House Calls

After spending 18 hours at Heartland* Thursday night/Friday morning, I came back to my room to find my phone light blinking. It seems that Professor P. Walshe (no one seems to know what his first name is) had left me a personal message letting me know that our classroom has been changed to Brownson. Great. My Tuesday/Thursday morning walk (and by morning, I mean 12:15pm) just turned from an easy 8-minute walk to Debartolo to a long, I-don't-know-how-long-it-takes-to-walk-to-Brownson-since-I-don't-walk-there-on-a-regular-basis-or-ever walk. I saved it just to listen to his British (South African?) accent. What can I say, I'm a sucker for those accents.

In other news, time seems to be passing quickly which means my decision of what I'm doing next year is looming nearer. It doesn't help, though, that I don't hear from most law schools until April, and the same for the teaching programs I'm applying to. (Unless you're Booter, who seems to be certain that I will get into PLACE and be living in Los Angeles next year). Ah well, worst comes to worse, I'll be in Houston.

Happy Birthday to Katie J! We had a party in Erin's room and busted out the Cuarenta y Tres, which I grew oh so fond of in Spain. Seeing as the band dance is coming up on Saturday, we were reminiscing of dances of yore, and Dave getting locked in the basement of Dorm Marion, which turned into Martin Luther King in the keg. And Squeaks and I were the only ones that laughed. Oh dear, I'm getting old.

*PS - No, I was not at Heartland for 18 hours, but my away message made it seem as it were so. I actually went from Heartland to Castle Point, to lunch at La Esperanza, and back to Castle Point before I returned to see that people did in fact think I was at Heartland for Thursday night and the majority of Friday.