Still no internet, by the way.

Many things for a twenty-year-old college student to do on a Friday night. Tonight I talked to you. I didn't leave. I talked to you, and you talked to me. Words made my Friday night better than any action could.

I think I'll just stay here.

Cable modem installation unsuccessful = check computer for problems = can't fathom a reason websites won't open on my computer = call Cox Communications for assistance = talk with Richard the technician for 1.5 hours = still have no internet = still have no clue why modem and computer hate each other = will call Cox tomorrow morning = a technician will come and discover that I did something to my computer = he'll take my money I need for books and car = I won't buy my school books or fix my car = I flunk my exams and my car still screams = I flunk my classes and my car scares people = I flunk out of school and my brakes stop working = I have no job and live in my car, which lays lifeless against a telephone pole I crashed into

The last three or four nights have stretched along in consciousness, my body pressed against black pillows and sheets, never finding a position allowing me to relax and submerge into sleep. My brain--- or is it my mind?--- took a sabbatical from the world of academia while in Pensacola and instead fostered on emotional maturity, learning about the deeper layers of love and how to handle the obstacles lain in front of a twenty-year-old child set to become a man. The new (old) atmosphere of schooling thrusts me back into the stage of present dedication and future planning of education. When I turn off my bedroom light the goal is to sleep, but my brain (mind?) activates all its tiny lights and races through these bloated balls of questions and ideas. I wonder when during the day can I schedule time to read for classes; if my choice of courses will help me attain future prosperity in my career; what I can do next summer to maintain momentum before graduate school; whether I should just graduate a semester early or take two part-time semesters next year and look into working in a relevant Gainesville institute such as the courthouse; where in this world graduate school will relocate my life. I should have given more love and attention to the academic part of my brain. He tussled locked in the shell I made for him, and now that I opened that shell, he makes me tussle.

Highlights from the first day of classes:

>>>Sitting at the bus stop for the first time, awaiting the bus, here it comes, here it comes... what's the bus driver doing? He's shaking his hand at me as if to say, "Go away. The bus can hold no more." There it goes. Cross the street back to apartment. "Hey Dave, can you drive me to campus?"
>>>Discovering that my summer course in Corrections gives me an edge over the other suckers students in my History of Corrections class.
>>>Yea, at least the bus will bring me home!
>>>Deciding to order cable modem from Cox rather than get a phone line, saving me about $27/month. Apparently Misty, the operator I spoke to from Bellsouth, goes by the script and just blurts out remarks like an automated teller. Her closing remarks after I cancelled my phone line order: "Thank you for choosing Bellsouth. Have a good day."
>>>Ooh, the bus will pick me up now!
>>>Scoping out the room at my World Musics class. There's this girl on the other side of the room. My eyes have retired for the day on her face. Something about this Asian girl with the school-teacher glasses and the fine clothing just mesmerizes me, as though I'm now in the presence of a fine work of art I've longed to catch a glimpse of my entire life. You better stop staring because she'll eventually catch you and think you're a freak. Why can't I stop staring? Oh crap, she's looking over! Oh crap, eye contact! Oh crap, she just smirked a faint smile this way! Should I strike the nerve to talk to her after class? Wow, I'm just not ready yet. Ok, stop staring now.
>>>First concert I find out I'm supposed to attend for a World Musics paper: the David Benoit Trio. He effin rocks!
>>>No, I'm sorry, miss: I would remember if I had appeared on Guiding Light.
>>>Josh is introducing us servers to the girls of Chi O. Calls out Raphael, check. Mike, check. Brandon, check. Enrique Iglesias, whuh? What's he talking about? Wait a minute, he's pointing toward me! Ok, so now he'll tell them my real name. Chris, check. Wait... he didn't tell the new girls my real name! Now they're all calling me Enrique. My name is--- hmmmmmm---I kind of like it. I mean, if Anna Kournikova likes calling out the name, it must be a keeper.
>>>A crowded table of friends reunited after a summer apart. The Alehouse walls have not moved an inch; they stand exactly as I remember. Hey, there's Chasity (not Chastity), the coolest waitress ever! Hey Chas! Aw, she remembers my order. But not tonight thanks, for this evening would be Monday: All-You-Can-Eat Wings for $6.95. Seven guys share laughs, loads of wings, and eventually all rush out in a race to the their home toilets!

The first day back to school always turns out to be either hectic and stressful or crazy and thrilling. A day like this requires all your energy, cool, and focus. The second day, while for most people comprised of entirely new classes and experiences, never reaches that upper echelon of uncurbed pacing and saved memories. This school year has premiered with the thrills we all hope a new beginning will deliver. The future holds to reveal whether this first day is merely a Monday on my calendar, or whether today serves as an omen for a spectacular year.