Fall Leaves, But Always Comes Back

First day of school! First day of school!

I never, ever, ever cease to be excited about the first day of school. In every step of my education - kindergarten, middle school, high school, community college, and now UCF - I get this glorious feeling right about fall. It's the feeling of expectation, the hunger for new knowledge. If I may borrow Reagan's words, it's the "hunger to explore the universe and discover its truths." It's that "special grace, that special spirit that says, 'Give me a challenge, and I'll meet it with joy.'"

I'm now about to start my third semester at UCF (ninth semester of college counting BCC and summer semesters), and my feelings are as mixed a bag as ever there was. On one hand, I feel as though I've been going to school forever and that I'm ready for it to end. On the other, school is still fun, learning is still important, and I still love briskly walking across campus with the wind in my face. I'll never feel quite as comfortable as when I have the weight of a dozen oversized textbooks in my backpack, and my glasses, phone, keys, wallet, and iPod all stuffed in my jean's pockets.

This semester, I'm taking six classes: one online economics course with John Hilston, one finance and one statistics with Liquiang Ni, a writing class with Clayton Benjamin, another statistics with Nizam Uddin, and some class in computer science that involves Boolean algebra and discrete structures taught by Shaojie Zhang.

After this semester, only four classes will stand between me and the real world. It's the world of careers, employers, commutes and corner offices, desks and deadlines, punch clocks and paychecks. I'm so excited, so scared, so hesistant, and so completely ready to be there. But until then...

I am a student. I am a senior. And I love school.

There will always be something magical about fall.

Jibber Jabber Wocky Talky

I wrote the majority of this years ago. It's increasingly nonsensical. Enjoy.

Upon a time, too long ago,
Lived one gwux man, named Freegoy Flo.
A mencil man, he prethied much
And caused the gods to fight, as such:
Zeus would steal all Hanwop’s sheep
And Gertha branged on Dempla’s yeep
And as they fought and shagramed whex
The people were in truth, perplexx.

Frency dwith the mangled yore
Until all sport became a boar.
Down and up, the fyzer flew,
Flue straight fast and tarried too.
The shadows lengthened, tumult rose
And with each dweth, the hums suppose.
Unite all though had conquered grim,
Standfast markwash kickle sim.

With vorpal sword, volumptious might,
He killed the antwang bwilf its fright.
Longtime he crazelled in the grane,
Longtime the sound rang tru agane.
And with each frethsome step he welched,
He swallowed, gulped, and blightly belched.
With trinian blood upon his coat,
He ended thus his merthvan zoat.

And tho the zote had ended thus,
The teedle cream takes crove a fuss.
Tay wocked a run, umbril a zoo
Of angel's rays, congruence too.
Naver rocking, alway bold
Of ancient reins, of millow's gold.
Bringlee zightly, borth ungrave.
Hadle cramecay, chuters trave.