The Hedonists are in town; more specifically, they're next door.

The Hedonists are the members of a local campus organization called Y.U.A.I, a Chinese acronym apparently, and something I can't pronounce, so they will remain simply The Hedonists, and Y.U.A.I, as well as it's children organizations (like F.L.O.P, or Films Lacking Ordinary Perspective, and the equally interesting organization Church and State, which basically just buys them drinks) will be simply and forever The Hedonist Club.

They really are a great group; incredibly dysfunctional and twisted but with excellent taste in movies and entertainment; I try to attend most of their activities without actually helping to plan them, the social leech that I am. It would be the perfect organization to join, but they're really insular, and, as I said, twisted and dysfunctional, and I really don't want to join in their joyous codependent frenzy at the moment. Later perhaps.

But The Hedonists, though friendly, wait for no one, and as such they are currently having a raucous shindig, which would be fine with me if only they'd do it somewhere other than next door. They do this once every week, prettymuch, and I have to stay up until they're party is over, because I can't go to sleep with year-old punk music blasting next door.

In any case, today was my first day of classes. Great heathen gads, what a day.

Please Dan, tell us about your day.

Well, I got up to move The Deathtrap at 7:30, because as of 7:00 this morning it was illegal for students to park in the teacher's lot by Colman… hmm, Blogger may go down in a few seconds. Crimeny. If it does, I'll add more tomorrow, I guess.

As I was saying, I had to move the van, so I parked it on the street and took a chance on the meter, choosing not pay because I'd be back in an hour or two and it was early and cold. Then, because the office was for some reason closed until 9 am, I went to my first class. Calculus II.

The Ghanan was there, oddly enough, and she's really, really, really nice. Like Meghan Rahn, but with enough of a language barrier to make a conversation with me seem profoundly interesting, so seeing her is always a treat. This is probably the only class I'll ever have with her, seeing as she's a Science major and I'm a Humanities guy.

There were some assorted extras there as well, people I'd interacted with from time to time, but, well, I don't really like any of them, with the exception of the guy from my German class. The professor walked in, and he had Mr. Blong's enthusiasm without my former math teacher's lack of restraint. I had to stay silent when he asked what a derivative was (I'd spoken seconds earlier, and some taboos just make sense) but I wanted to yell "A Limit!"

I'm just thankful that he didn't say "The limit of the sum is…", one of Blong's staples, or I would have screamed "THE SUM OF THE LIMITS!" I wouldn't have been able to contain myself, so many times did Blong lay that half sentence before our class. I have one problem due Wednesday, and a quiz, so tomorrow I'll look at the problem, which is sure to be very complicated at the pace this class is set to go. Then again, it's review.

There are two kids in our class with '04 Letter Jackets, and judging from their smooth visages, these kids are too young to shave, placed in the class only to intimidate us. Then again (once again then again) I probably intimidated the wunderkinder, well, probably not, but still, I bet some of the other college people did.

I had to go immediately to my next class, without socialization, because it started five minutes after my first class ended, and I know that in my condition (one of those out of shape conditions) it takes me a while to get from Briggs to Main Hall.

Qur'an, they call it, and I still get the disconcerting feeling that I'm being trendy, especially remembering the all-too-full class. Her biggest in years, which worries me. Still, I enrolled in the class before Islam was popular (from an American pop-culture standpoint -Buddhism is out! Islam is in!), and after seeing everyone else getting enrollment sheets signed after class I feel like a trendsetter. Well, not like the suicide bombers, I guess they were the trendsetters on this one, yet still…

I'm a sophomore now, too, which is cool; I had to tell Cueney I was a Freshman. Thanks APs. I really don't know anyone in the class; there was this one girl from my German class but I guess she decided that since she's a Senior she doesn't need to notice Freshman; she acts above us lower classmen at times.

There is a lot of reading for that class, which should weed out the twenty-some people we crammed into the dozen-person-occupancy room. Five books, including most of the Qur'an, but once I'm done I can lord my knowledge over others. Well, not really, but I'll understand the workings of a religion pretty well, one I knew little of beforehand, and that'll be really helpful.

I went to the office after class and got a parking spot in the local garage for $25, and by the time I was done, and had found the $3 parking ticket on my car, and had fed the meter enough for two hours, I was off to my last class.

Ah, Freshman Studies. More people I know are in that class, including my old friend Dungeon Master, which is nice. This one guy, The Diplomat (a nickname I vaguely remember seeing somewhere else, though I doubt I'd've used it) seemed oddly personal during the introduction part of class (which was prettymuch all there was left, after our Professor had spoken). I get this odd feeling that I've met him before, but he didn't seem to know me.

Mabye it was deja vu or whatever. I don't have Catch-22 handy to check my vus, so who knows.

Anyways, the professor was an Economist. If someone would have described him to me, I would have thought s/he was exaggerating, but he really does seem like a ultra-proto-stereotypical Economist or mathematician. There are rules, and they will be followed. It's not that he's oppressive, it's that he thinks that the rules of writing and the rules he writes down have the force of Supply and Demand. I'll give him more time, but I think he may have a problem with creativity, if it involves departure from protocol.

Tomorrow I have off, which gives me a chance ot catch up/get ahead, after all this sleep I'm losing.

I'm about to go to sleep, but I feel bad about a few things, you see. Firstly, I snubbed The Insurrectionist the other day, when he came to my room looking for conversation but I insisted on playing computer games instead of making an effort; I didn't (for whatever reason) think that he may have been offended, but it was rude of me, however strong the pull of Counterstrike was after all those weeks without it.

Likewise, Jenna, no one thinks you're ugly. And my comment about people at the E not dating each other was a lame way to answer the question of why E people were hitting on you; it's not like none of them hadn't met you before, you're at the E quite often, so my fresh-meat-style theory has admittedly little weight. It was just the best I could pull out of… thin air, and I do love my little theories. But seeing as neither Graham nor I would classify you as 'E people', there must be some difference between you and the other regulars, and the guys may be picking up on that.

Lastly, I must note, if only to consternate good old Graham, that smoking pot it bad. It's my opinion, not a judgment on pot smokers everywhere, so anyone is free to disagree -I'm not even going to bother supporting it here, because my reasons are subjective and personal (that's right, subjective AND personal), and I don't want to argue, but nevertheless, I think someone has to stand up for the squares here.

It's not like the government is portraying our beliefs/opinions/preferences in the most flattering light, and I don't think anyone else is going to bother to disagree with you on this.

Ah, there's nothing like late-night penance, except for Strawberry-Rhubarb pie, which is prettymuch the same thing.