Each day passes more quickly than the last. What seemed like a week has quickly turned into a blur of almost two months, Mondays hazy and Friday nights completely forgotten. Long naps during the quiet afternoons between classes lead to sleepless nights of compulsive
laundry sprees, hours spent alone in the room full of big white machines and the never-fading scent of
dryer sheets. Just sit under the table, Indian-style in old hospital pants from far off
Iowa, T shirt hanging to the knees, reading endless chapters of
Buddhist literature, snug amongst the constant
whirring of clothes spinning themselves clean to the beat of some unheard
music long forgotten as the mind wanders from academic pursuits in favor of that
fly sitting on the wall a few feet away. It speeds away, too quickly to be seen by eyes dulled with boredom and aching from the countless pages of information thrust into eager hands. No more quarters left. Time to go to bed.
Today flew by without much time to think about it. I just finished reviewing the events of Monday, but in the meantime Tuesday seems to have come and gone. I got my French test back. It was as I had expected. I feel bad for the other kids in the class; being graded on a curve doesn’t help much when one student gets an A on everything. However, if I had a choice, I would move up three or four semesters to my rightful place when it comes to learning the French language. The department of Romance Languages does not agree, however. I must successfully earn a B or better in at least one semester of University of Michigan French classes before any credit or higher standing will be granted. I can only hope the other students don’t find out who’s messing up the curve.
Wednesday is gone, Thursday is fading. I got another test back, took a few more. My biological anthropology test came back with a grade stamped on it that I was not too excited about. B+. The first step below success, it may as well say D across the front for all to see. I lost thirteen points out of a hundred from various mistakes, most due to my lack of studying prior to the midterm. This was a choice I made and a habit I avoid, so I shouldn’t be surprised at the result. I’m not used to having to study. But five chapters of bio anthro obviously did not have enough time to sink into my simple brain without some help. The days of BS have passed, but it’s for the better. Now I might actually be forced to learn the old fashioned way and not rely on my sponge-like brain absorbency to get by.
Now it's Monday afternoon. My parents visited yesterday, it was the first time they've been down here since I moved in. They liked what my roommates and I have done with the place. The especially admired Megan's heaps of dirty clothing in the middle of the floor, covering her desk, and spilling out of her closet. I think it does a good job of brightening up the room, so I have nothing to complain about. The chair of her desk is an inviting, comfy place to sit, being covered with hundreds of dollars worth of size 2 Diesel jeans, fluffy sweaters and other items of clothing. It's like an expensive pillow on top of a useless wooden chair. Or something.
My parents took me and Aaron out to the Olive Garden for lunch. I had Chicken Pesto Ravioli, a departure from my standard order of Manicotti Formagio. It was absolutely heavenly, however, so it was a good decision. The waiter, a young man looking vaguely familiar with his dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, even complimented my choice on entrees. I think he should compliment whoever wrote the menu for my choice, but nonetheless I was still happy to recieve kind words. I later slowly enjoyed a piece of Raspberry Cheesecake, the most delicious and undescrible taste in the world. I know my cheesecake, and this one is astounding. Get some today.
Today was goofy. In all of my classes, clumsiness seemed to be the uniting factor. It wasn't even me being the goof for once. Almost everyone had their fair turn at making some strange, new and exciting faux pas before the class. It was especially evident in my Japanese discussion. We are learning verbs and therefore gaining the ability to actually make sentences. It still amazes me to think that I can speak Japanese after less than two months of class. I'm no where near the level of a native Japanese three year old, but I'm getting there. Anyway, back to what happened in class. There was a massive bee flying around the ceiling, and everyone was trying to get it to fly out the door and into the hall where it would be unable to harm any hard working students. One overzealous kid picked up a book and swung it at the bee, completely squishing it between a pane of glass and that nihongo no hon. He gave it an extra slap! to make sure all was dead, and then empyied the remains into a trash can. Immediately following this, Derek dropped all his books on the floor. Papers flew everywhere. Someone said "Watashi wa football o nomemasu," meaning "I drink football." Our sensee began laughing uncontrollably and nearly ended up on the floor. Then things got completely out of hand.
I went back to the dorms and ate lunch with my roommates (Meg and Chris). The lady in the dining room gave me enough turkey to feed three people, and I tried my best to finish it all, but my plate would not allow me to empty it. I hate throwing food away, but someimes there is not a choice when large women hand out huge proportions to little girls with small stomachs. Not that 5'11" is little, mind you, but I am not quite as wide as I am tall.
Now I have nothing to do until my study buddies (Sobersephiroth and MiZuNkY) get out of work, pick me up and take me to the Media Union on North Campus to read our brains out until all homework is completed, regardless of the pain it takes to reach that point. Aaron and I will be in the MU basement, but Nick will probably be up on the third floor with his fellow computer people. Perhaps I shall join him for a few moments if he is lucky enough. Stop by if you are around.