School was accomplished today. I went to class, took good notes, listened to the questions, and fell asleep for only, cumulatively, 5 minutes. The best way to assess how much I learned or paid attention is to ask myself what the lecture was about several hours later: Word retrieval and the fact that he added 4 points to everyone's mid-term. That's what I'm going to walk away with from that class today.
Anyway I don't know why I'm typing about this; that was an attempt to make me feel better about my academic life.
so there has been a little discord and upset in our house lately. I haven't been so close with one of my roommates for days now and it is really unsettling, but at the same time I was coming to terms with the fact that maybe that was our season and the time has past. I don't take separation very easily though so I'm not comfortable with just saying, "that was inevitable." Anyway I ran into her on my walk home from school. There ended up being a little pow-wow of us friends in the middle of the road. We got this smart idea to try and ride the bike home with all 3 of us as passengers, peddlers, or supporters. It turned into a game where the object was that we weren't getting home unless all three of us were simultaneously touching the bike as it was in motion. This required a lot of fearless effort and osmosis. I became a bird perched on the bike seat, a koala holding onto koalamum while nestled on the bar (you know the one that distinuigshes girl bikes from guy bikes), and then I became a penguin penguin-walking the bike home trying to avoid hurting my achilles tendons. We, all three of us biketeers, made it home, finally. It was awkward and fun- my definition of a good time.
So in the midst of literally trying to become one on the bicycle, I think there was another kind of bonding occurring. I forgot how fun it was to hang out with these people, namely, my roommate. She is precious and vivacious. And I trust her, even as a third passenger on a bike with one seat.
Another interesting moment today was when I was asked "What do women want?" I am really not the girl to answer this question. If my opinion counted for all women, we'd all be dating my father. Someone who wrote me poems about my red hair, pretended to be Mr. Peterson from the cheese factory, sings 'one clodhopper, two clodhopper' when he puts on his shoes, and knows how to paint a picture and change the oil. I was spoiled with such a great man growing up, so now I've lowered the standards because no one could be that good right off the bat. Now I am shamefully easily impressed by anything and everything, i.e.: "He said thank you....and I think he meant ittttt.
I'll keep peddling til I find him.