Skule.

Now that I've had my little semi-philosophical rant (thanks, Biku, this blog really is useful - both cathartic and fun) I'll mention a few things about the first day of school. Just popped in on the first Shakespeare class (not my section though, which is why I felt safe to pop back out again) to find out that I have to buy all the textbooks of +3 expensiveness. I mean, it's not as bad as Wendy and her $100 economics textbooks, but still. I brough a two-foot wide section of my father's books back with me to Kingston just for this Shakespeare course, only to find I can't use any of them. Blarg.

That aside, it's a beautiful day, my brain is tingling in anticipation of all the reading I need to do ("The Victorians were notorious for writing very long, serial novels ..." just what I don't want to hear first thing Monday morning in my Victorian Lit seminar course.) and my housemates and I actually had our first meal together last night. Potato Wedges, Macaroni&Tuna salad, and normal salad. Simple to me, but they were v. v. grateful, which makes any cook happy.

I like skule. I keep thinking I'll wake up one day and find I'm like everyone else around me, dreading having to do work and not liking either my profs or my classes, but it hasn't happened yet. And I'm glad. In my little 'sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows' world, it only makes sense that I should like and enjoy that which I have to do whether I like it or not. I need to cook; I like cooking. I need to go to classes; I like classes.

[just as a personal note to Biku ... I always remember that misheard Due South quote which led to you leaving me a fone message on the first day when I was at Huron "Remember, we both come from the ancient Norsemen - and you 'can't keep norsemen in a cage'." Heehee.]

Now I'm off to buy lots of paper and ink products, and sit in a ginourmous first year Canadian History course.