Late again, but still alive.

[Entry from September 9th, 2009]

My professor for Linguistics was a thin man with short, dark hair and glasses, carrying an accent I couldn’t quite place. The electronics podium for room 139 was malfunctioning. I notice the maintenance crew for this university is much more well-composed than it was for my last school, although that isn’t saying much; I’m sure this college at least has more than two of them.

“Introduction to the History of Latin America” blazes across the splash screen, and I realize I’m in the wrong class.

So much for listening to redirection notes plastered on the front of classroom doors.
I arrive a few minutes late. My actual professor has the same general characteristics as the last, minus the accent.

The Teacher’s Aide shows up even later than I. She’s trembling slightly, wide-eyed and nervous. It makes me feel better, as horrible as that may sound.

I’ve lost my direction cheat sheet. I suddenly regret not writing two copies.

The next classroom I rushed to is most likely the largest of all four. My Anthropology professor is an older woman, one who looks as if she’s been on the field--one of those experienced types, rough around the edges. She has a microphone on her, and her speech makes it obvious she’s from Montreal.

This class is the introductory session to the University’s Anthropology department. I look throughout the crowd of two hundred and can’t help but wonder how many will actually stick with this major.

I realize she’s speaking a lot about apes and monkeys. I realize ‘Primatology’ is short for ‘the study of primates’. I realize just how smart I am.

I take a seat front row center. I wonder if people consider me a keener, and soon realize I don’t really care.

My chair swivels in 37 different directions. Comfy.

My first Psychology professor is a Caucasian man identical in description as my first professor, minus the accent and glasses. He uses a laser pointer. I’ve honestly never seen that before. You’d think it would be a more obvious and convenient choice.

What is it with college professors and the Mac operating system, anyway?

He showed us a clip of the Matrix in class to express the summary of the method of the brain’s perception. That is awesome. He’s somewhat energetic, encouraging participation from an unfortunately lackadaisical classroom.

Notes from a 400-level Mechatronics class is still on the chalkboard, and I vaguely recognize the mathematics. Kind of want to switch to an Engineering major. Word around school says they’re master pranksters, not to mention their building constantly smells like peppermint.

My second Psychology professor was late. He is a larger, older man, who entered in silence with a stern expression. He was balding slightly, as all my male professors seem to be. Apparently managing hundreds of young adults in the classroom stresses the hair right out of you.

Another technical difficulty. I somehow suspect he called the area’s maintenance-woman over on purpose. That was cute. I ship them.

I was mistaken. He turns out to be a fairly jolly individual. He podcasts extra information and answers to students’ e-mails on the course website.

The class in question was an introductory session, and hence, abnormally short. I sat on the ground by the lockers outside my next classroom and ate applesauce. It was the first time I’d ever eaten in a school hallway. I felt unreasonably giddy. “So this is what normal students do.”

I notice a male eyeing me as he enters the classroom. Out of all the available seats in the room, he claims one three down from my aisle. He won’t stop staring. I smile gently at myself, pretending rather it’s the screen which is keeping me amused. A girl with a smaller waist and a shorter skirt sits next to me. My temporary admirer’s attention is newly drawn. I feel nothing.

The history professor steps in. He’s a younger man, perhaps early to mid thirties, who possessed the same stature and hairstyle as Ricky Gervais and has the voice of a motivational speaker. He makes History interesting to listen to.

All in all, it was a fascinating first day. I look forward to seeing where this semester takes me.