First things First

August 24, 2004

I've plunged right into this semester as of yesterday (Mon, 23rd). Mondays are not as efficient for me as they could be, schedule-wise. I have an 8:00 a.m. algebra class, then a 5:30 p.m. speech class. This means that I have to head over to the university two different times, which is quite a pain.

Anyway... When I arrived for my first class, I parked in the parking lot behind Thompson Complex and followed some guy into the back entrance and up three flights of stairs (slow down, my heart). I arrived outside the classroom at 7:30. There were two other students sitting on the benches there in the hall. One was just sitting there, head thrown back up against the wall, eyes closed, and the other was speaking on her cell phone in some foreign language I couldn't identify. The rooms were all dark, and I was not about to be the first "uncool" person to go sit in a desk (as if I just couldn't wait for class to begin). So I sat down beside the foreign gal and began to fidget nervously for the next fifteen minutes. Finally, some girl came down the hall and marched right in, so I quickly followed suit. I got my notebook and my planner and my pen out and sat there very primly, awaiting the Moment.

The students began to come in in droves the closer it got to 8:00. Everyone just sat there, not saying a word, until it began to feel as if the silence was taking on a character of its own. I glanced around. It seemed as if I was to be the only student with a notebook on her desk. And it sat there ... Larger than Life.

Just as I had figured, the instructor turned out to be a masters student. Not only is this her very first class to teach...ever, but she is foreign to boot. She is from India, and the class of about 40 Americans can hardly understand her. She is as nice as can be, but when you can't understand the words coming out of her mouth, the eyes just begin to glaze right over. This is not what I need. Here I am... ashamed to be stuck in a Math 100 class which counts for no credit at all, all the while fearing I should be down yet another notch in 055! There must be a way to overcome this obstacle.

I decided I wanted to do another "ghost walk" down to Grise Hall (at the bottom of the hill) and back up to Thompson just to see if I could do it. This was in preparation for Tuesday's classes. I wanted to time it to make sure I have enough time to make it to my sociology class. I made the mistake of not crossing at the light at the top of the hill. I just went straight down the sidewalk on the left, not knowing that at some point mid-way down, the sidewalk on the left side ends. So when I came face to face with a little Toyota truck, I knew it was time to cross over. Only the traffic was so bad, I couldn't. After I had stood there for a full five minutes, waiting on traffic, I began to feel very foolish. About that time, God put an angel on a Harley in front of me. He was waiting in line, and he very kindly looked over at me and said, "You can cross on over if you want to." Blessings on the dear Harley Man. I made it the rest of the way down to Grise without incident, then turned around and headed back up the hill from where I had just come.

Just like I remembered, the walk up that hill is awful! It's do-able, but awful. It is far more than a "cardiac" hill. It is a full-fledged "myocardial infarction" hill.

I was back at the university at 5:00. I met Sharon in the parking lot and walked her to her class with Mr. Cesler. I headed on to my class several buildings away. This is the Speech class (argh!). The classroom was locked, and all the students were parked outside the door waiting for the instructor. Someone came and unlocked it about 5:20, and I headed to my usual spot, the second desk from the front, on the inside wall. I love big, friendly walls.

The instructor came about five minutes late, totally drenched from the massive downpour going on outside. This instructor is one I'm going to like. She is the daughter-in-law of the old couple Sharon used to stay with a long time ago. She is very warm and friendly, and I'm glad I've got her for this miserable class.

The first thing we had to do was write down some pertinent information about ourselves, then pair up and learn about your partner, after which we had to walk to the front of the class and introduce him/her. As my luck usually goes, I got to be partners with Mr. Scruffy. A little Freshman with a wanna-be beard. He is afraid of the dark, but wants to go sky-diving. Go figure. He's from Eastern Kentucky, and that about says it all right there. He can't spell. According to his paper, he is going to major in "electronical" engineering. He apparently loves electronics. I spent the whole ten minutes asking him anything and everything that came to my head. When it came time for the introduction, I knew pretty well everything about him, and he knew next to nothing about me. Oh well.

I spent a good amount of time after class talking with the instructor. She is the human resources manager at FPI (Franklin Precision), and we talked about such things for a good thirty-forty minutes after class.

I got home, helped Jolene with a little project she had going on, took my shower, was about to get started on my homework, and wouldn't you know it...we had an electrical blackout! We made some mad dashes to get some candles lit and tried to figure out what we could do in the dark. Algebra in daylight is bad enough... Algebra in the dark is an impossibility. Sleeping wasn't an option either...who can sleep without a fan? Sharon and I carefully checked the water levels in the sump pumps just to make sure we weren't about to have a catastrophe to deal with. Everything was A-OK up until I forgot that the ceiling in the stink room is slanted and ran my head full force into it. So great... a full-fledged headache in the dark!

The electricity was off for about an hour before it finally came back on. By then it was too late to do much of anything, so we packed ourselves off to bed (after restoring our fan life).

This morning after the ill-fated algebra class (mass confusion amongst all....no comprende!!), I went down the hill to Grise in real time. I had no trouble at all getting there, and I even walked in the right door and up the hall just a little bit, and there was my classroom.

Now this class was an experience. It is taught by the same instructor Sara had a year ago. He is from Kenya. He seems to have a good sense of humor, and half the time throughout the lecture, we all had goofy little smiles on our faces because we just weren't sure what was coming out next. He phrases things so differently, such as... "[the exam] will have multiple choice questions on it, along with scattered showers of true and false," which I thought was kind've funny.

When he had explained all the rules and was going to start the lecture, he just started pacing. Didn't say anything, just paced... and it was pacing in the aisles too. He'd go right up to someone, look them in the eye, smile, turn around and go do the same thing to someone across the room. Jeepers. After what seemed like forever, he finally broke the silence and asked, "So why don't you like silence?" He got various and sundry responses from some of the braver ones. If this is any indication, I think the class will be interesting.