Voice-over Internet Protocol and Student Learning. Graduate Student Perception of Learning When VoIP is Used as one Method of Communication

It all started after a nasty breakup with a man I'll call Dominique. He was an Italian banker, Euro-trashy and proud of it, with a personality hke a scorpion. Just hke his mother. Of course he treated me hke shit and I put up with it, and strangely enough, I didn't mind that much. At least, not until the end when I drank too much psychedelic mushroom tea in Jamaica and realized he didn't love me after all. But I was a different person back then. I still had my beauty—you know, strangers stopped me on the street, that kind of thing—and a good-girl upbringing that comes from growing up in a small town in Maine. But on the inside, I was not nice. I had absolutely no feelings at all, emotionally or physically. I'd never been in love. "The only reason I hved with Dominique for three years was, one, he asked me to on our first date, and two, he had a gorgeous two-bedroom apartment in a prewar overlooking the East River and a big house in East Hampton. I had no money, no job—I did some voice-overs and sang some jingles for TV commercials. "So when Dominique and I broke up—he found out I was having affairs and made me give back jewelry he'd bought for me— I decided that what I needed to do was get married. Quickly." THE TRILBY HAT "I moved into a friend's apartment," said Bunny, "and about two weeks later I met Dudley at Chester 's—that East Side bar for young swells ...»