2 days of mammoth proportions

Yesterday was mostly one big nervous spasm.

I managed to get out the door ridiculously close to on time (9:07), and listened to the bluegrass gospel train show on my Sirius radio for the better part of 3 hours. Even managed a pit stop at my favorite gas station/convenience store/trucker bar when I had to pee. Peachy, right? Until I got back to campus and had to turn right back around and drive into Austin. And fight the insane Austin traffic. And navigate one way streets. Why do they make one way streets? Driving, especially in the city, stresses me out enough already, and then they add in confusing streets of doom for the directionally retarded (me). Fortunately Jack and Adam's new location doesn't suck like their old one, so I found it with comparative ease. Jack himself helped Ben pick out his new bike. The experience was disconcerting in a semi-pleasant way when Jack kept asking my professional opinion as a bike store employee. I just agreed with him for the most part. (Umm, yeah, the more carbon the better, right?) Somewhat cool to be asked for a second opinion by an expert. Ha...

Two hours and $1200 later, we discovered we didn't have reverse directions. Good thing for us all of the non-numbered streets run parallel to I35, as far as I can tell. I finally ate a meal when we got back but had to get in my car once again to drive to HEB for provisions, since my friend wouldn't relinquish her parking spot. I tried to finish unpacking after that, but my back was so seized up from the intensity of the day that I was walking around like an old woman. Our hall meeting was a different experience now that I live in a girls' dorm. People are all smiley and clappy and giggley. People are still ridiculous, male or female, however. When I introduced myself, a girl immediately said that we should watch The Little Mermaid. Hardyharhar, how original. Getting in my comfortable bed in my quiet room with the pleasant and wonderful roommate was the highlight of my experience.

Strange dream again, though. I was the first female president, at age 18. Somehow I caused a deluge of rubber torpedoes to smother a room full of models, yet no one suspected me. The secret service wasn't even escorting me or questioning me. I was just walking around with my mom, wondering why no one cared that I was the president. A family was just standing there smiling and I told them, "I've been awfully busy, being president, you know..." and they just gave me a look of indifference.

Today was the first day of class. Social Problems is on the 3rd floor of a very old and creepy building, far far away. My very good friend Robert is in it, though, and it seems really interesting in an I might want to actually do my homework kind of way. Sociology is very quickly capturing my interest. Then a meeting with my violin teacher, who told me not to quit violin because she didn't want to lose me as I was "blossoming."

From there I got my mail-- 2 Time magazines that I didn't know I was subscribed to, a small paycheck, and a letter saying I'd made dean's list. Psychology was in a room far too large for the class size or to hear the professor's uncompassionate and snarky remarks. From there, lunch and a meeting with my adviser. He told me to quit violin and focus on other things. His philosophy was that I shouldn't do if I couldn't live without it. How much I agree with that I'm not sure, but he was rather encouraging with his typical ego-puffing talk. This time he told me I'm one of "maybe 12" amazing writers on campus. Twelve was probably an arbitrary number, but I get his point and sure hope he's right.

Triathlon class followed, and I'm pretty excited about that. The first few weeks will probably be a bit slow and frustrating, but the reward is worth it. After class I popped into the training room to have them look at my hip, thinking it would be just a quick little exam...Little did I know I'd have an appointment for an xray in Austin tomorrow...or that I'd spend all afternoon dealing with insurance.

Orchestra proved even more confusing than my previous two opinions on the violin situation. The good news is that my teacher gave me the wrong grade and that I actually still have a 4.0. The bad news is that that makes my choice have less of a foundation. Her words aided my confusion further...She first said that she quit softball in college in order to play her flute more and that sometimes we have to make those kinds of choices. Then she said that I should learn the Alexander posture method so that I could keep playing, handed me a lady's information, and told me to go to class. Well, thanks for the no help at all.

WHAT DO I FREAKING DO?!??!

My mom's advice: sometimes you have to just yell "shit!" and jump.

On a completely different topic, I'm quite sure my roommate and suitemate know every pop culture reference ever. Every actor, every movie, every book. It's uncanny.

Wish me luck tomorrow...