First day of school (again)

I'd be lying to say I wasn't looking forward to my day back in school. The whole work-sleep-work-sleep-work-sleep thing was getting a little harsh and I needed a change of air, and if anything, college provides a nice little breather.

It was my brother's first day in college, too. He was very nervous, perhaps rightly, perhaps wrongly; at any rate, I agreed to get up early and show him around rather than laze about waiting for my class (he starts at 9:30, but my first class on Thursdays is Photography at noon). I helped him find his first class, he met a friend, and I was left to my own devices for the rest of the day.

Down in the cafeteria, I met Guy, Kitty, Josie, Ban, and noticed I shared my Friday morning English class with Guy (again) and Eva (but I already knew about that one).

It was still early, and I can't say my morning was all that productive. By eleven I noticed I hadn't had lunch yet, forcing me to go search for food. By the time I'd come back, Slim was there. He leaned against the wall behind Josie and I, listening in on the conversation.

In my new resolutions of the year, I have vowed not to seek his company at all times; most importantly, I guess I don't need to anymore.

Because at one point, between two bites of pasta, I felt something pat my shoulder. I turn around and stare way up at him.

Awkwardly, he asks, "Can I see your schedule?"

Two things must be drawn from this. One, he's, like, embarrassed to actually want to know my schedule. I don't care about that; it's his problem. Two, he doesn't share many classes with PB, which must be quite upsetting for the two of them.

I squint up at him and say, "Didn't you check online to see who was in your classes?"

OKAY, I'LL ADMIT IT, I WAS TERRIFIED TOO, until someone told me I could just check my classmates in the college's intranet before actually starting. So I did.

Therefore I already knew that I was in every one of Slim's classes (except French, English and Gym).

But, clearly, Slim didn't. He said, "Um, no. You could?"

"Duh," I say, even though I'm not all that better. Anyway, I add, "We share Photography, Film Production, Television & Media and Philosophy."

He shows no expression at this, but a part of me is relieved. Just to make sure, I continue with a hurried, "Slim, for the bigass Film Prod project, we're teammates, right?"

Because let's face it: Slim has the creativity and technical ability, and I'm the paperwork person. Whoever else ends up on our team will be overwhelmed by the combined awesomeness (I hope). And no way am I letting my chance at a good grade on the biggest project of the session slip away.

He looks a little confused, then nods and shrugs and says, "Yeah, whatever."

Bit of an ass today, Slim?

I turn around in my chair and finish my spaghetti. News about everyone's summer pop up (i.e. Rick broke up with his girlfriend, PB and his girlfriend are still going strong, Alex is still taking drugs, etc.). Overall, it was the day for catching up.

I turn around to look back up at Slim and ask, "Wait. It's almost time for our class. Where's PB?"

He looks around and presses his lips together. "I don't know. Little fag."

I raise a brow. He grins. " 'Little fag' ?"

"Yeah. If he's late to Photography class, I'm calling him that for the rest of the term."

Rather than grace that dumb comment with a response, I pick up my bag and say, to Kitty and Eva who sat across from me, "I'm heading upstairs. See you."

They waved and I walked off, followed by Slim, who was muttering about PB being of the unreliable sort. It struck me as I walked up the stairs and down hallways that I knew a large part of the school population. It's like everywhere I looked I recognized friendly faces.

We reached our Photography class and I chose a table in the back. Not for lack of choice, Slim still decided to sit next to me, keeping the third chair for PB (should he come, as we still hadn't seen neither trademark blonde hair nor blue eyes).

Eventually, Liz sat next to Slim, and Max and PB finally showed up (a tad late, causing Slim to mumble 'little fag' in PB's laughing direction) and we all sat in the back, perfectly aware that this class would be ruled by our good humour for the rest of the term (I mean, really: Slim, PB, Max, Liz and I. BEST. COMBINATION. EVER.).

Because it was the introductory class, we finished an hour early. Meaning PB (who apparently hadn't had lunch) and Ban (who is always hungry) suggested to visit a new restaurant on a nearby boulevard. Since I had an hour to kill and Slim had two, we four packed into PB's car and we headed to that little restaurant.

And so by the time I reached by 3:00 French class, I was stuffed with the best carrot cake I've had in a long, long time.

Perhaps that's why, by the time the teacher had started droning on and on about what this term's French class was all about, I was ready to sleep. Kate (a friend from my old high school), next to me, kept poking my shoulder with a pen (she was also bored out of her mind), and Tony (from last session's philosophy class ―a smug jerk with a really hot friend) kept glancing at me to see if I was going to attempt a break in the monotony.

Since I dislike Tony (he thinks he's so much better than I because I'm a leftie (?!?) and I study Arts, while he's a rightie communist who thinks he knows all about communism when he really doesn't), I vowed to not break monotony one bit. For now. Eventually, by the time the teacher notices me (as, I'm sorry to say, they always do, because I'm one of the happy few who can actually spell), I'll have more freedom to affect the class' boredom factor.

