...And so ends my first week back to the University. Generally, I have classes on Friday, but a teacher being busy freed up my afternoon to catch up on my much-needed beauty rest.

My classes go as follows;

Philosophy: We will read a lot. The girl beside me will wear the same style dress in a different color, molest her camel cigarettes, and laugh at every "joke" the teacher or one of four (4) guys in the class "make", be they funny, or not. I will be annoyed by her Monroe and her over-sized glasses.

Communications: I will "take notes" on busy work presented in lecture form. One guy, who is a Comm major, will be very interested in what goes on. The rest of us will slack as hard as our untrained bodies will allow. Sometimes we will be forced to speak publicly.

Anthropology: White people leave the city to live with brown people. The white people take notes on the brown people, and attempt to show why these brown people are different from all the brown people we already knew about. The brown people, recognizing the white peoples' futuristic "zipper-technology" presume their visitors as gods and give said "gods"access to their endless supply of charred bananas. Sylvester Stallone comes to the camp. There are no survivors.

Weight Training: We're supposed to call the teacher "Enzo". He tells us how to lift weights. I tell him I know how. He agrees. I then lift weights.

Art History: We look at pictures on a slide show and talk about it. The teacher insists that Frida Kahlo produced appreciated works of art. I disagree with her.


I have a lot of reading that I'm supposed to do. I don't think I'll mind too much, though. It feels nice to have a reason to get out of bed before noon. This weekend there is to be a cookout, and a house-warming party directly there after. It should be nice. I might go see Ponyo tomorrow.