You have WHAT twice a week?

Sex.
Well, Human Sexuality, that is. It's a course about the psychology, biology, sociology, etc of sex.
The class lends itself well to abbreviation, we call Chemistry Chem, we call Biology Bio, and now, Human Sexuality is delightfully deemed Sex.

This will be an experience.

It hit me today, the reality of taking a class like this, where the guy next to me screamed out the word "Cock," when the professor asked for slang words for male genitalia. Then it hit me again (it hits me like once a week) that EVERYONE is affected by sex, not just me or the people I know. The guy next to me, the girl in front of me, my teacher. Eww. Like, when I realized everyone poops. But it hit me so much worse this time because it's not a fleeting thought, it's like bombarding me in the face with its sheer reality.

I consider myself to be a very very open person. I am fine with people knowing my schedule, my favorite color, my opinions,  what experiences were embarrassing for me, and  whether or not it's impossible for me to find a good dress, etc. This openness is somewhat shattered in a class like human sexuality. The way people don't like to talk about grades, I don't like to talk about my experiences in that field of my life with others that much. And not because I'm that squeamish, just because I feel that those things about people are incredibly intimate. To me, it's not not a big deal; it's a piece of me that I'm pretty sure most people don't want to know about.

 And don't get me wrong, I'm pretty okay with what other people do and say and what they choose to share and who they choose to share it with and all, but I'm just a little quiet about it because I feel like when you talk about it, you take it out of context, and it will never mean to other people as much as what it meant to you.

I guess it's just what I learned from being brought up Indian (it's surprising that this is what has stuck with me, rather than dancing skills or being able to cook). I just feel that it's an act of modesty to not talk about these things in relation to myself. Maybe it's a cultural thing-- it's funny that I'm not shy about anyone else's doings. This unwillingness to accept blame, I guess, is from being Indian as well. It's in the language, "Lateness happened upon me," "Happiness is felt by me."

I have a feeling that my "systematic desensitization," (as said by my teacher), though I doubt it will be painful, will be delightfully awkward for me. But I'm pretty good at adapting, so it'll probably be okay.