"Fashionably late" was the word that flashed through my mind as I ran (while trying to look like I was walking) to make it on time to my typography class. Sunglasses, styling outfit, hair flowing in the non-existent wind, my fellow pupils would "oh" and "ah" as I entered. Or so I might have thought if I had not lived in the place that I do; reality. Tardiness has its downfalls at times, and yesterday was no exception to that.

I had been, for the forth time (despite registering for classes via phone to make it "easier"), standing in a seemingly endless line that couldn't help but make one feel like a hungry Russian wanting bread. Yet again, the apparently clueless counselors had thrown my once tranquil schedule into total disarray. Going for hopefully the last visit, I told them exactly the time, class, code, and room number of the classes that I wanted, and originally, had signed up for. Happily nodding heads, they compiled and said it was all worked out. Waving goodbye at last, I walked out the door, not noticing an in advance shafting that had given me. Apparently, they must have seen some of the photographs I had taken at Christmas, because they really think I need to take a lot of photography. Signed up for two of the exact same class, I shook an angry, vengeful fist in their direction and vowed never to return. That is, until I have to go back and drop that extra photography class they added.

It was around this time I noticed it was 5 passed the hour, which made me 5 minutes late and my race to be on time impossible lest I run so fast I shoot myself back in time. Tossing aside Einstein principles and dignity alike, I decide I might as well test it. What could I lose...besides respect?

I finally arrived at class (late as you might have guessed...and good for you!), sunglasses lost during my run, outfit crumpled and sweaty, and my hair matted to my forehead. Noticing I was without a computer to sit at, I thought my time travel experiment very well might have worked, taking me back two days before when I again did not have a computer. Reason for the lack of computer isn't for me being late, as you might expect, but rather having to add that class at the last minute because the counselors had screwed me again!

Getting in typography took a special note from the woman in charge of the graphic design majors, because the class was already full. It never occurred to me that I might not be the only one who had gotten that special permission.

Sitting on an uneven legged stool (didn't even get a CHAIR!) off in the corner, I waited for the teacher to arrive so we could discuss what to do about this. Hard to do computer graphics with no computer and all. While waiting, I observed the other end of the room filled with the 'fearsome foursome' that are in every single one of my classes, much to my dismay. Seemingly straight out of high school, if not elementary, they are somehow already in the same level classes I am, despite my previous 3 years hard working to get there. So that leads me to believe only their maturity is straight out of elementary, but not their physical bodies. These are the sort of people you always had in some classes that just annoy you in one fashion or another. Their leader, Yellow Man Walking, is a living fashion "don't". Now, I'm no Calvin Klein, but I know bad taste when I see it (like when I look in the mirror) and this guy is it. Dressed in all yellow, from his hat down to his shoes, both times I've seen him, he really doesn't do anything annoying except cause me to have to squint when he is in my field of vision (had I not lost my sunglasses in the run, it wouldn't be a big deal). Top it all off with his badly shaped, orange lens sunglasses that he wears inside and you've got yourself a winner in the style department. His posse, Sound Effects Boy, Hair-Flip Dude, and Not-Really-Annoying-But-Hangs-Out-With-Them-So-He-Must-Be-Bad Guy. Who am I to judge, I know. But I do, have, and shall continue. I haven't really spoken to them but my relationship with them is not unlike the plagues of Egypt. They are the blood-filled river to my entirely river-based economy.

As I'm getting ready to release the Chosen People to rid myself of my curse, the teacher decides to show up. After a little talk with her, a little computer repair, and a bit of time, we have a few of the broken computers fixed. So perhaps I, and the other few with no computer, can have one. The others sit down, smiling wide that they can finally surf the net, when I notice a problem. There is still not one for me. I'm told I'll have to go to the empty computer lab next door and work by myself which, quite frankly, is fine by me. There isn't anyone in the class I really want to talk to, it's far too crowded for my tastes, and the cute girl with the red streaked hair is coming with me because her computer keeps locking up. Despite her being the only one I might have an interest to talk to, I don't say but ten or so words to her total, and she returns the sentiment. It wasn't one of my bold days nor a day which I felt very entertaining, so I kept my head between my legs and worked silently, which I found to be a shame (for more reasons than because it stunk down there). Shyness is more frustrating than anything. I'm told some find it sexy, but certainly never any I've been interested in. And of course, I'm not exactly looking for someone as my interest has been in the same place for a while, but it'd be nice to feel wanted =)

Pretty much the only good thing about the day was that I pummeled the limitations of my project with extreme prejudice. I managed to push the instructors specifications to the breaking point like an inactive software developer pushing the limits of his belt with "just one more Twinkie".

A disclaimer...I never said all of my entries were going to be as (hopefully) entertaining as some of my others, so for those expecting a laugh today, I apologize. =)

devolve | evolve