I never blogged about my first day of school. As I blog this, I'm sitting in the shade, on campus, skipping my first period class.

Now, you might think that I'm back to my old ways, but I have been able to wriggle out of her attendance policy under the pretense of add/drop.

So, let me educate you in my professors. First class is taught by a Dr. Jie Chen. She is very asian, as the name seems to indicate. She speaks very broken english, and is quite difficult to understand. She teaches my Math 125, or Intro to Statistics. My first day was tuesday --

Alright, let me tell you this first. My classes are set up so that my week begins on tuesday, I have Wednesday off, and then I finish on Thursday. It's quite a nice arrangement if I do say so myself. I'm very proud I was able to pour through potential classes, and fit them together so intricately. My day starts at 11:30, and ends at 5:45, and I have 15 minutes in between classes.

Perfect.

Anyway, back to Dr. Chen. My first day was Tuesday, and it was the First day for everyone. She passed out her syllabus, and she started teaching. A) Everyone was like, WTF... it's the first day, half of us aren't going to stay in this class, most of us haven't bought the book yet because you haven't told us what to get... why are you teaching? B) She is almost impossible to understand. I mean this with complete sincerety. I. cannot. understand. her.

Now, this presents and obvious problem to me. If I can't understand, and I don't already know the material... how am I supposed to learn from her? Well, on the plus side, she uses powerpoint with TNR 12pt font, and all of her shows are available online. I mean, let me re-phrase that, all o fmy notes are available online. Tehehe.

Second period is taught by a deshevelled, but hiliarious woman. It reminds me a lot of Mrs. Shinkle in her humour. She'll crack a joke, and because I'm pretty much the only one who has English as a first language, I'm the only one who gets and I start laughing. Then, as the little asians stare at me through slits where they eyes should be, and the blacks come out of their haze, I feel like an idiot. But, she's really funny. This class is economics. With, the most expensive book of them all. Way to go, Kris... you know how to pick them.

Please hold. There is a pigeon right next to me, watching me type. It's quite strange...

He flew away.

Alright, so economics. I'm going to have a great time in that class, and I'm pretty excited for it. One of the first things she said is that, "I take the things you already know, assign complicated terms to them, confuse the hell out of you, and re-explain it to you." Which is absolutely true. Shopping, becomes consumerism, etc. Her name is Joanne Spitz. She talks like she smokes too much. It's like Mama Celeste meets Susan Estrich. Love her.

My third class is English 101. Freshman English. There is no way out of it. I'm going to hate it. However, fortunately for me, the professor, Helene Davis, is a crack pot. She walked into the room for the first time, and spent about ten minutes saying how the room was disembodied, and complained about a big, grey design in the carpet. She's a fruitloop. My aunt had her, and told me that it's the easiest A I'll ever get in my life. Woop.

Oh, yea. That bitch Chen has homework. None of my other classes have homework. They have papers and whatnot, but no homework. If they do have an assignment, it's not like it's an apportioned 25% of the grade. I hate her, and her chink ways. Happy Horriday, bitch.

Fourth class is taught by the leftist straight man I have ever seen in my life. His name is Alan Waters, and it's Anthropology 112. I have to read a ton of books, and do a ton of crap for nothing. Like, on the first day, he assigned a one-page essay. What's something like this worth, you ask... nothing. It's a no-credit assignment. Why would I do this? Self-Improvement? Well, I can write plenty of other papers for other classes, and get a grade on them... WTF Professor Waters... WTF.

So, that's that.

Let's talk a little about features of campus. There are five or six buildings which hold the names of people that were somehow important to the University. My classes are in two halls, and I don't know the rest of the names. Wheatley Hall holds my middle two classes. As I look up, I see on the building in front of me, it's Phillis Wheatley hall. Who was she? I don't know.. I don't care either. I skipped orientation... that might have told me something. And, my other hall is McCormack. Chen and Waters are over there. Suffice to say, I don't like going to McCormack... my two least favourite classes are there.

On the third floor of Wheatley hall, there is a small, student run cafe. They have wonderful snacks, which I am shortly going to purchase. I think perhaps, I'll be able to plug in over there, and I can recharge my battery.

I'm an asshole because I didn't charge my laptop last night. It was on my lap, and I was chatting away, then bedtime came, and I set it on the floor. Oh, well. I'll type more in the Wit's End Cafe, as it's called.

Well, no such luck on plugging in, however, I managed to get myself a marvelous blueberry muffin. It's fantastic, and a Manago Snapple.

I'm on a third floor courtyard. It's fantastic. It's all open air, yet there are two more floors on the surrounding building.

Okay, guys. There are white peple everywhere on my camps, in fact, it looks like they are the majority, however, all of my classes have asians and some black people. I don't get it. Where are they? I want to be with them... Nothing against the asians and all, but I'd rather chill with my fellow whiteys. Oh, and guys... guy guys... there are some pretty attractive people on my campus. but, working n a retail setting, I see a lot of attractive guys from other settings as well. There are so many hot college guys in Boston, I don't know what to do with myself.

Oh, well, that's enough for today. Ready. Set. Post.

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