Picking up where I left off...
I moved into my on-campus apartment last Friday. I didn't actually get to unpack most of my stuff, because I didn't have any hangers or any additional drawers to put stuff in. So I mostly just updated myself on a weeks-worth of extremely important internet offerings - Facebook, fmylife, textsfromlastnight, awkwardfamilyphotos, failblog, etc. etc. etc.
I've now met all 3 of my roommates and everyone seems normal and nice so far.
Saturday morning was my program orientation. The faculty and staff all seem very nice so far. The dean is definitely a character...quite a cusser... At one point, he said "If my language offends anyone..." and we all figured he was going to apologize...we didn't expect this ending - "...you're in the wrong field." Good times.
All of the students in my program seem nice as well. There are 12 screenwriting students, and I'm one of two women. Girl power.
Quite a few of the screenwriters and film production students are living on campus. In fact there are seven dispersed in the four apartments above mine, and two 2nd year students up there somewhere as well. We've all been hanging out and getting to know each other and all is well so far.
On Saturday night, we were all invited to an informal meet-and-greet with 2nd and 3rd year students from the program. We went to a local bar and it turns out that this bar (under it's former owners) was the inspiration for a certain bar in a certain animated series that I certainly love. Let's just say...one of the highlights of my life so far. Try not to focus on how sad that is.
Sunday was a lazy-ish day. I went to Target, which ended up being one of the poorer life decisions I've ever made, since the Target I chose is situated nearby to my school as well as 2 or 3 others. The parking lot was ridiculously designed and it was a zoo inside. I got most of what I needed though, including hangers and drawers so I could actually unpack.
Monday was my first day of classes. My screenwriting class was not nearly as bad as I had anticipated.
You see, I was quite nervous before class. I haven't written much in a while and I'm probably a little rusty. I was expecting an intimidating professor to point and shout at me to "WRITE SOMETHING RIGHT NOW!" and then tell me that it was shit. Instead we have a very pleasant woman who started the course slow and easy. Then most of us went out to a little Mexican place near campus for dinner. $8 for a delicious quesadilla with homemade tortillas and tons of chicken...muy bueno. When I got home, it was the first time that all four of us in our apartment were home at the same time, so we sat up talking until after midnight.
So basically I was feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. Which was great because it probably made it much more fun for the universe to crush my soul on Tuesday.
My production seminar class was Tuesday and it was a bit more...intense. It's generally accepted that most screenwriters are not that interested in production. Well...I think there's generally an interest in the elements of it, but not in actually doing it. And this professor stated quite bluntly that while most production professors teach differently to screenwriting students (i.e. make it a little less involved), he will not be doing that. He also says "rad." We all left class with a slightly dazed look on our faces.
Ok so from here on out, I will try to avoid making this a day-by-day account of exactly what I'm doing, I just wanted to cover the basics that most people have been asking me about (roommates and classes). Hopefully this will become some wacky combination of:
- my East Coast-minded observations of life on the West Coast
- insight into the life of a graduate student
- random entertaining things that happen to me
- things that I say in my sleep
Just tell me if I'm being boring or if you want me to write about something in particular.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Continued Introduction
Labels:
girl power,
production,
roommates,
soul crushing,
the bar,
warm and fuzzy
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I hate you for getting mexican.
ReplyDeleteThe End.
If it makes you feel any better, I got grease on one of my favorite shirts. And I know you, so I know that it does make you feel better.
ReplyDeleteyou're not wrong...
ReplyDelete