Our final ENGR 195-14 projects were due for presentation today. We presented in seven rounds of five groups. My group, group 23 was up first. I don't really remember about the other groups--group 1 probably presented first. After the initial chaos of last minute organization, things dulled down. Sometime after my presentation, but during the one and half hours left of class, I fell asleep.
It wasn't a deep slumber, but it beat paying attention to people go on about pedestrian safety. But after waking up a few times, I decided to risk moving to a desk for comfort. I wasn't met with any resistance from the staff, but I figure it might still impact my grade. Oh well.
Class ended in nostalgia: a bell rang signaling the end of the final presentation. It reminded me of high school. People flooded out.
The morning's sleet had become the day's rain, and I was still wearing my nice black dress shirt. So I umbrella-ed myself as best I could with my jacket. There was a bus pulling up. Lucky me. I hurried to board.
Once inside, I sat in the back--you know, where the heater is. I shook off my umbrella- jacket. People glared. I opened my bag. The leather gloves I'd found earlier were still there. They fit me too.
I found them on the floor while taking the bus to my second class. They were on the floor. If I hadn't taken them, somebody else would've. And it's not likely that, even if they weren't taken, that the owner would ever see them again--they were nice. I'm sure the bus driver would've taken them if he'd had the chance.
A bunch of children flooded the bus. I was confused. Others were too--except the girlies: they were excited. I scooted to the left to make room.
The bus was full for a long time--longer than the bus ride should've taken, it seemed. But I didn't complain. I saw a kid drawing on the window. Bored, I did the same. It must've been weird for them, seeing a black clad adult drawing with his finger on the bus window--I'm sure their parents told them not to.
People stood up. I couldn't see the exit. Panicked, I stood up to see where we were. I couldn't see where we were. Panicked, I walked to the exit. We were halfway to my stop. I sat down. I felt silly sitting back down. I felt it would be sillier to stand back up. I stayed sitting down.
The bus began to move again until it stopped again and a man--chaperons, probably--said something and walked with the kids out the bus. The bus started moving again.
It was a few more stops until it reached mine. When I got out, the dining court--mess hall--was right there. Being that I skipped lunch to sleep, I was kinda hungry; I went in.
I got my tray. Picked out a fork, a spoon, a knife--but only a butterknife; they didn't have anything so dangerous that it could actually cut meat--and proceeded to get my food. Picked up some potatoes. Got me some white rice. Got me some salad. I was kinda sick of the food they carry. Having everything I needed, I went to sit down where I normally sit. Except I was interrupted: Tom (clickity if you don't know who that is) had tapped me on the shoulder. In my disbelief, I must've looked quite unsettled. He invited me to sit with the group. He explained that there were 9 people there, so even though Clay was there, it probably wouldn't be awkward. In my defense, I said that I could leave if it was a problem: "I don't eat much anyway. I can leave if it gets awkward." He says okay and tells me where they're sitting.
I walked over to the center of the room with a confidence that could not be shaken--except I was faking. Inside, I was still trying to fit things together. I thought I was voted off the table. Wouldn't everybody else hate me? Why is it okay now? Why not before now? Why wasn't I told earlier? Despite my convictions, I felt I could trust Tom. So I kept searching for Renu, for Bobby, for the other 7 people that might be there.
They were in the corner, where we normally convened for lunch- dinner- and, on occasion, breakfast. It was nostalgic. I felt a nervousness eating at my insides like something in an old alien flick. I set my dinner tray down and slung my jacket and bag over a chair at corner of the table. Then I realized I didn't have a drink.
Coming back, I sat down--same place where I'd put my tray. Tom was already there, and we began to catch up. He asked how things'd been going. I responded rather awkwardly--wouldn't wanna show that I was hurt; kinda felt like crying, but didn't; I think he knew anyway. I handed the baton over to him: asked how things'd been for him.
"Honors Engineering's been stressful. We just finished with the semester project. We got these lego pieces, a [something computer], and some lectures on how to program it, and they told us to make a robot that could run an obstacle course. We couldn't use wheels though, which sucked; it had to be able to walk."
"I remember doing something like that in high school. It was a national thing, and you'd get a group. Like an after-school club group thing, and you were given lego parts and such and were told to make it run an obstacle course. Depending on how you did on each of the obstacles, you were ranked against everybody else in the nation, and you won or lost. We could use wheels though. Would've sucked if we couldn't."
