I have decided on a name for this semester's ceramics class: Let's Over-Share. Seriously. It's full of people who sit at a table and try to one-up each other for THE WHOLE CLASS. Two and a half hours of one-upmanship.

I would be impressed at their staying power if I wasn't so irritated.

Last night, they covered a cornucopia of topics, ranging from Pokémon to spousal abuse. Seriously. Someone actually told an abuse story, which was then followed by another woman, starting a sentence with, "Well, that was bad, but you should hear what my ex did to me right before he ran off with my sister."

Little tip for everyone: No one wants to hear private business in a classroom setting. It's way too personal, makes everyone feel uncomfortable, and just makes the attention-seeking incredibly obvious. Before making a statement, maybe try thinking about a couple of things; first, whether what's about to pop out into the open is relevant to the conversation, and also, whether stating it will accomplish anything besides making the lady in the corner (yup, that's me) cringe.

I don't want to hear about someone's pitbull attack and then have another guy tell about how pitbulls are in pain because of their head shape so they have to attack and then hear another pitbull attack story. The pitbull attack story sandwich is too much for my brain.

At any rate, it's not as bad as the class with the loud Southern lady who called everyone Sugar, who sat next to the 18-year-old with the massive smoker's hack who never, ever covered her mouth and talked incessantly about how to beat the system and fraudulently collect more food stamps. If I survived that, I can survive anything.

Still, though. UGH.