Okay, you caught me. I don't actually know 40 Inuit words for snow. I don't even know one Inuit word for snow. But, thanks to an overeager anatomy professor who receives all of her daily calories from coffee, I can name, identify, and locate six kinds of epithelial tissue and six kinds of connective tissue.
Going back to school has, so far, been a lot more amusing than it was the first time around. When I was doing my undergrad work, cell phones among poor college students were only about half as widespread as they are now. My favorite thing to do in the two-hour gap between classes is to study and eat in the common area while eavesdropping on cell phone conversations. Sometimes they're harmless, like the girl today who was calling to let her ride know that she was out of class an hour early, but sometimes it's obvious that the person I'm hearing has totally forgotten that he or she is in a public place. I've been know to let a few four-letter words slip into my vocabulary and out of my mouth, but I would never carry on a phone conversation at full volume dropping F-bombs while standing in line at the pop machine.
It also tickles me to see just how young new college students look to me now. I'm on a campus with a significant number of nontraditional students, so at 26 I am by no means one of the oldest people walking around, but when the guy sitting next to me told me that he was 17, I was thinking to myself, "That's so cute! You're 17, and you're trying to be a grown up with your laptop and your non-Velco shoes!"
10 months ago