I’m still young enough that I’ve spent the majority of my years enrolled in school: the usual K-12 and four years of college (lots of napping, interspersed with a few classes). But I haven’t been a student for four years, and I realized last night that’s enough time for sitting in a classroom to seem weird. (Well, not sitting in a classroom per se; I write about education for a living, so sitting in a classroom is something I still do from time to time. I mean as a student.)

I started taking Spanish at SMU last night with my friend Juliet, and we got to sit at those little desks with the little teardrop-shaped desktop and watch a teacher write things on a chalkboard while we furiously took notes. It was like a time warp — I felt like passing notes and doodling “Pink Floyd!” on my notebook. (A big junior high activity of mine.) I now know that “h” is silent in Spanish if it’s not part of “ch,” “v” and “b” sound too close for comfort, and that “romantico” sounds really cool. I’m sure I’ll be fluent in a week or two.

Bonus link: a highly perceptive Onion headline: Downtown McDonald’s Perpetually A Hairsbreadth From Complete Anarchy.

24 October 2001

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