July 24, 1997  Thursday

I can’t believe there only one week left in the summer semester.  It has gone by so fast.  The first week was sort of slow, and a little lonely, because the only people I knew were Hiro and Kerri.  It’s great now, because when I walk somewhere on campus several people will say hi.  The nicest person hands-down is Hiro, but now that I think about it, Lisa comes a close second.  Laura is probably the person I would have liked to have known better, while I hang out sometimes with Zak.  Recently we were out sitting on the tennis courts after a game, leaning against the fence.  He sort has a surfer vibe, and kind of looks like the blond kid from Seaquest, while I can never be sure if he’s taken classes here or not.  Anyway, he mentioned on the courts after a game that he thought I was cute.  I was shocked, because that has never happened before, and because, well, I don’t know… he didn’t seem gay, whatever that means.  It was awkward, but I also remember a few days later, my roommate Mark talking to me in our room.  He bluntly told me I needed to make a decision, whether I was going to keep hang around Zak (and Hiro?), because it was going to negatively impact how people saw me.  That was more of a shock, to be honest.  All this might be new to me, but I still know how to treat people like human beings.  I continue to do things with Zak and Hiro.

The classes have been alright.  In English class “going over a book” means watching a movie, I’m afraid.  Yesterday in philosophy, a class I do enjoy, Davenport was exceptionally boring, so Laura and I played a few games of tic-tac-toe and dots in the back.  One thing that is still strange to me is the entering and leaving of students whenever they choose.  A person might come to class on time, but walk out ten minutes later, or a person might show up for the last ten minutes of class.

I guess I’m a true college guy, because I’m broke, and have been for a few days.  There is not one dollar in my wallet.  In the fall I will miss being in Corbin, and the singular taste of this moment.  What won’t I miss?  The vending machine, Prokash’s constant rambling of conspiracy, and the the stench emanating from somewhere in Mark’s and my room comes to mind.