So I made my course selections yesterday. Couple workshops, couple lectures. That's right, I'm heading off to school in the fall. Time to catch up with the kids and their fancy degrees. I wonder if I'll get along with my dorm mates? I hear that one of my profs is a real hard case. I hope she likes me. Okay, I'm kidding about the dorm, but everything else is true. I'm going to crack me some books (not the ones in the picture -- those books would crack me). It's been a few decades, but I'm sure college life will start coming back to me. Keggers, all nighters, maybe some embarrassing experiments. I might even remember how to write an essay. And when it's all over I'll have some extra letters to write after my name. Totally worth it. Oh, and I was kind of lying about the prof too. She seems really nice. Got my room numbers. Got my knapsack, and Hilroy notebooks, and some freshly sharpened pencils. I'm good to go. I haven't quite decided how to handle frosh week. I'm okay with drunk and disorderly, but what if there's hazing? I'll buckle -- I know I will. When the going gets tough I fold like origami. My best chance may be to convince people that I'm some crazy kid's dad, come to pick them up. (Speaking of kids and craziness, I found my i-pod in a Kleenex box. Whew. But I am still a prank pin cushion. Imo's latest involved unplugging everything in the house. I came back late last night and nearly killed myself stumbling around in the dark. One of these days that girl will go too far. No, wait. She already has.)
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