Wilson exclaimed, "Sweet!" at a pitch usually reserved for women and eunuchs. I looked over, worried. My roommate is apparently excited because he found the British library database of bookbindings. This is strangely reminiscient of the events of two days ago.
This guy scares me. I'm going to go finish The Lore of Large Numbers.
I had a roaring good time this evening. I believe I have mentioned the East Texas Burger Company in Mineola, TX before. Well, I finally convinced some good friends to come along and enjoy the fine home-grown Texas cuisine. I would suggest it as a Sunday night meal possibility, but it is an hour away and closes at 3 on Sundays, anyway.
By the way, I am a great fan of college radio stations. Tonight, 88.7 (out of Kilgore College) was playing Riverwalk, Live from the Landing, a wonderful jazz program that provided us with much entertainment on the way to and from Mineola.
Both times I've stopped at the East Texas Burger Company, I have been sure to get one of the "World Famous" hambugers. The first time I had the "fries," which barely qualified as food, but the second time, on the recommendation of my good friend Tyler (from Sherman), I grabbed the onion rings. Some of the best Onion Rings ever. As we approached downtown, I began a Moore-esque rant on the wonders of their burgers and onion rings. It seems that others are not so enthusiastic about either as I am. Clearly. Despite my best efforts, Wilson had to order a chicken-fried steak sandwich, which I'm sure was very good. At least he trusted me about the onion rings. Apparently, neither Randy nor Wheeler enjoy onions, and by extension, onion rings. Randy braved the fries, poor fellow. After having a few of them, he realized that I was right. They're not quite food. Wheeler decided to avoid them altogether by taking the old standby: potato chips.
The food certainly was good (as always), but this evening our table was served by a charming creature named Lena. I think she liked Wilson. He seemed to like her, at least. Clearly, she was interested by his "city-refined" nature. I didn't want to break the poor girl's heart by telling her he was from Smalltown, TX, as well. I'm fairly certain phone numbers were exchanged, but maybe that was just the check.
Sadly, our time of revelry and carousing (you didn't read that) was cut short by the realization that we were scheduled to finish reading Man and Superman this evening at 7:30. At least I had one evening where I didn't have to listen to Moore or Cynic rant and rave about Texans. Granted, East Texas driving is still hazardous to anyone's health, but it felt better knowing that we Texans were making the comments ourselves.
Alas... nay, rejoice! It is play time.
This day is Friday. Friday is the day I wake up in time to take a shower before class so that I can eat breakfast with the crew after class. This morning, I drag myself out of bed at 7:40 (far too early, I tell you), get myself ready and go to class. I walk through the wonderful fall morning weather to Longview Hall and sit down in my seat waiting for class to start. Dr. Anderson tells me it's one of my days for devos. I get up there and give a two-minute devo on working hard and studying and such, and sit myself back down.
See, our midterm is on Monday, so today was supposed to be a review day. Clearly, Dr. Anderson was simply going to let us ask any question we wanted about the material. The only question was about Remote Procedure Calls as compared to Remote Method Invocation. It's a semantic problem. With no questions forthcoming, Dr. Anderson dismissed class. Ten minutes after class started.
What a waste of time.
The Abstract test didn't kill me. It didn't even make me go insane. I was just out of it for a while. Catatonic. How sad. Being crazy and hyper is much more fun than not quite being there. Oh, well.
Strangely enough, it was almost fun. I guess I am going crazy. For some reason, this class is enjoyable. The teacher is among the worst I've ever had, the class in general doesn't understand the material, yet I still have fun doing the work. How insane do I have to be for this to be true? If you come up with an answer, make sure you have a proof to back it up.