We like to praise birds for flying. But how much of it is actually flying, and how much of it is just sort of coasting from the previous flap?

It's Sunday morning and the sky is gawgeous. I started classes a week ago and I still haven't gotten around to writing about my teachers. So, here goes:

Linguistics: Professor Harold von Syntax. He seems nice enough, and I don't have any serious problems, it's just when I do the reading I can see how amazing this stuff is and he's a little less firecracker than I would have hoped. He's kind of mouse-like, and the closest he gets to pure enthusiasm is a sort of shrill nervousness. He is short with very dark, very short hair. He clears his throat often and wears crisp shirts. He seems like a momma's boy, like any second Mrs. von Syntax will come out, spit on her thumb and start wiping his cheek, telling him he's got schmutz. And he'll say mother, will you stop? That's not schmutz, that's facial hair! And she'll say Harry, mein Liebschen*, who are you kidding, you're not old enough to grow facial hair.

And then directly after that I have Deutsch, with Nina Merolle, who's aces in my book. My first German teacher is someone I'll never truly get over, but she was older, a lot more nurturing, and very, how you say, Americanized. Prof. Merolle is about twenty-six I'd say, very spry, hilarious, and so German she makes me feel like for an hour a day I'm there again. It's great! She has that unexpected directness that I love about the German folk, so there are no awkward, superficial formalities about anything. If you're wrong, she doesn't grab the spoon and the applesauce, she just says "Falsch!" loudly and clearly, and with a big grin. There are other German mannerisms I've missed since I was last in the land of beer and schnitzel, but it's almost difficult to pick them apart and describe them, so I shan't, for now.

Then Peace and Conflict studies with Prof. Giovannini. She's Italian, very emotional, lots of hand gestures and very brilliant. She worked with the UN in Lebanon and Palestine, so she has plenty to say, if the class would stop wasting 1/3 of the class with their ego stroking, trying to prove that they belong there. I have a feeling this class is going to be incredible.

Finally, my English seminar on media theory. Small class of about fifteen or twenty students, with a teacher whose brain is like a bottle of champagne that's spilling all over the room. She's wide-eyed, always wearing straight knee length dresses, and she is really good at turning your ideas inside out. She makes it so we're constantly a little disoriented and dizzy, which has so far proven to be a great environment for coming up with odd ideas about literature. More on her later. These introductions feel so forced, but I need a framework for later details. She's an excited and exciting teacher.

I also started taking piano lessons with Heather, this 27-year-old jazz composer who lives about fifteen blocks away. It's a really pretty walk to her house, and my fingers love the exercise. Right now I'm at the basics: learning the scales of C, G & D. Then learning those same basic chords and their inversions, and also a little bit of learning to read sheet music. Heather is great. She answered the door in fishnets and a vintage dress, and she had Radiohead posters and strange little knick-knacks all over her studio. I'm gonna do whatever it takes to support my $50 a week habit.

I've got a lot of reading to do, but I'll be sure to update after my first archery club meeting on Wednesday.



*changed to accommodate newer, more Teutonic last name