Sophomore Year 2001 – 2002

Friday, 25 April 2003

this year was my sec­ond best in col­lege, most­ly due to be­ing on the fenc­ing team, which let me ex­pel my — ex­cess — en­ergies. i al­so de­clared my ma­jors, Anthropology and Film & Television, and got firm­ly in­to the swing of my class­es. First se­mes­ter I got a pity D in my Classical Greek 103 class most­ly be­cause I was one of three un­der­grad­u­ates in a class of grad­u­ate the­ol­o­gy stu­dents, thus the pro­fes­sor struc­tured the class to­ward them and did not re­al­ize it un­til it was too late for my­self and an­oth­er un­der­grad. The third un­der­grad had tak­en Greek in High School and was the best in class at trans­lat­ing the Iliad.

I took an ex­is­ten­tial­ist phi­los­o­phy class, and re­al­ly got in­to that for awhile. I saw my­self as an ex­is­ten­tial­ist of the Albert Camus school, ex­cept in­stead of be­ing au­to­mat­ic in my life of ab­sur­di­ty, i laughed along with it.Thus, when the cam­pus sprin­klers would turn on and spray me, i could do noth­ing more than shake a rue­ful head. some things (the sprin­klers for in­stance) nev­er change.

i still lived in sec­tion 4B, and it was great to have a group of fresh­men in the sec­tion. We told them to do things and they did them. hehe. I al­so made a good friend out of Jeremy May, a new guy in 4B but a se­nior, who lived at the end of the hall. Through, him I al­so be­came friends with Steve Luke who spent in­or­di­nate amounts of time in my room play­ing Playstation (46 hours in one week that we kept track of).

Rooming with Mike was pret­ty darn good, apart from his taste in mu­sic which i thought rather taste­less. Our room was the com­mon room for much of the sec­tion and it would not sur­prise ei­ther of us to come back from class­es and find some­one else in the room do­ing some­thing (usu­al­ly steve).

the foot­ball sea­son was much bet­ter than the pre­vi­ous year, we were 9 – 2 and went to the Fiesta Bowl, a de­ba­cle where we were beat­en to death by Beavers from Oregon State. On the fenc­ing end of my sports life, i was work­ing my tail off, com­ing in ear­ly and do­ing drills, beg­ging for lessons, etc. I be­gan to im­prove slow­ly, and my big break came when my cap­tain Jan had to be in Cuba for a fenc­ing tour­na­ment the same week­end of one of our tour­neys at Northwestern. Thus, I got to trav­el, I did rel­a­tive­ly well for my first col­le­giate fenc­ing ex­pe­ri­ence and by the end of the year I had man­aged to win enough bouts to mono­gram, a feat I was told was im­pres­sive for first year walkons. (PUFF PUFF EGO PUFF PUFF)

my love life sucked, but i al­so wasn’t try­ing that hard. I was sex­iled for a 17 hour stretch one evening/​night/​morning by my room­mate who let his girl­friend “ac­ci­den­tal­ly” sleep past vis­it­ing hours and then told her she would have to spend the night. I spent the night on a couch in the sec­tion lounge. I then wrote about this in Harlem’s Hitlist, the vul­gar sec­tion newslet­ter i wrote for the sec­tion in place of the in­cred­i­bly spo­radic ‘Roos News. This newslet­ter, quite harm­less re­al­ly, picked on par­tic­u­lar peo­ple in the sec­tion each week, but the per­son picked on was al­ways in good hu­mor about it. ex­cept the RA, he took it up­on him­self, and al­so the rec­tor, who hap­pened to read my most of­fen­sive ver­sion to tell me to cease and de­sist, i in­stead took it un­der­ground and dis­trib­ut­ed it via email. i can­not be stopped.

I fi­nal­ly man­aged to get in­to the in­tro­duc­to­ry film course, sec­ond se­mes­ter of my sopho­more year, af­ter jump­ing through flam­ing hoops and wad­ing through pi­ran­ha in­fest­ed wa­ters. i had de­clared as a ma­jor yet they (the de­part­ment) still would not give me a spot. I even­tu­al­ly got a spot through the gen­er­al reg­is­tra­tion pe­ri­od, but be­cause of the Film department’s ex­treme help­ful­ness, I was two se­mes­ters be­hind and there­fore I was nev­er able to take Advanced Film Production or Pro Video Production.

Thus en­de­th the year of the half-wise.