oh, college
I went back to college. I am actually sitting in a dormitory right this very minute. I can sort of see the evening and lights through my window, which is on the top floor of the dorm. Mostly, I can't see anything though because my desk wedges me in tightly next to the wall in a way I can't even begin to explain. My only companion is my computer, which I can fortunately play C-Span on. I have been watching C-Span for a couple hours, interspersed with eating a can of pineapple and staring longingly at my wall. I was imagining the wall wasn't there and I was in a Medieval Viking dining hall, eating hot greasy meat with my hands and singing along with my fellow Norsemen after a successful raiding/pillaging expedition. It's not so much the dead animal I crave as the companionship and being interesting. Now that I am old, I don't feel particularly interesting anymore. I may have more stories about drinking copious amounts of liquor, vomitting and then sleeping in some inhospitable outside climate than the youngsters I'm surrounded by, but I don't particularly want to relate those tales of excess overmuch. That's why I opted not to record the circumstances of my latest birthday and limited my New Year's Eve narrative to just what went along with the photos (I think you can all see them at my My Space, should you be so inclined).
So far, I've mostly only talked to my roommate, who is eight years younger than me and plays the clarinet. We don't really have anything in common, but he is well-networked enough to not spend all day in the dorm room watching C-Span (right now, I am listening to Book TV. It is Anthony Feinstein, who is not as awesome as Edwin Black and his assertion that he "sleep[s] three hours a night."); I managed to forget my cell phone charger so my phone is dead and I am totally off the grid. Oh no! At least no nefarious criminals can find me. Well, I guess they can discover my geographic location and observe me discreetly, but they can't subtly communicate with me through texts or anything. The future, basically, cannot murder me with android assassins quite as easily right now.
Tomorrow, I will be going to my first college classes in five years, minus a brief dalliance with collegiate learning a year and a half ago. I predict Vietnam-like flashbacks.
So far, I've mostly only talked to my roommate, who is eight years younger than me and plays the clarinet. We don't really have anything in common, but he is well-networked enough to not spend all day in the dorm room watching C-Span (right now, I am listening to Book TV. It is Anthony Feinstein, who is not as awesome as Edwin Black and his assertion that he "sleep[s] three hours a night."); I managed to forget my cell phone charger so my phone is dead and I am totally off the grid. Oh no! At least no nefarious criminals can find me. Well, I guess they can discover my geographic location and observe me discreetly, but they can't subtly communicate with me through texts or anything. The future, basically, cannot murder me with android assassins quite as easily right now.
Tomorrow, I will be going to my first college classes in five years, minus a brief dalliance with collegiate learning a year and a half ago. I predict Vietnam-like flashbacks.