Between Classes

I just watched a two hour movie with subtitles, and though I'm not fond of such flicks, this one was okay. It's called The Motorcycle Diaries, and though I feel it lacked substance, I am going to have to come up with something profound to say about it for the movie review (homework) that is required for my Spanish Film and Literature class.

So now I am coming up on the last hour of my three hour break between classes. I craved nachos all through the movie, so immediately afterward I bopped over to the Meijer gas station and grabbed some nachos--drowned them in cheese and chili sauce--and diet cherry cokes. Then I came back to the Middlefork Hall parking lot, mowed down on nachos and watched people come to and fro as I thought about topics ranging from graduation to sex, namely the great sex last night.

But anyway. I made my way over here to Hayes Hall to find a computer so I could track down my schedule. I seem to have forgotten where my next class is and my schedule disappeared from my book bag. There's only four buildings to this campus and bingo!--I'm in the one where my class is. Yay for luck. The bizarre thing is that they've taken out three of the computer labs in this building. I asked the assistant to point me in the direction of the nearest open lab and here I am in the dungeon of Hayes Hall. (Just curious--why is there an assistant upstairs in a cubby hole that used to be surrounded by computer labs, but there's not a soul down here?)

There seems to be so much I've wanted to write about, but I know how I get carried away at the keyboard. I'm aiming to post some more pics from this weekend, too. We took Clayton paddleboating at the park Saturday and yesterday we took him up in his first plane ride at the Fly-In. Last night we also had a softball game at the church, along with a 50's theme cookout/party. The "35 and older" folks challenged the "under 35's" in the softball game. The latter team, which I am still a part of, won. Yay!

The sad thing is, I felt incredibly old. Not the out-of-shape kind of old, but the feeling one gets when being surrounded by kids who are talking about their chemistry class and so-and-so dating. While sitting on the sidelines, a woman on my left and a woman on my right--both of which were closer to my age--were trying to remember cheers other than "Two bits, four bits." I was mortified that I couldn't remember any, either. I mean, I played sports, for crying out loud! I was a cheerleader for a brief stint of history. Why is my memory going already?