Saturday, September 04, 2004
the cosmic ballet goes on
And the ecosystem of an intro class continues to run smoothly. Same old effortlessly cool seniors, who acknowledge that they need a credit in said subject and are damn entertaining. Same old freshmen, who preface all their class comments with, "Are you suggesting . . .?" Same old sophomores, who are just happy not to be associated with freshmen. And there are no juniors.
Maybe it's because I have a computer with working internet for the first time since I began college, or that I had the courage to approach my most intimidating professor and tell her that my name is pronounced eeeva, not ayva, or that I'm actually one of those people who is taking 5 classes and can't bear to drop any of them. But whatever it is, life seems to be running like a hot knife through butter.
Or maybe it's my 'partment and my 'partment mates. True, we don't actually have either of the things to which I likened my life, or any groceries, for that matter, but we do have a catchy doors-esque answering machine message, and a tried and true stirfry a la Sharples recipe, and more tea than any four people could ever need.
To sum: if you see me outside of Sharples, swipe me in.
And the ecosystem of an intro class continues to run smoothly. Same old effortlessly cool seniors, who acknowledge that they need a credit in said subject and are damn entertaining. Same old freshmen, who preface all their class comments with, "Are you suggesting . . .?" Same old sophomores, who are just happy not to be associated with freshmen. And there are no juniors.
Maybe it's because I have a computer with working internet for the first time since I began college, or that I had the courage to approach my most intimidating professor and tell her that my name is pronounced eeeva, not ayva, or that I'm actually one of those people who is taking 5 classes and can't bear to drop any of them. But whatever it is, life seems to be running like a hot knife through butter.
Or maybe it's my 'partment and my 'partment mates. True, we don't actually have either of the things to which I likened my life, or any groceries, for that matter, but we do have a catchy doors-esque answering machine message, and a tried and true stirfry a la Sharples recipe, and more tea than any four people could ever need.
To sum: if you see me outside of Sharples, swipe me in.
Comments:
Post a Comment
