Third day of classes, and I’m back in the mindset of a careful sponge. I try not to sound too pedantic or too shy, roll my eyes at the list of journals we’re supposed to look up to develop good study habits, hang my attention on the space between the proff’s lips and teeth, trying to catch his drift before he elaborates. I am both new and old. Gone are the days when I walked into a classroom and recognized no one. Now it is only a matter or remembering where I have seen these people. In one class are a boy from my hometown and a boy I met at the Big Haus, a girl whose band I interviewed for an article in the school paper and another boy, an ex-classmate of a friend, who we watched The Usual Suspects with us the night Bess and I got hit by a drunk driver. I don’t imagine they remember me. I lean across the aisle and say hi to one of them. I’m right.
Despite the farmilliarity I am not heartbroken to be still at UI. Yesterday afternoon I liotered downtown, buying a baguette and cheese with Ash, sitting on a bench and eating almost the whole thing in the mild chill of an odd January. I like that I can do that in this town, and then walk home in the drizzle.
Botkin Creative 
do I get to make fun of you for that ‘careful sponge’ thing? “We now return to the PBS National Geographic special on the vagrant benthos. Watch how the sponge carefully absorbs the coffee that has been spilled on the table. Will this enhance its chances of survival? (CGI graphics of the cellular mesh of the sponge turning brown.) Absorbtion complete. The sponge has made a life changing decision, a decision that will influence its diet, its propogation, and in the end, its place in evolution (pronounced with a long e.).”
Careful Sponge. It would be a good band name.