So here’s a taste of my escapades at Mun thus far, whether wild and wacky, intellectually challenging, or just plain embarassing.
My french prof is a pleasant, middle-aged kook who I suspect, gets a little bored going over how to conjugate verbs with unethusiastic first-years who always seem to be half-asleep during class, especially since a grand majority of the material we cover can easily be self-taught with the help of the text book.  No matter, he entertains himself by acting things out to explain them, asking stupid questions (that’s not a complaint, he did once ask "Who likes stupid questions?" so I’m not being mean) and generally just being a bit of an oddball. I sit next to Sandy, my newfound French buddy, and intitally between the two of us we were answering most of the questions, but lately it seems that others are making dints in their cacoons and putting things forward more readily.  What I took away from today’s french lesson?  "Pour la prochain classe, vous lisez page deux cent vingt deux.  Ou deux deux deux.  Deux cent vingt deux.  Deux deux deux."  "Ta ta teetee ta," I replied, for I’m still trying to assimilate to my new classroom environments as well as possible.  I’m not sure how successful that attempt was, however.
Spanish class is like going back to grade one and learning how to count and tell time.  Even something as simple as your name can trip you up.  Today I panicked a little. For a second I actually thought I was meant to say "Me llamas" instead of "Me llamo"!  Yikes!  And no, I’m not trying to communicate about my secret pet llamas in a bizarre, primitive fashion.  "Me llamo" (May yahmo) is actually how one says, "I call myself." Nobody actually has a name in French or Spanish.  They’re always just calling themselves something.
Before I forget, I had a prized moment in the washroom today. I was in this one near the excellent cafeteria in the Engineering building, and I managed to get trapped inside the bathroom stall.  I unlocked the door and it wouldn’t budge.  I’m quite tough, though.  Once the other girl in the bathroom had left, I crawled out from underneath the door. Then when I removed my travel toothpaste and brush out of my purse, I accidently hit a button on my (my mother’s) cell phone, so it insisted that I "say a command. Say a command" in this awful Southern accent. What an awful lot of parroting was on the go today.
Psych is taught by this pretty energetic older guy who was supposed to have retired three years ago (good old profs) and there’s a bit of carrying on.  We study Wundt and the boys. Scientific method. Biopyschosocial or whatever it is.
My English prof doesn’t really seem quite comfortable in front of the class. She trembles. Maybe that’s neurological though, who knows. The literature in the text book is more challenging than what I’m used to, but so far we haven’t done too much. In-class essay on Thursday though. Pumped.
In sociology, Mark’s daughter breezes through a whack of stuff in the one class and confuses people. Well personally I don’t feel too confused. I just have a big ego and assume that at the times I am slightly confused others must be really out of the loop. For the first paper, we have to take two soc articles and compare them based on methodology and theoretical perspectives, as well provide strengths and weaknesses of each article. I have a fair chunk of a rough draft complete. I’m not entirely sure of what I’m talking about, but it’s fun to pretend.
Do I have any other intriguing tales to share? None that I can think of right off the bat.  Once I was sitting in the UC getting some work done and this couple was sitting across from me, and the girl was on her cell phone about the cheese at her house being mouldy for what seemed like twenty minutes, so that was kind of odd.  "Yeah, it wasn’t a huge chunk or anything that was mouldy.  Yeah, make sure to get milk at Wal-Mart too,  You’ll have to shop around. . ." It seemed like a bit of a traumatic event or something.  Another time that I was settled in the UC (or maybe it was the same day at a different time? Who knows? I have a lot of free time) I overheard this girl on a laptop telling this other girl all about her writing exploits. From what I could gather, it seemed to be rather Twilight-esque.  Fan-fiction maybe; I don’t know. Werewolves and a fairly sexual storyline. Not in an explicit way or anything. Seemingly innocent actually. Hard to explain. I felt kind of sad that there are people at uni producing those kinds of things in their spare time. But I got over it.  Whatever makes people happy. It wasn’t as saddening as the cystic fibrosis campaign, in which a straw is offered in a package and it tells you to breathe through it for ex amount of seconds so you know what it’s like to struggle to breathe every day of your life.
Anyway, I’d better be on my way.  I have a bed that I like to sleep in now and then. Extremely useful device. Helps me get up in the morning and everything, provided I use it early enough. Hasta luego, amigos.
 
 
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