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My do I have a story to tell today (really, not at all, but I'm in a cheery mood so I tend towards exaggeration). Never mind that I've put off writing it for nearly three hours, because I discovered that I had somehow managed to have never read the beginning of Bobbins for some strange reason (this tiny thing with me and cartoons has got to stop). But that's sort of beside the point.
It's always easier to actually get up in the morning on the first day of class, so I was out of bed at 8 and dressed by 8:15, which left me nearly a half-hour of sitting/laying/standing around before I gave up and caught the bus. I was still ten minutes early to Media Asthetics, but that's always alright on the first day. So, the cherry news? I can't possibly hate Media Asthetics so much this quarter! And, of course, since it is only the first day, this is based solely on my first impression of the new prof. For one, he's British... which is obviously not the first thing I noticed he's got a, as he's got a rather faint accent, but by goodness he says "point" exactly like Arthur Dent in the Hitchhiker's Guide TV show, and that alone is amusing enough for an entire quarter. But! On top of that, he looks like what you'd get if you crossed John Linnell just after he got out of bed and Jason Trachtenburg. Glasses and all. Eep! Shame he's got to be like, 40-something. Actually, I shouldn't say "shame" because that automatically implies that I've got some sort of crush on him... which I do not. Because I don't work like that. We'll just say that I would have a crush on him if he was like 20-something, and not my professor.
Then, to top off my morning, my calculus class was cancelled! Hooray! I certainly haven't minded the morning off, though I would gladly have given it up if it meant I could have the day off from calc sometime later in the quarter. I also ended up skipping lunch, because the dining hall wasn't open, so I just caught the bus back and have been at the dorm since. Which is rather bad because now I'm starving. And I have track practice before I can go to dinner. Stupid silly me. Oooh well. I guess I'll continue to sit here and be uncomfortable, since my roomie's boyfriend is just sitting in here playing poker, and I don't know what to do. I suppose I'll maybe do my readings for tomorrow. Yay homework already.
It's always easier to actually get up in the morning on the first day of class, so I was out of bed at 8 and dressed by 8:15, which left me nearly a half-hour of sitting/laying/standing around before I gave up and caught the bus. I was still ten minutes early to Media Asthetics, but that's always alright on the first day. So, the cherry news? I can't possibly hate Media Asthetics so much this quarter! And, of course, since it is only the first day, this is based solely on my first impression of the new prof. For one, he's British... which is obviously not the first thing I noticed he's got a, as he's got a rather faint accent, but by goodness he says "point" exactly like Arthur Dent in the Hitchhiker's Guide TV show, and that alone is amusing enough for an entire quarter. But! On top of that, he looks like what you'd get if you crossed John Linnell just after he got out of bed and Jason Trachtenburg. Glasses and all. Eep! Shame he's got to be like, 40-something. Actually, I shouldn't say "shame" because that automatically implies that I've got some sort of crush on him... which I do not. Because I don't work like that. We'll just say that I would have a crush on him if he was like 20-something, and not my professor.
Then, to top off my morning, my calculus class was cancelled! Hooray! I certainly haven't minded the morning off, though I would gladly have given it up if it meant I could have the day off from calc sometime later in the quarter. I also ended up skipping lunch, because the dining hall wasn't open, so I just caught the bus back and have been at the dorm since. Which is rather bad because now I'm starving. And I have track practice before I can go to dinner. Stupid silly me. Oooh well. I guess I'll continue to sit here and be uncomfortable, since my roomie's boyfriend is just sitting in here playing poker, and I don't know what to do. I suppose I'll maybe do my readings for tomorrow. Yay homework already.
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Because...err... being British is actually a unique race, and not just a slightly weirder and more purebred branch of silly wasp-y people like me.
I wonder if they've always had the British people, but we just haven't been allowed to see them until now. Who knows what group of people they'll introduce next quarter. Maybe they'll all be Canadian.
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