Today was See You At the Pole. So I got up about an hour early. The positive aspects to that were 1. seeing the pretty sunrise colors with the mountain. (Yes, I took two pictures. No, I don't have my camera with me as I right this.) and 2. getting to pray with other Christians at my school. There weren't many people there, but there were some, and it was nice. I think most of the Christians forgot or didn't know it was today or had a class at 7:00. Or they were like me last year and wanted to sleep. But the moral of the story is, I'm about an hour extra tired, so that by my third class at 11 I tried making a colorful design to stay in a reasonable state for absorbing lecture. Then I had a piece of peppermint gum, which worked quite well. Maybe I was mostly hungry. For my fourth class, following my lunch hour, I felt hyper. For my fifth class (directly following my fourth)...

That's what I especially wanted to write about. My fifth class is interpreted. I feel like I shouldn't watch it - like watching it is unfair to the interpreters. But sometimes I do watch. Today, I could see the interpreter well most of the time, and I didn't want to just sit listening to the lecture (not interesting enough or I was restless?). So I watched. The problem is, the interpreters can see me. And I'm pretty sure they can know I am watching and understanding. Eye contact and communication. Being part and yet not a part of this other world. But for a moment, or moments, I was understanding, and I'm pretty sure the eye contact was there. I miss being understood in sign language and listening in sign language.

Before long, I was walking through campus, looking at one of the impressive (for my part of the world) buildings with college students in front and thinking, "Who would go there? I wouldn't." And then remembering that I ACTUALLY was going to that college. So much for that idea. Apparently I would.