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So far so good. I’ve been through a week of classes now (except Mondays, which we had off this week for Labor Day). I like my schedule and my classes, although I have changed it around a bit. I started out with 2 English classes, 2 computer classes and a Calculus class. I’ve now replaced both English classes with Geography and Greek/Roman Mythology. Not that I don’t like English, but I found out I can take a single semester of an advanced English class next semester rather than taking two semesters of simpler ones, and the other one just wasn’t going to work out. It involved several hours of reading a day (more than I wish to have, or can handle) and the teacher, well, she was interesting you might say. Just picture a hippie from Germany telling you “the novel is a very unique genre of writing.” Very interesting indeed.
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Professor Gorbounov (aka Count Dracula) is actually a pretty good teacher, that is, if you don’t mind the fact that he doesn’t exactly cover the techniques he’s assigning you for homework. I have to give him a hand though; he has a slight sense of humor, which makes the class a little more interesting every so often. Also, the guy walks into class every day with nothing to go by (no books, notes, folder, nothing) and immediately picks up where he left off from the previous class. I mean, this guy knows his stuff.
Oh, and just FYI, I had my first Calculus quiz today and I believe I aced it.
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It’s been raining the past two days, non-stop. Morning to evening, all day, a constant drizzle covers the campus. I’ve taken to carrying my umbrella with me everywhere, even if the rain has stopped for a moment. While walking around campus back and forth to class, you see umbrellas of every size and pattern. Every so often I’d walk past a poor soul who didn’t have the luxury of a covering over their head, and it would almost make me feel sorry for them. Actually, it would make me lower my umbrella to hide my face as I snickered.
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Just kidding, of course. I throw my head back in deep-throated, mouth wide-open laughter. No use hiding it, I’m sure they’re aware of the snickering anyway.
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I’ve learned you can tell a lot about someone’s personality by the umbrella they carry. Bright, outgoing; dark, conservative; polka-dotted pink and green, well, they seem to have an apathetic attitude towards other people’s thoughts (or maybe he was making a statement, although I’m not going to venture as to what it may have been).
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I have discovered something. I wasted money on a parking permit. As it turns out, I’m allowed to park (without a permit) on the street right next to my dorm complex. MUCH closer than the Stadium lot. The only rule is that you must move your car once a month (the first Wednesday of each, to be exact) for street cleaning. Ignore this rule and you will be towed. Your car must be moved from 9 in the morning to 3 in the afternoon.
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It was 9:55am yesterday morning. Wednesday morning. I was on my way to Geography class. If you’ll recall from my last update, this is taught by Professor Brunn. Mr. Strict himself. Don’t be late or you have to apologize and give your excuse to the professor, besides the fact that it will not have a positive effect on your grade. Be absent and the following class you must publicly apologize, explaining your absence. I was hurriedly on my way so as not to be tardy. Halfway to the classroom building already, it struck me. My car was parked on the street.
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Now I halted, standing at a crossroads, both figuratively and literally. Continue on my way to class and have my car towed; move my car (if, indeed, it was still there) and deal with Professor Brunn. It seemed I had to choose the lesser of two evils. I spun on my heel and headed towards the street, rain pounding down on my umbrella. Upon reaching a distance where I could see the street far off, I observed that there were still numerous cars parked there. Even if they started towing, it would take a while to get to mine. So I hoped. I turned back and power-walked to class, several minutes away. Had I known at the time that the fine for having your car towed was $120, I would have promptly forgotten Geography and moved my vehicle.
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Calves burning, I rushed to the classroom. The door was closed, not a good sign. I opened it quietly as I could, entered the classroom, closed the door behind me, and hurried to an empty seat near the back of the room. No comments. No “You! Why were you late?” No cocking of guns. Nothing. Just a pause and a nasty look that spoke words on its own: “Don’t let it happen again.” It appears I had arrived very soon after the door had been shut. Lucky me.
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After class I hurried back across campus, anxious to find the fate of my car. I reached the street and was surprised to see my car still sitting where I had left it. In fact, every car on the street sat untouched in its place. It was raining, no street cleaning today. I breathed a sigh of relief and moved my car anyway. Just incase.
There is more, not to this story but others, but seeing as this email is very long already, I’ll save them for another day.
Something for you to look forward to.
Your parking-paranoid pupil,