Are You Off Somewhere Reciting Incantations?

I'm taking a class about revolutions in Russia and China. Our first section of the semester is entirely focused on Russia, where we have had the joy of hearing parts of Russia compared to Jennifer Lopez, premature ejaculation, and the MBTA 'B' Green Line. The class is highly entertaining. Imagine Tobia Funke. Ok, now take away his awkwardness and replace it with a sort of charisma. Throw a thick Boston accent on and you have my professor.

Another class I have the pleasure of taking part in is the History of Western Ethics. We are learning about basic philosophy (or, as one girl noted, the Greek Gods. EDIT: We are learning nothing about the Greek Gods.) and so we have just finished Aristophanes and Plato. Next week we start Aristotle. An entertaining class, even if my professor seems a bit timid. I've learned the importance of a "Socratic fuck you," so I wouldn't say my time is being wasted. 

Natural Sciences anybody? Another great class with a very enjoyable professor. He treats us like high-schoolers, although insulting, it isn't too bad. It's nice to have a class move at a slower pace. He likes to remind us that magic doesn't exist and that we evolved independently of some supreme being. 

Last, but certainly not least, is my Business class. It's hell. It isn't that it is too difficult, it is just very much time consuming. I understand that I don't have it as bad as Ethiopian children, but they don't have to take a 6-credit business course do they? Of course not, they can't read. Lucky for them. 

That roughly describes my day to day at BU. It isn't much, but I find myself enjoying the classes more this year than last year. It's nice to actually want to go to class sometimes. Stalin, by the way, was a cruel bastard.

Sunlight Over Me No Matter What I Do

After a year sabbatical from my other blog, I feel it is now time to start again. My year away has been tumultuous to say the least. But it came and it went as most years often do and for that I am happy. 

As I currently look out of the 9th floor of my dormitory in Boston, I can see the hustle and bustle that is Commonwealth Ave and Beacon St. I often reflect of how happy I am to be here, for I have craved to be part of a city. The cool weather is finally settling in, and the Citgo light shines like a northern star, engulfing the room in a light that comforts me in knowing I am in my home away from home. Or perhaps, now that I spend most of my year here, this is my home. 

Regardless, my fortunes have changed. This year has brought untold amounts of joy and happiness, so much so that I often have trouble putting it into words. I am living better, healthier, and almost with a sense of purpose (I say almost because, let's face it, I am only a sophomore in college. Am I supposed to have a purpose other than "experimenting" with the world around me?)

I'm excited, to say the least.