Overall, I give this first day of school a 4.5 out of 5. Which is pretty good, even though it feels more like, "Hey, more of the same and long time no see, people!" than an actual back-to-school.

Can't wait for my next classes. This term should, by rights, be awesome.

Love,
CM

9:00PM update! Rating lowered to 2.5, for the following reason:

Bass called. Like fifteen minutes ago.

AND ASKED ME OUT (AGAIN).

And I was like, "I have school at 8:00 tomorrow. I think not."

Him: "Oh. Well. I thought it'd be nice."

My brain: "SAY NO SAY NO SAY NO SAY NO SAY NO"

My heart: "SAY NO SAY NO SAY NO SAY NO SAY NO SAY NO"

The rest of my body: "FUCK NO."

Me: "*awkward laugh* Haha, well my schedule's crap, what can I say?"

Him: "Yeah, mine's a little weird too."

Me: "I mean, I have a four hour break on Tuesdays. FOUR HOURS."

Him: "Really? Wow---"

My brain: "--YOU FUCKING IDIOT WHY DID YOU TELL HIM THAT YOU'RE SUCH A MORON---"

Him: "I have a four hour break on Tuesdays too!"

Me: "Oh. Well---"

My brain: "NICE GOING, JACKASS."

Me: "--that's cool, I guess. What a coincidence."

Him: "Must be destiny, huh?"

My brain: "Okay, change of plans. Before he asks you out on some dreadful date where you keep checking your watch, offer the lesser of two evils. Have lunch with him. You have to be back by 4:00 at school anyway: he can't drag you away to some remote shack in the woods to make a move on you."

My heart: "DOESN'T HE HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?? WHY DOESN'T HE ASK HIS GIRLFRIEND???"

The rest of my body: "Ask him what happened to his girlfriend, dammit."

My brain: "ARE YOU INSANE??? You don't ask that kind of shit!"

My heart: "Yeah, poor guy, what if he broke up with her? Nice sensitivity there, people."

The rest of my body: "Well the asshole has been awfully mean to his girlfriend if he's cheating on her with you, isn't he? He doesn't exactly DESERVE sensitivity."

My brain: "That is, if he didn't drop his girlfriend like a bathrobe on naked day."

My heart: "WHY CAN'T GOOD GUYS EVER CALL ME FOR DATES???"

My brain: "Christ, just tell him you'll have lunch with him. It's just lunch. After that you'll be home-free for another six months at least."

The rest of my body: "If he doesn't think you're officially dating."

My brain: "SHUT UP, YOU."

Me: "Wow, hey, we should have lunch then. Next Tuesday."

Him: "Yeah, great, that sounds great. What time??"

Me: "Um. Noon. Noon should be fine. Noon-ish. Maybe one o'clock."

Him: "Okay, noon."

Me: "Um, yeah. But I have to be back by 4:00. And so do you."

Him: "Yeah, sucks, huh?"

Me: "Um, well, I like French class. I don't mind."

Him: "Oh. Right. So---"

Me: "We can go to some nice restaurant. Not a fast food. I can't stand fast food. I ate fast food all summer and I can't stand it anymore."

My brain: "Ooh, good. Keep talking. If he can't place a word, you're better off."

My heart: "Ask him to an expensive restaurant. He's not a fancy guy. It'll make him feel awkward. He's less likely to ask you out again for a while. And it'll serve him right for not taking the hint."

The rest of my body: "Oooooh, fooooood..."

Him: "Haha, that's---"

Me: "How about that italian place? It's got a nice, fancy place just up the street."

My brain: "Because God forbid he'd get a car and DRIVE you somewhere a wee bit further."

My heart: "That's a little harsh, brain."

My brain: "Bite me. PB and Slim both have cars. I bet they don't have to rely on that italian place."

Me: "So we can just walk there and be within five minutes' walk of college. It's great, huh?"

Him: "Uh, yeah, right. Look, maybe we shouldn't make plans for the place itself just yet."

My brain: "Why, smartass? Broke again?"

Me: "Yeah, whatever. We'll figure it out then."

My brain: "Bad idea."

My heart: "What other choice does she have??"

My brain: "I'm just saying. Bad idea."

Him: "Yeah. So, um... Tuesday, noon."

Me: "Meet me in the caf."

Him: "THE CAF?"

My brain, my heart and the rest of my body: "The fuck? What's up with the overreaction? A little outta place here, buddy."

My brain: "Very suspicious."

Me: "Um, yeah. The caf."

My heart: "OMG maybe when Slim sees Bass is asking you out, he'll be hungry enough to tag along."

My brain: "WITH GUY AND PB AND BAN!!!!!"

My heart: "Oh my god this is brilliant."

Him: "Yeah. Right. so, uh..."

Me: "So I'll see you then."

Him: "Um, yeah, okay---"

Me: "Okay, bye!"

Him: "Huh? Oh, uh, bye!"

And I hung up.

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WWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!