с соусом неудачника

Translation: with sauce of failure.

I am now back at Notre Dame (glory, glory, hallelujah!). In the past 72 hours...

• My laptop has been opened 5 times total, including this time.
• I have stayed up until 3:30am once.
• I have woken up without an alarm at 7am every single day.
• No gluten has passed through these lips.
• I have only skipped one meal.
• My rector encouraged all of the hall residents to be bitches this year (... meaning, obviously, Babe In Total Control of Herself. We ignore the O.)
• One of my classes learned that our professor is not only cute, Irish, and old, but also the uncle of Evanna Lynch, a.k.a. Luna Lovegood.
• I have attended 2 ISI meetings. (2 more in the next 36 hours! Just like old times. Except more.)
• I have only worn a skirt once. To Riley's chagrin.
• I have developed a healthy fear for the last 2 weeks of the semester (so. many. backloaded. classes.)
• I have been re-convinced of my desperate need to study Russian. Because... соус неудачника.

I got to Russian class yesterday, my first class of the semester, and my professor begins spouting out 20 minutes of fluent, rather fast Russian. Which would be a bit of a shock to begin with, even if she did not keep calling me Катя (Katya), which is traditionally not the name I have gone by in Russian class. She asked us what we did this summer. My response? ...видно, забыла всё (apparently, forgotten everything).

The other classes yesterday were more promising. Children's Literature looks like the best English class EVER EVER EVER, and did I mention it's taught by Luna Lovegood's uncle? Yeah, he's adorable and brilliant. And the booklist is fantastic. The one problem is that the only real assignment is a significant paper at the end of the semester.

I was late to my Brother's Karamazov class, which was embarrassing, but okay. It'll be good. The prof is my favorite, and I know a lot of people in the class. Again, the only problem is that the only real assignment is a significant paper at the end of the semester.

Today I am visiting different classes, and I will decide which one to keep, because TWELVE CREDITS YAY. This morning was a Theo class on the Psalms, which I'm a little unsure about. The professor is all kinds of intelligent, but it felt kind of like he was teaching a class of middle schoolers. I don't know if he is quite comfortable with a level of student that is neither child nor super motivated grad student. But they are reading Bonhoeffer, C. S. Lewis, Isaac Watts, Thomas Aquinas, and other cool people... and the whole Psalter in 2 weeks. Which is never a bad thing.

I love life here.