Double Check

Day 7: For the 7th time in a row, the morning was preambled by yet another weather related scandal. The roads were exceptionally lousy with fog. As I neared campus, the dense fog obscured absolutely everything, rendering me singular frightened wanderer adrift in a sea of brutal and unforgiving whiteness.

...not entirely unlike my first day of third grade.

Just before I pulled into the garage, I saw a set of twins, which was unusual enough by itself. Add to that, they were dressed alike - same hat, same jacket, same pants, same sneakers, same backpack - and they were walking in sync. One twin looked over his shoulder at me and gave me a strange look. The other twin echoed the move only moments later.

Weird. [redrum!]

I parked and made my way to the Student Union.

I sat down with a cup of coffee and a muffin and tried to come down. In my first class, I would most certainly have to face the professor I had flipped off the day before, and I had to prepare. The scene of me flipping him off played over and over in my mind, each time more exaggerated, more visceral, more obscene. I gobbled the muffin  and absentmindedly wiped my hands on my jeans.

"Maybe he wouldn't recognize me," I thought. "Maybe it wasn't him."

And then I saw him again in slow motion instant replay, his great glistening eyes wet and terminally apologetic, his hands gripping the steering wheel with the full passion of a fervent prayer. I saw myself delivering what may likely have been the most distinct and purposeful obscene gesture of my entire life, my finger flipping erect, rigid with hatred and malicious intent. Every bird I had flipped prior were instantly rendered tepid and irrelevant. It was as if a lifetime's worth of searching for the perfect expression of unmitigated displeasure took root and spontaneously sprang to being on my right hand.

There was no way he wouldn't recognize me. There was no way out of it. I would just have to accept my fate.

I slugged down my coffee, collected my things, and headed to class early, hoping that maybe I could catch the professor before class and apologize. I walked into the lecture hall and took a seat right up front. "No sense trying to dodge this bullet," I reasoned. "No sense putting off the inevitable." I gritted my teeth and busied myself with my tablet, waiting for him to walk in.

Student began to trickle in followed soon after by the TAs. I craned my neck toward the door, my tablet forgotten. He walked in with a great big smile on his face, his arms full of papers. He had traded in his smart button down long sleeved shirt for a decidedly casual (and much beloved from the look of it) polo shirt. I stood and began walking towards him but wasn't nearly fast enough. The TAs descended like seagulls and, in an instant, he was surrounded. I stood at a distance for a moment before giving up hope and sitting down.

Now things would be awkward. Now, when he saw me, there'd be no preceding explanation, just the raw, brutal, naked truth. I shuddered in anticipation.

Class began in earnest and I started sweating. For the first 30 minutes, he kept to one side of the lecture hall, never making eye contact. I raised my hand to answer a question, he scanned the room for a response, stopping just before getting to me, and continued, answering his own question. I swore under my breath.

And then something awesome happened.

We were discussing collective goods and he was using 195 as a reference. "Take 195," he said. "You didn't build... wait... I should... probably find a better way to phrase that."

He hadn't meant it as a joke but I laughed. I couldn't help it. And, miracle of miracles, he laughed with me.

For a few seconds, it was just he and I, laughing. The others either didn't get the joke or didn't find it funny. Either way, it gave us just enough time to have a moment. When he finally made eye contact, he was grinning ear to ear. I smiled back. I couldn't help it.

Later in the lecture while discussing the Prisoner's Dilemma  he crossed over to and lingered on my side of the lecture hall. "It's better to rat out your friend than stay silent," he said. "But if, somehow, the two of you can agree to be silent, you both win. Now that's so rare, it's foolish to even think of wishing for it. But, who knows? If you're willing to take that chance, maybe you'll get lucky."

He made eye contact. It was only for a moment, but it was long enough for something like forgiveness to pass between us. I think.

I hope.

Class ended and I resisted the urge to approach him and confirm anything. As I walked out of the hall, I cast a glance over my shoulder, just to check, just to be sure.

He was smiling. And he looked exactly like I felt:

Relieved.

I moved on and let the door close behind me.

Easy

Day 6: I was up earlier than usual today hoping to get to campus early enough to have breakfast and relax a bit before class. The roads were treacherous with ice and snow and I wasn't on the road 5 minutes before I fully spun out as I applied my brakes coming to a stop at the bottom of a gentle decline. 

I went into the opposing lane and, as I rotated, saw a school bus behind me. By the time I was facing them, the kids were all standing and staring, their paws pressed against the windows, their vicious little hearts straining and pleading for carnage. 

Instead I came to a stop at the bottom of the hill in the opposite lane facing the right way, as if I had stopped in the middle of the road. The school bus crept by cautiously, each child savoring their chance to burn me with an impotent gaze of disapproval. 

I had been traveling at a reasonable rate of speed but took the hint and proceeded down the road, this time with exaggerated caution. 

