Preparation for Act 1.

The school is so amazingly empty. I know it will get so much noisier once it actually begins tomorrow.

I have carted my paints and general tools to school in my hobo-cart, while gaining many unsolicited weird looks on the Light Rail. I should probably take a photo or two of that sometime as well. Nothing could possibly be stranger than the nearly automated system of rails that buds with mirror-domed security cameras and hoodlums rapping along with their ipods. Except perhaps mug-shots of the trolls who work at the bursar's office. It could kill them to smile, I think.

I should probably warn readers of this that I'm not much of a writer. I can use proper grammar and punctuation, but don't expect me to be able to type fast enough to follow a train of thought. I get a bit jumpy.

And so tomorrow, School starts.
Today I went in to stuff snacks in my locker (shh, against rules) and the rest of my toolboxes. Conveniently, I am located across the hall from Patrick Surgalowski's office. So today while I was loading things up he came into the hall.
I had a convenient all caps reply- "HEY Mr. SURGALOWSKI, IS YOUR BOOKS CLASS ABOUT BOOK-MAKING OR BOOK-READING?" (Yes, I really needed to ask this. There is no description for this class besides "Art Books")
"...Book making. Good to see you back!" His eyes said "I can see you set up camp right outside my office. Good to know I'll be using that handy-dandy fire escape."
I threw in my David Blaine impression to seal the deal. O.O "Thanks!"
"You'll straighten up the rest of these chuckleheads, it'll be great!"
"... do you actually remember me?"
"Ta ta!" he vanished with that puff-of-smoke-trick only tenured professors know.

So it looks like I will indeed be doing 18 units. I hope they have psychiatrists on campus who know what they're doing.