We kept talking with almost no interference from anybody else. I wasn't sure if it was that people didn't want to talk to me, or because they were simply entertained of themselves. There were after all five of them--two hadn't come yet.
Our conversation came back to Bobby and Clay being cloud 9. We'd touched on it earlier. I had just noticed that Clay carried his eyes differently when he was high. "Nailed it." That-guy-whose-name-I-still-don't-know, lets call him Guy, had been reticent to talk with anybody today--maybe he felt weird with me being around, my black attire was pretty intimidating--but he said something to Tom. He'd been trying to get his attention for a while. I wasn't sure if Tom was ignoring him out of sympathy for me, or if he simply hadn't noticed. Anyway, Guy said something to Tom--all in all they talked for maybe 30 seconds. I couldn't make out what Guy was saying. They were both calm though. And it's not like he was whispering. I decided to attribute it to our distance and the loudness of the room, then drop it. So I did.
I talked to Tom for a while longer until his cell phone rang. He'd gotten a text. He explained that he'd forgot he needed to meet his engineering group today. He quickly gathered his things, said goodbye to the group, and left. I felt weird staying after he left, like I'd outstayed my welcome or something. Nobody else had done anything to warrant such a conclusion, but I left even despite.
I got up from my chair to grab my jacket and bag, except they weren't there. After a quick survey of nearby chairs, I found them on Renu's chair. Not sure how to approach her about it, I tapped her on the shoulder and asked her if I could get my jacket. I was meekish, but polite--probably not the best way to get attention, no? She said sorry, got up, and helped me get my jacket. She seemed embarrassed. I wondered if she was also high, because her reaction seemed abnormally excited.
So I left, and now I'm here. Started watching a movie before I wrote this. You know, to gather my thoughts. But I'm still not sure what to think of it. In retrospect, the problem character, Clay, was high. That there was probably the real reason Tom didn't mind me sitting at the table. I really don't know what to think. I'm not sure if I wasn't picking up on some latent tension. I'm not sure if people felt bad. Except Tom, I know he felt bad. I'm not sure what to think.
I think that if I was advising myself, I would tell me to go ahead and ask if I could join them for dinner again some other time. But even still, I think I'm silly to think that. They'll just say no, probably. It'd be awkward.
It wasn't a deep slumber, but it beat paying attention to people go on about pedestrian safety. But after waking up a few times, I decided to risk moving to a desk for comfort. I wasn't met with any resistance from the staff, but I figure it might still impact my grade. Oh well.
Class ended in nostalgia: a bell rang signaling the end of the final presentation. It reminded me of high school. People flooded out.
The morning's sleet had become the day's rain, and I was still wearing my nice black dress shirt. So I umbrella-ed myself as best I could with my jacket. There was a bus pulling up. Lucky me. I hurried to board.
Once inside, I sat in the back--you know, where the heater is. I shook off my umbrella- jacket. People glared. I opened my bag. The leather gloves I'd found earlier were still there. They fit me too.
I found them on the floor while taking the bus to my second class. They were on the floor. If I hadn't taken them, somebody else would've. And it's not likely that, even if they weren't taken, that the owner would ever see them again--they were nice. I'm sure the bus driver would've taken them if he'd had the chance.
A bunch of children flooded the bus. I was confused. Others were too--except the girlies: they were excited. I scooted to the left to make room.
The bus was full for a long time--longer than the bus ride should've taken, it seemed. But I didn't complain. I saw a kid drawing on the window. Bored, I did the same. It must've been weird for them, seeing a black clad adult drawing with his finger on the bus window--I'm sure their parents told them not to.
People stood up. I couldn't see the exit. Panicked, I stood up to see where we were. I couldn't see where we were. Panicked, I walked to the exit. We were halfway to my stop. I sat down. I felt silly sitting back down. I felt it would be sillier to stand back up. I stayed sitting down.
The bus began to move again until it stopped again and a man--chaperons, probably--said something and walked with the kids out the bus. The bus started moving again.
It was a few more stops until it reached mine. When I got out, the dining court--mess hall--was right there. Being that I skipped lunch to sleep, I was kinda hungry; I went in.