Near Bolton on U.S. 44, I was cut off. Without even thinking about it, I flipped the offending driver the most righteous and glorious of birds, ornamented by a waterfall of top-shelf profanity. The driver turned to acknowledge me for only a moment, but it was long enough for us to make eye contact. As I exhaled a well deserved, "Well played, Captain C*ckoppotamus!" I simultaneously recognized the other driver.

It was my political science professor. 

He slammed on the gas and sped down the road, occasionally stealing glances in his rear view mirror. I had no choice but to follow. 

And I was sure it was him. He had stared back at me with glistening frightened eyes for only a moment but there was no mistaking the man. As I rode slowly and now even MORE carefully behind him, I specifically remembered him referencing driving down this road to get to school, and how he had trouble navigating it. Great.

Eventually, he continued down 44 toward 195 and I detoured up Hunting Lodge Road. I don't have class with him until tomorrow. And he doesn't know what I drive. I'm hoping he thinks all black people look alike.

I skidded a little (but only a little) turning on to North Eagleville Road. "Easy, Drew," I said to myself, and bargained that I'd get some peanut butter cups if I managed to make it to class alive. 

* * * * *

Someone must have sent out a memo, because my professors all took time to explain their nigh indecipherable syllabuses. I thought I was having trouble because I'm "old". Turns out, their syllabuses were terrible. It was a strange way to have my confidence boosted but I took it. 

The day ended with me sitting in Stats, trying to determine the point of origin of the hanging cloud of Axe Body Spray. A girl next to me started talking. "She's just saying what's in the book, but like... she's explaining it." She paused, chewing on a thumb nail. "We don't even need to be here."

"That's a bad idea, sweetheart," I said, never looked up from my notebook, but she had already stopped taking notes and had turned her attention to Words with Friends on her iPad mini. 

I turned to the student on my right, hooking a thumb at the girl to my left. "She's not going to last long."

The student leaned over and whispered, "I don't think we have to be here. Everything she's going over is in the book."

I shut my mouth, and returned to taking notes. 

Lesson Learned

Day 5: A kid in my Spanish class talked to me today. On purpose. And by that I mean he looked directly at me and spoke in complete sentences just like grown-ups do. 

But he barely spoke Spanish.

Everyone in my Spanish II class took Spanish I last semester. I haven't taken a Spanish class since 2001 one and, as such, expected to be out of practice and far behind my classmates. But the opposite has been true. We're only supposed to speak Spanish in class. But, aside from a word or two here or an awkward sentence there, they all speak English in class.

Today, someone asked me how to say "no" in Spanish. I said, "No." We went back and forth for 2-3 minutes before she understood. But, at least, she learned something today. 

And so did I.

I'm still getting used to finding my classes. The same class can be in different rooms depending on the day. Today, I was lucky and made it just in time for my Poli Sci course. Poli Sci ran late, however, and I found myself running to English. 

...shuffling and huffing, really. But still, on my way.

The elevator was broken, so I hiked up four flights of stairs, my shins and lower back protesting the whole way. I finally get to class, exhausted, and pause to catch my breath just outside the door. Ten seconds later, composed, I walk in to class. And no one was there. 

I checked the time. I was only 2 minutes late. I walked out and checked the number on the door. I double checked my schedule. I was in the right room at the right time. Where was everybody?

I walked back into class and sat down, unsure of what to do. After a few minutes, I decided to email my TA to see what was going on. Turns out she had sent me an email about three hours prior:

"As much as I hate to start a new semester this way, I'm going to have to cancel class for today, January 28."

For the first time, I realized that I was sweating. Lots. I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. Looking around and seeing no one else around, I wiped my hand on my pants. 

Canceled. 

I sat there for a few more minutes, winding down, unsure of what to do. Then, after swearing once, I gathered my stuff and headed toward the exit. Outside, a woman walked by with a large coffee from Dunkin Donuts.

"Donuts," I said to myself, and headed toward the Student Union. 

I Asked for It

Nexus 7 Thievery Update: I double checked with the SU and such - no one turned the device in. I decided to call Google one more time to see if they'd had a change of heart. 

They did.

They're going to disable the stolen device, and release the auth hold on my credit card. What's more, they're giving me a full refund for my original device. And, since the device has since gone down in price since I first purchased it, I'll be able to pick up a 32 GB Nexus 7 (I originally had a 16 GB model) and still have 30 bucks to spare.

For those of you doing the math, I was just paid $30 to upgrade my device. And I'm 100% OK with that.

It all worked out in the end.

Oh, and to the @$$hole who stole my tablet: Enjoy your brick!

A Winner Is Me!
__________________________________________________

Day Four: "C'mon you Husky Dogs!"

Cold. Again. Like last time, only MORE so. Also I forgot my long johns. 

