New Semester, Same Old Thoughts

Thursday night, must be class time. Once again, I'm hanging and ogling at the Bistro and naturally Brett walks in for our weekly pulchritude peek. He thinks our class, "History of Sports in America", is somewhere it isn't, so I get his logistics straight. I do this a lot.

Brie walked in, looking gorgeous as ever, with a cute blonde in tow. Liz turned out to be a veteran hockey player who played forward for the Trinity Bantams. The women's game must be different from the hockey I know because she looked like she had all her teeth. (Have you ever seen a male hockey player smile? It's what started the expression "holey moley"). Liz's breezy blonde good looks were a fine complement to Brie's brunette magnetic charm. I looked around for a hot redhead(then we'd have Charley's Angels) but (alas) none appeared. So we went off to class.

Clearly Professor Goldstein's class is NOT the gut course I was hoping for. He chairs the History department at the U. of Hartford. A five page, prose written "lesson plan" is required, plus a twenty page term paper. Plus a lot of reading of academe-style books with tons of 4 syllable words. 7 members of my blogging class are here, and a number of others who obviously know how to write. I'm looking for heated discussions on a reasonably high plane, which I've never had when the subject is sports. Most of those ended with "yer mama", particularly if the other person was a Yankee fan.

Sidebar: when we all introduced ourselves, a tiny, kinda cute lady across from me announced that she was the School's assistant girl's hockey coach. Aside from the fact that she looked barely old enough to be an undergraduate, she had a very feminine, somewhat delicate appearance. After my barely controlled double-take, I concluded that if all female hockey players are as attractive as the two I've met, I've missed way too many hockey games. Note to self: correct that next year.

Off to read about sports. Homework, you know. Life is tough.

Later.