Well!
I have been here for a little over a month, but I feel like the stray sheep in all those stories trying to find its way home. I am tired, restless, and feel like I don't really care to be here anymore.
I have decided to go back next semester. I'll be going to Southern, so sorry to all my disappointed die-hard Floridian fans that hoped I would be staying home. I don't regret my decision one bit! I miss the days of high school, bumming around my house, and hanging out with my darling Dutchess. Being in America might make those memories not seem as foreign and far away.
School has been going along at a pretty steady pace. My English class is more of a politics class. The theme for most of the semester is on the elections, so we have debates and have to keep up with the going ons of everything back home (sounds suspiciously like American Government with an emphasis on grammar and essay structure). My teacher is hilarious though. He has seriously dry humor, which makes me like him even more. My World Religions teacher is Italian, and the poor woman has such a thick accent I can't help but giggle the entire class period. Her words come out so heavy, like: BOOD-hismuh (the 'h' is pronounced), Hindu-IS-muh, etc. Priceless. My Algebra teacher is a nut. She's Portugese and also has a super strong accent. For some reason she can't say her u's correctly. Her favorite word is "usually" but because of her accent it comes out as "OO-sually". She also says "OO-niun" for union. It took me about ten minutes to figure it out she wasn't saying onions. My French class is taught by a pleasant English woman. She's so friendly and knowledgeable, but doesn't act like she knows it all. I'm sure if she wasn't teaching french she'd be my favorite faculty member.
French was created by a drunk man who couldn't speak properly and was playing Pick A Letter when spelling the words. He slurred all his words together and decided not to follow the spelling of the words in his pronounciation. I for one hate this man and the misery he's put in my life learning this horrid yet sophisticated-sounding language. I was so excited to take this class. As a matter of fact, that was the only class I chose that I didn't have to take. I regret every second that took to make that decision. It's so similar to Spanish yet completely different. I speak a mixture of Spanish, French, and throw in English when I give up.
In other news, Brotherhood and I have had a few run-ins. For a while they thought I was VP, so they attacked me twice. Long story for a later date. I'm thinking of dropping out, simply because it's a waste of my energy and all I do is tense up whenever I see a member of Brotherhood. I'm always waiting for an ambush. We do have little parties and stuff, but I'm sure I can somehow survive without them.
25 October I head out to Barcelona, Spain for my mid-semester vacation. I'm meeting up with my parents, aunt and uncle, and my dad's business partner. I'm excited to have a vacation without worrying how much pounds I'm spending and what I'll tell my parents when I have to ask for more money. Oh the life of a broke, dependent college student.
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