For the record, 2002 was a really stupid year.
Anyway, I'm back in Ames, going to college, working my new job at a residence hall desk. I had kind of an odd feeling when I found myself slinging porn and embroidery magazines around three hours into the job--sometimes at the same destination--but I got used to it. Sort of.

This semester places me at the fourth semester on the mechanical engineering track... it's an intense, math-heavy bunch of classes; rather like being banished to a sports bar that, for some reason or another, is entirely out of alcohol. That's not to say there aren't plenty of cool people. It just leaves me with another odd feeling when I go into a class of forty or so and see exactly one young lady. This feeling being especially odd, because I remember something (I think) Charlie Parker said once about why he stopped playing fusion; how he looked out from his horn over the crowd one night, and there weren't any girls in the crowd; that he knew right then that fusion wasn't going to make it. And fusion was dead--abandoned by even Miles Davis, its patron saint--within five years.

I have exactly one female instructor: a recitation leader from Cyprus named Antonia Antoniou. All the rest are male and, with the exception of Dr. Cochrane (my physics professor), not so young anymore. I think Dr. Tsai is pushing sixty. So Antonia Antoniou is a refreshing break from the pedantics; another of those flighty, charmingly sarcastic graduate students I've had the pleasure of being enrolled under since coming to Iowa. Like Ms. Ramesh and Ms. Yang, she hates us all, which I honestly appreciate because deep down, in my heart of hearts, I hate my fellow future gearheads to no end. So I guess all is right with the world, except that Antonia Antoniou uncannily resembles (for those of you in the know) my old debate kinsperson Alana, right down to the light-hearted, ironic smile and the willfully flailing hand gestures. It's awesome, but damned if I didn't get the oddest feeling every time Antonia Antoniou, the Cyprian Alana, said, "Okay. Look." followed by something profound.

I've had a lot of odd feelings since coming back to college. I am adjusting.

In other news, War and Peace is awesome. You probably could have told me that, and I thank you for having patience with me; I can be kind of slow. I mean, I'm still trying to figure out if there are four Maryas, or just three, and also having the damndest time keeping my Karagins and Kuragins straight. And don't get me started on Andreitch, Andreitch, and Andre. Thank God they all seem to love dying so at least I won't have so many to worry about by the time I'm done.
...really, I love the book more than I have loved any other book. I'm just jesting because it's the closest I can come to being critical of Tolstoy right now.

BONUS MEDIA: None, because I'm really tired. Sorry! I'd recommend snagging your favorite classic epic from Project Gutenburg instead if you still have some free time.