I had flashbacks of marching band rehearsal, tediously moving set to set, saliva freezing solid in my goatee, my lips frozen to the mouthpiece of my trombone. Dr. Mills poised atop the band box, smiling - SMILING, even - seemingly unaffected by the apocalyptic cold, fixing us with a critical eye and crying, "ONE BIG STEP AND YOU'RE BACK!", steam bellowing from his mouth.

I roll-stepped all the way to my first class. And by "all the way" I mean I quit after 20 yards or so. Shin splints.

(One big step!)

My poli-sci course is filled with youngsters, but I've used to that. I've even gotten used to my TAs all being younger than me. But this one, sshe had just graduated. As in graduated in 2012. As in she looked as young if not younger than my classmates. She made a point of mentioning how young she was, supposedly making the point that she could relate to us (them). She had a high, child-like voice and spoke in that jarring, all-over-the-place California accent that I love so much.

I checked out mentally once she started talking about Twitter.

We were soon separated into groups and made to play "getting to know you games". Turns out, there were 3 'Andrew's in my class, and we'd all been randomly assigned to the same group. Interesting.

Without cell phones, these kids aren't much for talking. In fact, when she suggested we find something that everyone in the group has in common, one of the kids whipped out his cell phone. I'm still trying to figure out what he planned to do with it.

Class was quick and painless and, honestly, the kids in my group were ok. Turns out we all play an instrument. And there was just enough of a nerdy frat vibe to remind me of marching band.

I thought of the cold again and shuddered involuntarily.

I briefly considered hanging out on campus for a few hours, maybe having a look around or doing lunch, but quickly abandoned the idea.
I just wanted to be home where it was warm, and everything was familiar.

Monday comes quickly, and I'm already knee-deep in homework. But this is what I wanted, right? This is what I asked for!

...I think.

Oh, homework, how I wish you were beer.

Taken

Day Three: Well damn. Both classes went well, if not extremely fast today. Both teachers sprinted through huge amounts of material and, I'll admit, I struggled to keep up. 

I approached my Spanish professor after class and had a chat with her. She sympathized and explained that things would only speed along while we were reviewing material from the previous semester. She promised (promised!) that things would slow down in a week or so.

I approached my Stats teacher after class and she smiled at me. Just... smiled at me. It was a sly, secretive, knowing sort of smile that flashed with equal parts greeting and warning, the sort of grin with a row of gleaming dangerous teeth behind it, just in case.

I liked her immediately.

By the time I got my chance to speak with her, there was a line of 15 or so students behind me waiting to speak with her as well. I introduced myself and asked something about the homework. My ego got the better of me and I opted to email her later on about the pace of the class. I reasoned that she wasn't at all likely to change anything for me, and would only recommend that I get a tutor should I still be lagging in a few weeks.

I went through the student union on the way to class and got an exciting phone call from a friend announcing that his wife is pregnant. I sat down and talked with him for a few, setting my bags beside me. I had my replacement Nexus in a box in that pile. When I hung up the phone 10 minutes later, the box was gone.

My Nexus 7 had been stolen.

I searched the entire front of the building, every restaurant, every stall, every seat. I eyed every single person in the building.

Nothing.

I left my name and number with the Information Booth. Twice. And then I called Google to see if they could disable the device.

At first, they told me that, since it was a replacement device, it was pre-registered and they serial number specific to the device was on file. They instructed me to call the police and give them the serial number. I agreed and hung up the phone.

In all my frustration, I forgot to ask what the next steps were after calling the police; would they disable my device? Were they likely to recover it or would I be buying a new one? I called back... and the story had changed. Big time.

I was told that they had no info on file regarding my replacement device, and that the previous rep had completely misinformed me. I was told there was nothing the police could do with the serial number. And they would not disable my device.

I want to be clear: They specifically told me that they had the ability to disable the device but would not. They specifically told me that they would be aware when the device was activated, regardless of what email address the user chose to register it with, but that they would do nothing. When I asked "Why not?" I was put on hold.

After being on hold for 10 minutes, I was offered a refund.

???

They were willing to give me a full refund on my original device and take the loss on my stolen one, leaving me financially whole but without a tablet. I asked how that made any sense when they could easily find the device and call the police. "It's our policy," he said.

I hung up and called the police.

I showed up to the police station grumpy and steaming. The officer shook my hand and had me walk him through what happened. He was surprisingly well versed on mobile technology (incl. tablets) and we spent a good bit of time talking about security and how they might find it.

"Someone on campus has it", he said. "If they attempt to use it, we can find it using that serial number... provided Google cooperates. Chances are, they're willing to give you your money back because it's much easier than chasing down the tablet."

"But I don't want the money. I want my tablet."

"I know, buddy."

I finished filing the report, we shook hands one last time, and I left.

Chances are, I'll never see my tablet again. What's more, I still have to send back my broken tablet, and will only be getting money back - money that I have absolutely no interest in.

