Wanna go steady?

I finished the bulk of my crushing school load!!! Oh yeah!! I now resemble a washed up, overstressed, ball of exhaustion. And I'm not talking about the book I have to read and write a paper on by Tuesday right now...too stressful. Thinking happy thoughts.



As I was walking through school yesterday, I realized that in many ways, I felt like I was in high school. This particular building I'm in this semester as I have mentioned is kind of an example of all things you should not do when designing and building a college building. Think 60's mental hospital/correctional institution/government building. While navigating the halls yesterday, I was dodging copious numbers of 18 -20 year olds who were bouncing around, screaming, pushing...you know, having fun. I felt like I was a misfit in some sort of dysfunctional John Hughes movie. I'm not to the point where I'm old, hunched over, and pointing at "those damn kids" yet, but give it 10 years and that would probably be the case. Good thing I'll graduate this December.



I arrived early at History class, only to be greeted by my teacher, who was eating lunch. To be specific, he had a Mediterranean plate. Hummus, tabbouleh, feta, etc. Good but stinky. While chatting with him, I was treated to a dancing piece of tabbouleh that was stuck in the corner of his lip. I wasn't sure of the ettiquette there, so I didn't do anything.



I should add at this point that I really, really like the professor. I found out he isn't much older than I am, (only 6 years) and he seems to appreciate having a student that actually remembers some of the history he teaches. And, someone who laughs at his dumb jokes. He is actually funny.



So, class starts. Over the course of the class, I am asked by a couple of people if I can give them notes from missed classes. No big deal. I get email addresses, and promise to send them out this weekend. After class, I linger and chat with the professor along with this other student who is in his early 30s. This is a common occurence. There is a nice dynamic between us. We agree that after the semester, the three of us are totally going downtown for cocktails. (Note: this is another advantage of being an older student that gets along with your professor- free drinks!)



We (the other student and I) leave class. I tell him I'll email him the notes this weekend. He puts his arm around my shoulders, rubs them and tells me that I should just bring them over some night to his place, and we can just hang out. Enter the John Hughes movie. Maybe Sixteen Candles. Except he isn't Jake Ryan, and I am certainly no Molly Ringwald.

Oh, and one other small detail? I'M MARRIED.

I smiled and said, "I'll just email them to you. Have a good weekend!"

My overall reaction? Surprised, and flattered. Not going to follow up on the invitation.

The best part? He thought I was 29.

School rocks.