holler. It turned out to be an awesome weekend although not everything went according to plan. To start off, I made a reservation (IN TURKISH) for the hotel we were planning on staying at ahead of time. After getting tipsy at the airport (because I don’t like flying), and arriving at one in the morning in T-Zon, the man at the hotel told us that there was no room. #1 Someone at that hotel is fekking stupid and #2 Where wuz we gonna sleep? Luckily, the man drove us IN HIS CAR to another hotel (not the best idea) which turned out to be cheaper. It DID look like a log cabin inside and I WAS afraid there were aliens in the bathroom, but we made it work. The other problem we encountered was that our plane on the way back to Isty got delayed more than three hours. This meant my drunkenness wore off by the time we took off and I got a little scurred at times. But, we arrived in one piece and even got reimbursed for the return ticket. This means that for a round-trip ticket to Trabzon (about an hour and fifteen minutes each way) I paid under $35. Suck.On.That.
While in Trabzon, we went to awesome places like a big lake called Uzungöl (meaning “long lake” in Turkish=so creative, I know) and the Sümela Monastery. Feel free to look at my FB pics or wikipedia that. It was some dope shit. It’s my favorite city in Turkey so far and I would recommend anyone to travel there. Just beware of the Russian prostitutes, locally known as “Natashas”. (I don’t make this stuff up)
Transition to me crying:
After a fun-filled weekend in Trabzies, I came home and checked my email. There, I found an email from my political science professor saying that she had FINALLY graded our mid-term exams. I was excited because I thought I did really well…and I’m a big loser who cares about his grades. Here comes the good part. I got the LOWEST grade in the class!! Let me rephrase that, out of ALL the students in the class, both Turkish and foreign, including people who come to class 20 minutes late or don’t come at all, and people who don’t do the reading or participate in class, out of all of them, I (Peter Jones, model extraordinaire) did the worst…by a lot. So, I went to talk to my prof, thinking there had been a mistake. I was wrong. She told me how amazed she was that I did such a horrible job since I seem intelligent. She said to me that, “This paper (mine) is not the paper of an intelligent person.” It took everything I had not to cry in front of her. Instead, I went to the bathroom and cried for like 10 minutes. I know that it’s not the end of the world to fail a class but when I started thinking of all the things that go with it: possibly losing my scholarship, my parents being disappointed at me, the fact that I did all the readings and tried my best, THAT got my tear ducts working. I was a mess and still am to this day. I had my final about two weeks ago and it went horribly. She asked the most frustrating questions and now, I’m wearing Depends permanently because when I think about my grade in that class (which is all the time), I wet myself a little (just a little, OK???)
So, when I find out my grade in the coming week, I will either be relieved that I managed to pass that class or I will exercise my freedom of speech and someone is getting a strongly worded letter. Huh? Whatchu think about that?
(P.S. We learned about free speech in that class. That’s why it’s ironic.)
I’m a failed model/international peace mediator. I like telling stories, traveling, and guys. Besides becoming Oprah, my biggest life goal is to be able to do the splits. All the way.