*grumble*

Hey! UConn Theif! Return my @#$% device!

...or be destroyed.

Kids

Day Two: Things started off a little rough. 

There was an accident on the way to school, so I hopped off the highway and took the back roads - back roads which were under construction. I navigated the detours (plural) and managed to hop back on the highway just ahead of the accident. 

But all the meandering put me about 30 minutes behind. And, by the time I got to campus, the only place free in the parking garage was on the roof.

On the brutally, miserably, mercilessly cold roof.

I ran down five flights of stairs (Ah! Ah! Ah!), and ran to class chugging lung-fulls of bitter icy air. I got in just in time for class, but too late to get a seat. No matter. I stood in the back and tried not to breathe too hard.

The professor seemed a decent man, the class was right in my wheelhouse, and most of the kids in the class shared my major.

They didn't, however, share my attention span.

For the first 30 minutes or so, they checked their cell phones every few minutes like they were late for appointments, and texted. After 30 minutes, they shifted in their seats, craning their necking toward the doors. Some of them starting to put their jackets on. Class wouldn't be over for 20 minutes.

When it was over (FINALLY, for some), the doors exploded outward and I made my way out into the cold.

The awful nasty terrible soul-stealing cold.

In my next class, we played one of those awkward ice breaker "getting to know you" games. We paired up, asked questions, and later introduced one another to rest of the class. Most intros went something like this:

"This is (insert name) from (insert hometown). S/he's a[n] (insert discipline) major and likes (insert hobby)."

I introduced my partner likewise. My partner, however, introduced me in a much different way:

"This is Drew and he's from Manchester but he was in Boston once... for like... a while. And he hasn't been to school in like twelve years now and he's really nervous about being back in school after such a long time and he doesn't get any of us kids or whippersnappers or whatever. Oh and he plays... trombone?"

There was a long pause... and then...

"I don't know if he has any kids."

The TA stared at her syllabus and tried not to laugh.

Day One: Cold

Q: Hey, Drew! How was your first day of classes?

A: Cold. Extremely cold. Super very extremely cold! Even though I'd been outside, I was not anticipating the walks between classes being so... COLD! It was nice to warm up during classes, but, each time I stepped outside, the wind sapped every bit of warmth from me within minutes. 

I underestimated the distance between classes. And by that I mean I remembered the distance being much shorter. And by that I mean maybe I'm a little out of shape. And by that I mean I've learned a valuable lesson for planning classes next semester.

Speaking of classes, today I had Spanish II and Statistics. In both cases, the class was dramatically different than I expected. Nearly everything is online now, and, had you told me about before today, I would have said, "Awesome! It's about time!" In practice, it's clumsy and needlessly complicated. If I want to get my stats homework done, I have to visit three different websites. Spanish homework requires two. Moreover, while you can find some very useful info on one of the many (many) non-class specific hubs, it's tough to find very simple information quickly; where is my class? what's my schedule? I'm sure I'll get used to it. For now, though, it's a tangled mess.

Also everything is expensive. Everything. I laughed out loud when I heard how much a parking pass for the garage would cost. I blinked hard when I saw how much my books were. Even my Vitamin Water was pricey.

Also everyone is young and beautiful. I was repeatedly made aware of how much older I was than nearly everyone else; The woman (girl) who took my photo for my student ID kept calling me "sir" and paused with a look of disbelief when she found out I was an undergrad. I was "sir" again when waiting in line to use the rest room, and once more when buying my Vitamin Water. A woman (girl) in my stats class openly stared at me with her mouth hanging open a little. She was sitting right next to me. I said hello and introduced myself. She squeaked out a name and busied herself with her smartphone.

And that's when I noticed that nearly everyone was buried in their smartphone, grumbling and giggling secretly to themselves. It was a very strange feeling being in a room filled with people, nearly none of them speaking to one another. The professor had to straight up ask us to introduce ourselves to the person next to us. Even in my much smaller sized Spanish class, no one talked with one another.

Strange. Very strange and very disconcerting.

As far at the course content, I'm in good shape. Sure, I'll have to learn to navigate all of this "newness" but, once I figure that out, I expect I'll do fine grade-wise.

Tomorrow, I'm starting the day with coffee. It'll keep me warm, and maybe make it a little easier getting from class to class. For now, I'm going to take an hour or two and figure out all of this... new... stuff.

Thanks for all the well wishes and such. The support is very much appreciated.

More to come as more comes, gang.

Two Weeks

Q: Hey, Drew! When do classes start?

A: 

Do I Dare Disturb the Universe?

And indeed there will be time 
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?” 
Time to turn back and descend the stair, 
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair— 
(They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”) 
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin, 
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin— 
(They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”) 
Do I dare 
Disturb the universe? 
In a minute there is time 
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

-- The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock (excerpt), T. S. Eliot