I am Your Sunshine

Woke up in the morning, sort of frustrated, thinking, “gotta return the pillow I bought yesterday. It’s not doing my neck any good.”

Went to school. Took me around 15 minutes to find a space. Walked passed a guy wearing Hrvatska jacket. Took it as a good sign. Wondered if he would find it weird if I stopped him and said “I love your national football team. Niko Kovac is my hero, et cetera, et cetera.”

My Brit Lit: Victoria + Modern teacher was surprisingly young. He looked as if in his late twenties but he had to be at least thirty something. That’s just not right. Caucasians should look older than their actual age. He had two earrings and a punk-ish haircut. He’s nothing like my Brit Lit: Neo-classical + Romantics teacher. He offended at least one of the students in the first 10 minutes. He sure got style. I’m not able to decide whether it’s a good thing or not yet.

We got 20 or so people for Literary Magazine this quarter. (I decided to take it, even though it drove me nuts to read some really crappy works. Nevertheless, the experience in all was rather pleasant and rewarding.) Most of the people seem nice and willing to contribute to the magazine. But I’ve grown cynic by the end of last quarter. We’ll see how many will stick around two weeks later.

That’s about it. Off to cook my second dinner.