I got my tray. Picked out a fork, a spoon, a knife--but only a butterknife; they didn't have anything so dangerous that it could actually cut meat--and proceeded to get my food. Picked up some potatoes. Got me some white rice. Got me some salad. I was kinda sick of the food they carry. Having everything I needed, I went to sit down where I normally sit. Except I was interrupted: Tom (clickity if you don't know who that is) had tapped me on the shoulder. In my disbelief, I must've looked quite unsettled. He invited me to sit with the group. He explained that there were 9 people there, so even though Clay was there, it probably wouldn't be awkward. In my defense, I said that I could leave if it was a problem: "I don't eat much anyway. I can leave if it gets awkward." He says okay and tells me where they're sitting.
I walked over to the center of the room with a confidence that could not be shaken--except I was faking. Inside, I was still trying to fit things together. I thought I was voted off the table. Wouldn't everybody else hate me? Why is it okay now? Why not before now? Why wasn't I told earlier? Despite my convictions, I felt I could trust Tom. So I kept searching for Renu, for Bobby, for the other 7 people that might be there.
They were in the corner, where we normally convened for lunch- dinner- and, on occasion, breakfast. It was nostalgic. I felt a nervousness eating at my insides like something in an old alien flick. I set my dinner tray down and slung my jacket and bag over a chair at corner of the table. Then I realized I didn't have a drink.
Coming back, I sat down--same place where I'd put my tray. Tom was already there, and we began to catch up. He asked how things'd been going. I responded rather awkwardly--wouldn't wanna show that I was hurt; kinda felt like crying, but didn't; I think he knew anyway. I handed the baton over to him: asked how things'd been for him.
"Honors Engineering's been stressful. We just finished with the semester project. We got these lego pieces, a [something computer], and some lectures on how to program it, and they told us to make a robot that could run an obstacle course. We couldn't use wheels though, which sucked; it had to be able to walk."
"I remember doing something like that in high school. It was a national thing, and you'd get a group. Like an after-school club group thing, and you were given lego parts and such and were told to make it run an obstacle course. Depending on how you did on each of the obstacles, you were ranked against everybody else in the nation, and you won or lost. We could use wheels though. Would've sucked if we couldn't."
We kept talking with almost no interference from anybody else. I wasn't sure if it was that people didn't want to talk to me, or because they were simply entertained of themselves. There were after all five of them--two hadn't come yet.
Our conversation came back to Bobby and Clay being cloud 9. We'd touched on it earlier. I had just noticed that Clay carried his eyes differently when he was high. "Nailed it." That-guy-whose-name-I-still-don't-know, lets call him Guy, had been reticent to talk with anybody today--maybe he felt weird with me being around, my black attire was pretty intimidating--but he said something to Tom. He'd been trying to get his attention for a while. I wasn't sure if Tom was ignoring him out of sympathy for me, or if he simply hadn't noticed. Anyway, Guy said something to Tom--all in all they talked for maybe 30 seconds. I couldn't make out what Guy was saying. They were both calm though. And it's not like he was whispering. I decided to attribute it to our distance and the loudness of the room, then drop it. So I did.
I talked to Tom for a while longer until his cell phone rang. He'd gotten a text. He explained that he'd forgot he needed to meet his engineering group today. He quickly gathered his things, said goodbye to the group, and left. I felt weird staying after he left, like I'd outstayed my welcome or something. Nobody else had done anything to warrant such a conclusion, but I left even despite.
I got up from my chair to grab my jacket and bag, except they weren't there. After a quick survey of nearby chairs, I found them on Renu's chair. Not sure how to approach her about it, I tapped her on the shoulder and asked her if I could get my jacket. I was meekish, but polite--probably not the best way to get attention, no? She said sorry, got up, and helped me get my jacket. She seemed embarrassed. I wondered if she was also high, because her reaction seemed abnormally excited.
So I left, and now I'm here. Started watching a movie before I wrote this. You know, to gather my thoughts. But I'm still not sure what to think of it. In retrospect, the problem character, Clay, was high. That there was probably the real reason Tom didn't mind me sitting at the table. I really don't know what to think. I'm not sure if I wasn't picking up on some latent tension. I'm not sure if people felt bad. Except Tom, I know he felt bad. I'm not sure what to think.
I think that if I was advising myself, I would tell me to go ahead and ask if I could join them for dinner again some other time. But even still, I think I'm silly to think that. They'll just say no, probably. It'd be awkward.