edwards block

Well, I am now in my second week of school. In some ways it’s like being back in high school, except for the absence of physical violence, insane faculty and puberty-driven angst. There are more than a few first year students who still haven’t left the high (or even junior high) school mindset behind, though I’m sure they’ll start getting over it once they’ve had their first grade report.

One of the more common annoyances are students who consistently come to class late, who not only interrupt the lecture with their arrival, but some of whom are oblivious enough to make five minutes worth of noise as they get settled. And let’s not forget cell phones – the last time I was in school, these didn’t even exist, except in the shoe of an inept television spy. In fact, we still had a black rotary phone at home when I graduated.

Another thing that irks me is the speed at which some students travel through the halls. Wandering through life in an apathetic stupor seems to be an epidemic only slightly more prevalent than gathering to chat in front of doorways and at the top of flights of stairs.

Oh well. I can imagine what I was like at 17, so perhaps this is just the revenge of the gods.

As expected, I am something of a geriatric, in relative terms. Not only am I older than everyone in all of my classes, I suspect that I am also older than all of my instructors, including my philosophy instructor, who holds a PhD. However, I actually find it all very amusing. While my neighbours have earphones dangling from their collars, Hello Kitty! pencil cases, or designer clothes and hair, and chat about boy bands or muscle cars, I read the Globe and Mail and peer over the rims of my glasses at them curiously. They are not all eighteen, though. My philosophy class has a few old timers that are in their upper 20’s.