But honestly, it's been freaking cold lately, especially in SF. Obviously, I'm glad it's not some fucked up weather day, one of those days where its 100 degrees in late december; that you know global warming has punched the earth in the face and now it doesn't know what to do as it's sprawled out on the galactic ringfloor. Yet today it was just right, cold.
So anyways, day two entitled "Mass Media and Communications"(Journalism) from 2ish-330 and my favorite "Latino/a Cinema" from 4ish-7. The day started pretty good, slept a good 4 hours, so I was less disoriented than usual. The good part of going to school in the midday is that I get to do lots of things I wish I could have done while slave-labored in pretty much every grade until the end of high school. Like stay home late, watch Mexican morning news, the E channel, and do morning exercise routines here and there, as well as play on xbox live fa sho. Oh and breakfast. The true feat today was the same as yesterdays, which was to get ready in time to leave an hour and a half before my class began. It was a little rocky, but this being my second semester I have a kind of "system" in place wherein I just leave and get to the BART on time. Complex at times, but oh so successful.
So anyways, the first class was sweet, except for the part about their being about 190 kids in the room for 170. So I had to sit on the staircase in between the two ginormous seated sections. At least I met some pretty interesting folks down there. I have a nirvana arband I probably bought when I was 11 prominently displayed on my backpack strap, so this girl next to me told me it was cool, then showed me it was her favorite band because she has the fuckin' In Utero cover tattooed on her forearm. I was like, that's sweet. The guy behind me was half Mexican and half Japanese, while the Utero girl was Japanese and Irish. I felt crappy being only full Mexican, but alas, whatever(RAZA! yeeeea). Besides the back pain of being awkwardly positioned on the steps for an hour, the instructor (who was a reporter for the Oaktown Tribune for 12 years...AND has a facebook) was hilarious, and looks to be an entertaining professor/teacher/grade giver.
Last class of the day was the 3 hour Raza Cinema class, with the same professor I had for Raza Studies course from last semester. Pretty interesting stuff, learning about how intricate and precise Hollywood cinema subjugates the minorities in film to look, sound, and basically be inferior just by the lighting, angles and position in the frame. Good shit, and I actually read the damn book during my commute home!
On top of this all I got to watch the part of Cheech & Chong where he sings the Mexican-American "protest tune". Since hearing it for the first time my freshman year of high school, I actually understood everything, which made me lol. I don't lol at just anything.
On the BART ride home, an intresting guy came on board, with a mini silver BOOMBFUCKINGBOX bumping Lil Wayne. Annoying as it was (just the whole idea of blasting music I don't want to listen to at the moment, disturbing my rockin' out time with my headphones) it was like the second time that day that a decade walked past me. Earlier at school, the 80's, literally, the fucking 80's walked by me. It was a triad of girls wearing leather jackets, those crazy colored tight pants, smoking ciggarettes etc. It just needed new wave. That was already playing in my head though, so it was crazy.
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