Monday, August 15, 2005

GSU, I like what you've done with the place.

While slowly paddling my way down the misty dream river, my eyes were suddenly jarred open prematurely. With the aid of my trusty alarm clock, I was up and at 'em on my way to the cereal bowl. Today is a school day.

By 8:30 I was in the RAC parking lot, walking up to the highly anticipated bus stop. After seeing two of my buds walking, and not particularily eager for the wait to be crammed onto a bus, I decided to put the experience on hold.

Walking on campus, I am pleased at this year's decor. Along the autumn color scheme, we have several new orange plastic fences lining the enormous piles of dirt and rubble. That library has come along way over the summer as well. The smell of learning is in the air, and I am glad to be in the company of so many peers. My classes seem alright and this year is definately looking up.

My Psychology class is enormous and is taught by two people, a man and a woman, who seem overly focused on achieving "cool professor" status. Going over the rules, they interjected several times that they were not like our other old and boring teachers. When the woman flicked a bird to show an inappropriate signal for "time to go", the intending rise from the students filled the room. To the collective student fascination, the professors gleamed that there would be discussions about sex and drugs. Teachers can be "cool" without putting everything out like that. I thought they were cheap, but the class seems interesting and easy.

Group piano is very neat. We are in a room with 12 pianos. All of the pianos can either play aloud for everyone, or the sound can be channeled through headphones. We will be given keys to the room so that we can practice to our heart's content.

Between classes, I took a visit to my old comp. 1 teacher. We chatted for a while, and then she returned my portfolio. I was a little dissappointed in what I found. The letter A was marked on the front page, but what I found missing is what troubled me. Immediately after I recieved my folder, I sat on nearby steps to look through it. I expected all sorts of red ink that would criticize and mold my work. There was none. I felt neglected.

I ended up riding the bus later on in the day. It was a very unique experience. Southern is an ever-growing establishment and when I see things like the small, young oaks, new buildings, and (most recently) the buses, I can't help but imagine how engrained these things will come to be in the future of GSU, even though they are new to me. Riding the bus, I felt like I was witnessing the dawn of a new era. I know the buses will one day be an integral part of the transportation system of the university, much like at UGA. As for now, the system needs a little time to work things out. My ride (an unnecessary one) from the bookstore to Newton would have been faster on foot because of traffic matters. A fellow rider told me that in the morning, the buses were crammed tight. Things are not yet perfect, but at least for now, the buses are clean.


Blogger Ricardo Grande said...

Seriously, there is no such thing as a cool professor. They are, by definition, the enemy. With their term papers, their terrible office hours, and the vague smell of dork. NERDS! ;)

9:26 PM  
Blogger wes said...

Exactly Ricardo! Here is a man who knows what he's talking about. I only restrained so as not to step on any toes. Between you and me, you never know when they could be creeping around!

11:33 PM  

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