You Want Mostly Fluffers and Floaters

I've just been sitting here in the student union for approximately the past half hour, and I think I experienced a slight bit of brain death. I've only seen a handful of familiar faces from last (spring) semester, and this new batch seems just as socially inept as the last, if not more so. The table next to me has finally ended their phone conversation. No, I'm not one of those cell phone nazis, but when you're sitting in a public place, please refrain from having multiple conversation using the speaker function. I don't want to hear the details while setting up your next doctor's appointment, the conversation between you and the administrator from your child's school, or any other white-knuckle exciting possibilities. I also didn't realize that high heels, raggedy shorts, and camouflage shirts are the 'in' thing this season. I guess when you have an unnaturally dark tan you're entitled to wear whatever you want and think that it looks good. There is one guy sitting a couple tables away that has been reading with iPod earbuds in and periodically peering over his book at me. It may be because I'm doing the same thing to everyone else over my monitor. At least I know he's not typing about me. Heh, someone came up the table next to me and asked the lady if he could use her cell phone - apparently they're friends. What's strange is that she told him that it doesn't get a very good signal unless you go stand "over there". Hmmmm, I suspect shenanigans. Maybe I should've told her that a half an hour ago.

Well, it's already partway into the second week of school, and as you can see, I'm cultivating a healthy level of cynicism. Gah! And the speaker phone lady is back at it. I suppose I should've signed up for more classes to give me something to do other than critique random strangers for no reason. This is my last semester, and things have turned out so that I only have to take the minimum amount of credit hours to qualify as full time. So what do I do? Add 5 more hours on top of that. There is a method to the madness, however; considering I'm moving to San Diego, I decided to audit a beginning-level Spanish course. True, it means more hours of class and homework, but learning a bit of Spanish is probably going to come in a bit more handy than German, no matter what Ron Burgundy says.

Well, speaking of German, I should probably spend the next few minutes looking over some vocabulary for my next class. I hate getting there and having to improvise without knowing what the words mean. It earns me too many strange looks. Hasta próximo tiempo, bis nächstes mal.