No. 2: My first day

I'd forgotten what college is like. I have hazy memories of incisive round table discussions and awkward, low-level flirting and a general atmosphere of intellectualism and comradeship. I'm quite sure that's all true.

It's not quite like I remember it, though. There was a lot of sitting in a little windowless room, and a lot of avoiding eye-contact. There was shyness and strained good humor during the far-too-long professor-mandated mingling period.

There was a lot of "where'd you do your undergrad" talk, which took me back to 2000 and all the "where'd you go to high school" talk.

The undergrads still interest me. They ride a city bus back to the main campus out of town, and my walk to class takes me past their bus stop. My class starts around the time most of the undergrads are only thinking about what senior is going to buy them a six pack of Smirnoff Ice and a pint of SoCo. They seem so young, huddled in the cold before the bus comes.

I can pick out my fellow grad students, usually. My school has a lot of older people going back, but even the people my age are noticeable. They're in the background. School isn't life for us. It's a part of life. And it's serious, because it's on our dime. Or our future dime, we hope.

I was hoping this blog would be funnier, but so far I've been in a very reflective mood. Once I get a week or two in, my trademark wit will rush forth. I'm sure.