Quills and Spills?

I spent today at Orientation Part II and running around the Nameless campus trying to finalize the things that must be final in time for me to start classes on Monday. I met one of my professors and the faculty people I talked to all seemed great, and I even met TWO administrative people who didn't completely suck and knew what they were doing and were able to solve my issues. And I am now actually excited about all of my classes. I'm taking not one but two creative non-fiction classes (one in the English Department, one in the Fiction Writing Department), Fiction I, and magazine journalism. I may be insane taking four intensive writing classes, but if I am going to be a writer I will need to be writing intensely, and this way I will have a good sense of which writing route I want to go by the end of my first semester, thus leaving me plenty of time to pursue whichever I choose.

On my way through the turnstile going into the El the heel of my very cute and only moderately impractical boots slipped on a wet patch and I went down, landing on my hands and knees and bumping my head on the turnstile. It sucked. I think I pulled a few somethings and bruised myself rather impressively. After I got myself up again the woman behind me pointed at my feet as if to say "that's what you get for wearing attractive shoes." I punched her in the face.