"It's a marathon, not a sprint!"

Class starts in an hour. Here are some things that have happened in the past couple days:

• Yesterday was orientation. It was, for lack of a better word, interesting.
• There are around 25 people in the Public Relations program. Three are guys. All three are straight. SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE. (On a side note, I still haven't found a new gay best friend up here.)
• I'm pretty sure my four years at LSU were simply training for grad school. If I thought LSU was a hardcore drinking school, I think I may have found it's northern match. Where undergrads are enticed to events by free food, the faculty here know the secret to getting grad students involved: FREE ALCOHOL. It's like they're mind readers!
• On that note, every time I told a professor what my schedule was they all got that wide-eyed "better you than me look" (or as I fondly refer to it, the look I give people when they say they're majoring in physics or chemistry). I wanted to ask, "I'm going to be drinking a lot this semester, aren't I?"
• I still don't have an assistantship. I NEED THIS TO CHANGE.
• In lieu of this, I've started carrying my resume with me wherever I go, and I am thrusting it in the face of anyone who mentions the word "assistantship".
• Tangent: Boston high-schoolers are obnoxious, and I can see that sharing a subway with them is going to try my patience.
• I woke up at 4:30 this morning to catch a 6:20 train. I'm exhausted, but extremely ready for class to start. Not so ready, however, for all the reading that's going to come with it.
• I miss: CCs and PJs. There is no equivalent (besides Dunkin Donuts, which is OK, but not really a place I want to kill time/study in) up here.
  
• I drove to the train station with my heater on this morning. Heater. On. In September. THIS IS CRAZY TALK.
• Apparently, marathons are very popular among BU's faculty. I spoke to a handful of professors who run them. All I could think of was the old adage, "It's a marathon, not a sprint" that my friends and I used to tell each other during tailgates or other periods of extended drinking. It was all I could do to bite my tongue and NOT say anything during these conversations except for the occasion smile-and-nod and the well placed "Oh wow!" I think my filter is getting better.

Well, that killed 30 minutes.