I am a professional student, it's pretty much what I do. I wouldn't necessarily say that I'm good at, but I don't feel that's required to be a professional. Most of the players for the Houston Texans are considered "Professional" athletes, but judging by their required (0-6), I'm not so sure that any of them are particularly good at it.

I've recently scheduled for classes for the second semester of my sixth (and final) year here at the wonderful Iowa State. It's an impressively weird feeling. This is a place where I have now spent a quarter of life. Until I came here, I lived with my parents and this was the turning point of adulthood. A time where I responsible for myself and my actions. I never planned on being here until arthritis set in, but plans change and the times were good. It occurs to me every time I walk to or from a class that this is my last fall here. Next year at this time, I'll be somewhere different. Somewhere without so many trees changing colors. Somewhere without 24,000 people roaming across campus and lounging in the grass, trying to get some studying in or a quick nap. It's kind of sad. I should probably start taking some pictures, so that when I go senile I'll have something look at and remember my adulthood.

I'm still here and I'm starting to miss it already. I'm actually missing the dorms. It's funny, when you're in the dorms all you can think about is how it'd be nice to get an apartment and have more space, your own room, a kitchen. But then you get out and you have all of these things and you realize that in a way, it was the lack of all those things that made it the most fun. It was having thousands people around to share a great play with. It was running through the halls and down a stairwell to jump up and down with friends with the swish of a made basket. It was the room with computers whirling, tvs flashing, stereos blasting and lights glowing. It was the 4.30 dinner and 10 o'clock second dinner. It was the sleeping til noon because you'd been up until 4 the night before playing some CS. (But hotdamn, the first place rankings were worth it) It was the warm/ inviting feeling of our little space. It was looking at the clock that said 12:04 and realizing that the night was still young and plowing on. It was the all-nighter to finish art projects. It was getting into bed, and then getting out of bed to go move my car. Good thing someone was never fast to sleep and always ready for a cig. It made those little treks up the block in the sub-zero temperatures much more enjoyable. It was someone dropping cheese all over the floor. It was someone nuking the shit out of everything because it might be a little too old and may be a good candidate for curing a bacterial infection, but so long as it's microwaved for the better part of an hour, it'll be ok. It was the destruction of one keyboard because even though in the Mountain Dew commercials the cans fly straight without rotating or spinning, they don't really do that in real life. It was too much tequila and slamming the door in the RA's face because the ground was slippery from all of the aforementioned tequila. It was trying to find the mic. It was cleaning up puke at 3 in the morning and being so awake that the roomie and I stayed up playing football and eating chips and salsa. (An odd choice given the resemblance to puke). It was being able to stay inside on a blizzard and still being able see friends, have 3 meals, play golf down the hallways and play a whole lot of games. It was the cart wheels in the hallway. It was trying to touch the ceiling with the top of your head after a concert. It was eating 5 pounds of animal crackers, or at least watching someone do it. It was sleeping with the window open in the middle of winter because the heat wouldn't turn off. It was also subsequently watching the roomie sit at his computer, somewhat close to the window, try and type as he was wrapped in 3 blankets and a parka. I think the mittens probably made typing somewhat difficult, but he seemed to manage. It was the phone ringing at 9 in the morning and having to somehow get from 6 feet in the air to the ground and across the room. Many injuries occurred do to that damned phone. It was endless hours of Eddie Izzard. It was my first drink. It was a couple people's first drinks. It was the 11 o'clock rearranging that didn't end until 5 in the morning. It was the people, the friends. It was chapters 1, 2 and 3. It was a lifetime ago, and I want to go back.