I had my first class today here at Cornish. It was at 1pm in room 605 of the main art building. I arrived at noon so I could eat lunch in the cafe downstairs and then make my way up to class early. When I got to the hallway outside the room, a few students told me that the door was locked. More students began to gather in the hallway outside. Finally at 1:02, the teacher showed up and opened the door for us. We all found seats and the teacher took roll. My name was not on his list. I sat and listened to his introduction for awhile, not wanting to interrupt. I quietly checked my schedule that said Tuesday, 1pm foundation art with Kristen Ramirez. This old man did not look like a Kristen. Or a Ramirez. Fifteen minutes later I decided I was definitely not in room 605. It turned out I was in room 607; the classroom for design students. When I finally made it to room 605, I was 20 minutes late.
The class was interesting for the most part. I say for the most part because it was four hours long. After the third hour, I stopped caring about art. I was exhausted. I felt old. I am eight years older than most of the people in my class. I have decided that eight years is a lot. After class, I went back down to the cafe to eat dinner. I ate a whole pizza by myself. I deserved it. Then I walked back over to my dorm to lay down. The dorm I am in is an old motel. It is pretty nice as far as dorms go, but I can tell it was a crappy motel. We have magnetized key cards that allow us to enter the dorm buildings and different ones that open the doors to our rooms. The magnets are very sensitive and when I carry both of my cards next to each other, they become demagnetized and stop working. Then I have to go to the main dorm building so they can reprogram them. This has already happened to me twice and I just moved in.
I have two classes tomorrow. They are each four hours long. The first one is at 8 am. I don’t know why I tell people I am an artist. I think I would much rather be a princess.