Jack? Jack?! I dunno no Jack!

Four classes today. Count 'em: four! Except Institute might not count, since I'm not getting credit for it.

My first class today was English 213, Academic Writing in the Social and Natural Sciences. Despite the horrific name, I think I'm going to enjoy this class a lot. For one thing, the teacher smiled the whole class, which is always a good sign. For another, there seem to be several very interesting people in the class. While we went around the room introducing ourselves, two other guys and I managed to steer the conversation to the robot revolution and how we should ditch our textbooks and read Isaac Asimov instead because we need to prepare ourselves for when the robots take over the world. The teacher said he didn't think so, and I suggested we could learn to write a persuasive essay to the robots to get them to stop attacking us. The teacher said we could just cut the power. I knew I should've majored in law. Lawyers can argue anything.

After that was Philosophy 322, which is Ethics. Turns out the teacher's out of town until next week, so no class till next Thursday, but he did have someone there to pass out a syllabus and a homework assignment. Class lasted all of five minutes. From the syllabus, I'd say the class seems a little fluffy, but it's a core requirement. I just think it's silly writing arguments to prove Aristotle is mortal. "Aristotle is human. Humans are mortal. Therefore, Aristotle is mortal." Okay. Very good. Yes. I see it now. This is like beginning algebra with words. A = B. B = C. Therefore, A = C. Oh WOW! BFD! On the other hand, the first homework assignment is watching a science fiction movie called Solaris. Any class that lets us study science fiction or fantasy HAS to be good, right?

That reminds me: In my English class, we'll have to do a big research paper. Any ideas for good topics? I was toying with the idea of writing a comical paper about the promotion of communism in My Little Pony.

Anyway, my next class was Sign Language. I'm not actually signed up for the class--I'm on the wait list. As it turns out, there are four people on the wait list, and I'm at the bottom. Also, I've forgotten so much that I was almost totally lost in class today. So I'm wondering if I should keep going, try to review, and just hope that four people drop the class (it's a class of 20, so it seems unlikely), or if I should drop the class and try to get a different one. I was toying with the idea of taking beginning French. I took French in high school and got 112%, so it should be fairly easy. Of course, it's a five-credit class, and this university charges by the credit, so it'd be fairly pricey. And I'd have to take another semester of it after this one. Blah, I dunno. Stupid options. Why can't someone else make my decisions for me so I can whine at THEM when they turn out to be terrible choices? Either way, I want to get this worked out as soon as possible.

Then I went to Institute. It didn't take too long to find the building, and I walked in to a room with a foosball table, a pool table, a piano, a ping-pong table, several armchairs, and a bunch of kids sitting around talking. This was probably the coolest part of the day.

I stood in the doorway awkwardly for a moment (I'm shy, remember?), then stepped forward and said, "Hi, is this Insti--" and was interrupted by one of the guys jumping up, running over to me, and crying "Tell me you're not a Fordham!"

I stared at him. "Uh...."

"Are you from Virginia? Which one are you?"

"How did you know? Do I know you? Who are you?"

"Which one are you? What are you doing here??? I'M SO GLAD TO SEE YOU!!!!"

I still had no idea who this guy was. I racked my brains. I definitely didn't recognize him. Who would I know from church that knows enough to ask me "Which one are you?" that's in their twenties and that I wouldn't recognize? "You're not... are you Jonathan DeFabio???"

"Oh my gosh, I haven't gone by that name in SO LONG!!!" And he practically launched himself at me and gave me an enormous hug.

Frankly, I'm still in shock about several things: One, Jonathan DeFabio's here. In Fairbanks. With me. Two, he goes by Jack. Three, he's in Fairbanks! Four, he RECOGNIZED me after almost ten years. Five, he's in the Army. Six, he's still hyper, but now it's more a fun hyper than an annoying hyper. Seven, he's in Fairbanks. And eight, he's actually pretty attractive.

Hahaha, I still can't believe there's someone here I know! Oh, know what else is funny? There's a second person here I know too! Her name is Jennifer. She and I took a class together at BYU. At least, I think we did, but I can't remember which class. I just know I recognize her and that she graduated from BYU two years ago, so that's the only place I could have met her. We may have just been in the same ward or something.

And then there was a guy named Travis who was playing the piano after the lesson. He was playing Jon Schmidt at first, so I disregarded him. At BYU, everyone and their dog plays Jon Schmidt. So I wandered into the next room to try and talk someone into letting me play foosball. (Everyone left just when it was my turn to play, so I didn't get to... whiiine.) But after a while, I heard Travis change songs. And he was playing video game music! More specifically, he was playing the intro to Final Fantasy X! So I dashed into the room where he was playing, fell to my knees, and said, "You're playing Final Fantasy music! I love you! Marry me NOW!"

Don't worry, he didn't say yes, so I'm not engaged.

After that, we played volleyball until eleven. I really shouldn't have stayed up so late, but I haven't had much of anyone to talk to in days, and I haven't gotten much exercise in a very very long time, so I figured it couldn't hurt. By the way, playing volleyball with girls is hilarious. Any time the ball comes towards them, either they're so busy talking about their nails that they don't notice it, or they see it coming and just cringe and hope someone standing nearby has the guts to dive for it. Me, I just have the tendency to hit the ball way too hard, usually in the wrong direction, and often with only one hand. Oh well. At least I try. And everyone had fun, so that's good. Glad we didn't keep score. I tend to get competitive when that happens.

I did remember one reason why I prefer basketball to volleyball. Two, actually. One is that you don't really get to move around as much in volleyball. Few moments of action, wait for serve, wait for ball to come to you, lather, rinse, repeat. In basketball, you're moving all the time, whether you have the ball or not. The other reason is that my skin is so pathetic that when I hit the volleyball once, my entire arm turns red. Yeah yeah, tell me I'm just hitting it wrong, go ahead. Anyway, I've never had that problem with basketball. I've slipped, tripped, run into people and walls, got hit in the face with the ball, been kicked and shoved, and somersaulted overtop of the ball... but I do all that in volleyball too. PLUS hurt my hands, arms, and wrists.

Anyway, that's all for now. I'm really exhausted--it's three hours past the time I've been going to bed lately, and it was a looooong day. Guess I'll put off my homework till tomorrow. Uh... after juggling club.