HOT fecking DOG

Checked my school shhhedule today (since last year I started off my college career with 2 changed rooms and no notice) and that's when I noticed it:

SHE'S GONE! MY ITALIAN CLASS HAS CHANGED OUT THE INSTRUCTOR!

My Italian 201 instructor is now someone named Nobuko Wingard. Not a very Italian name, but that's ideal. Really. I-fecking-deal.

Of course, the devil you know and the devil you don't and yah yah yah, but I was having a really hard time coming to terms with the fact that I'd have 2 more months of trudging uphill in shite. One term of heart break (cuore male) in that fecking language is enough. It's good to know that I have a fresh chance with a new instructor who might have a handle on the English language -- which, oddly enough, is useful when you're bouncing students around the complexities of fare, essere and avere in a foreign language. You might want to have the ability to translate it. Yeah.

I should add another random class and up my credits.

Or is that cocky?