First Day of School

Whenever anyone says "first day of school," I instantly think of this clip from Finding Nemo. Unfortunately, I did not jump out of bed with such eagerness to attend my classes; rather, I was greeted this morning by the fire alarm over an hour before my actual alarm was set to go off. Not the most perfect of beginnings, but I decided that the day could only get better from there. Which it did!

My schedule this semester is pretty nice. And by "pretty nice," I mean incredibly perfect. I'm taking my third (and FINAL -- thank goodness!) semester of Spanish to fulfill my foreign language requirement, and I'm taking Chemistry to finish up my natural science requirement (keep your fingers crossed that chemistry goes over better than ecology did...). Spanish meets three days a week, as opposed to the past two semesters where I had it every single day, which makes my schedule look better already. I have two graphic design classes: Typography and Digital Imaging, both of which I'm already obsessed with and cannot wait to take.

My Spanish class is located in the building closest to my dorm -- a two and a half minute walk, roughly :) Instead of being a typical Duke student and arriving to class thirty minutes ahead of time, I decided to be a slacker/rebel and show up only fifteen minutes early. Don't judge me. My Spanish buddy, Kishan, was already there. Unfortunately, so was 90% of the class. Since there were no available seats near him, I opted for the closest empty chair, behind a guy that I quickly identified as a freshman (who else takes serious notes on the first day of Chem lecture? Who even goes to Chem lecture...?)

Toward the end of the class, we were paired up and asked to interview our partner so we could introduce him/her to the class. I ended up with said freshman, who went by Bryn. After exchanging names, the next question on the list read, "De donde eres?" (Where are you from?) From there, the conversation went like this (keep in mind that we were actually talking in Spanish, which only complicated everything):

Me: I'm from Winston-Salem, North Carolina.
Bryn: How do you spell that?
Me: (You go to Duke?) Um, W...i...n...

I'm so NOT kidding. He figured it out on his own from there, but seriously? Winston-Salem?

Me: What about you? Where are you from?
Bryn: *something that sounded like* Londros.
Me: Where? Bryn: Londros.
Me: Londros? Bryn: Yeah, Londros.
Me: I have no idea what you're saying.
Bryn: You know...London...
Me: Ohhh, FOR REAL!? SO cool. That would explain why you'd never heard of Winston-Salem...

From there, I probably proceeded to make a complete fool of myself. I go to a incredibly international university, and personally know/have lived with students from all over the world (Bangladesh, Pakistan, India, China, Philippines, Brazil, New Zealand, etc), but still. Everyone knows that British accents are the best, and since class ended right then, our conversation could shift to English & I simply died. I will never again arrive to class thirty minutes early.