A Discrepancy

While watching a movie the other day with my roommates one of them started to fall asleep. He was the only one of us that had not yet seen it, and we probably would not have been watching it in the first place if not for him. Knowing that I probably would have wanted him to wake me up and whispered rather loudly: "Hey, I don't know if I should let you fall asleep or wake you up so you can watch the movie. Do you still want to watch it?" He promptly woke up and presumably remained awake for the remainder of the film.

This got me thinking though: almost every Friday at our school we have a specially guest lecture, debate, presentation or exhortation. We are required to be there to listen and the dean keeps attendance. But the weekly event, named "Disputatio" (Latin for a discussion or debate) by the facailty, has been dubbed "Naputatio" by the student body. Funny? Yes. True? Also yes. By the end of the week, most of the students are running on far too little sleep, and many of them (me included on occasion) fall asleep during these lectures.

It was at this point that I realized a bit of a problem: why are we ok with this? Why are we paying thousands of dollars to be here and listen to wise men and gain their wisdom only to fall asleep when they are trying to teach us. But buy a 20 dollar movie and you will do your best to keep your friends awake for the entire thing so that they won't miss a punchline. There is something very wrong with this picture.

Maybe we should start poking our neighbors in the ribs during lecture...

Rain

It's really raining now. Coming down in steady, even droplets. Not sheets. We never get sheets of rain here in Idaho. Any rain at all in October is a rare occurrence, as we practically live in a desert. This summer was brutal. The crops of wheat and snow peas get all their hydration from the winter snows, which apparently provide enough moisture to keep them growing all year. In fact, I've heard that too much rain around this time of year will ruin them.

Not only is it getting wetter and colder, the days are starting to shorten. Sun doesn't come up as early as it used to a week ago. I know this because I wake up a sunrise... usually. This morning I technically should have gotten up before the sun. I didn't.

School is nearly empty. While on a summer night you might walk through the halls and hear the small "cricket, cricket" of the silence. Now it seems more like a cave. Dark, a little dank, but a solitary shelter from the wet drip outside. A few more animals have decided to huddle in the cave with you... but here, there be dragons. Errrr... I mean finals.

Compared to the beginning of the week, the school is kind of dead. "Kind of," what a pathetic, measly sort of descriptor, wheezing on death's doorstep. I can think of better adjectives, but finals week is drawing near a close and stronger metaphors I cannot think of.

Pulling my headphones off, I breathe in the sudden silence that replaces the raucous punk music that was being intravenously fed into my blood stream. I sigh a little. There are a few squeaking doors, the far off sound of a generator, the whoosh of cars splashing through puddles outside. And of course, the ever-present "clickity, clickity, click" of my fingers on the keys.

Fall Sets Up Shop

So the uncomfortably warm season we all call "Indian Summer" has set to flight at last, and fall proper is now upon us. The rain the past few days helped greatly. Waking up to the pitter-patter of drops on the sidewalk 12 feet below you is always a pleasant way to wake up... except that it rarely helps the getting out of bed portion of the morning, which usually follows waking up.

Some of the more extravagant and vain leaves changed colors early, sometime in early September, but most are still clinging to immortality and refusing to lose their grip on the oaks that line the very crooked streets of Moscow, Idaho. I don't blame them. If my life span were only in the single digits, I'd cling to my last few moments of life a little longer too.

The buses buzz around the small granary town like over-fat bumblebee drones hovering around a bee hive, ferrying people from the outer edges of town into the small, yet quaint downtown.

The downtown is harsh to small businesses though. It's a great spot for hippies and hipsters to chill, grab a cup of coffee, smoke some weed and show off how culturally relevant they are.

Pitter-patter. The rain soaks the rabidly thirsty ground. Pitter-patter. Feet in the puddles.

Even the people that sell weed are having a hard time. The corner shop at 6th and Main just shut down. Its preferred facade was pretending that it was a flower/gift shop. The odd hours gave it away though. I always knew they sold a lot more than your average roses and daisies. But hard times fall on the druggie and the sober alike. Mikey's gyros are more addictive anyway. A hippie can do without drugs as long as he can get his fix of organic Greek food.

There are a lot of twenty-somethings wandering around downtown in robes. If it weren't for the midwest/northwest American feel of the town, you might guess that you were wandering around the set of the latest Harry Potter movie. But it's just the NSA students. No, not National Security Agency, but New Saint Andrews... a name that was not so subtly plagiarized from a college across the pond with the same name.

It would take a lot to explain where New Saint Andrews College came from, where it's going and why it's still around. Suffice to say that they run on the quarter system, having four terms of eight weeks each every year. Hence, now is final exams.

The leaves dry up on the ground as the sun comes out. The warmth, however, doesn't come back. I feel like I'm stepping on Lay's chips every foot I put forward. Now I'm craving salt.

Three exams down, three to go.