Fields of Red

I am currently between classes, sitting in the quite un-aptly named "Good Cafe" enjoying some American hits of the 80's and 90's. Trust me; it is as absurd as it sounds. I just finished rocking out to some Vanilla Ice.

Our first class was this morning, and as with most first classes, it was very brief. Our professor is James Redfield, one of the most prominent and distinguished classicists in the world. We're really lucky to have him, I realize now. He's a fantastic lecturer was a bit concerned when he made an announcement the other day because his physical appearance is quite reminiscent of Harry Caray. Not in his good years either. In the last few years when he would mistakenly call a ground ball for a strikeout or begin comparing things to juicy hot dogs. Professor Redfield most certainly has that partially senile look about him, but is in fact on top of his game. He's a wealth of knowledge and is great at conveying it, at least so far. This first class looks very promising.

Soon, I'll be off to Intermediate Italian, which also should be fun. There's a small group of 6 of us that are in that section, and we've all become friends. Maggie, our Italian teacher, is a grad student at Chicago and also serves as our liaison at the hotel. Class with her will be a blast. Or perhaps even molto bene.

The time has come. Ciao ragazzi!