Just in case anyone was wondering, I survived my first night at GSU. My dry run last Saturday served me well as parking and classes were found with time to spare. As I was sitting in front of the General Classrooms building waiting for my first class, I noticed that everything looked like 1973. The clothes that the kids were wearing, except for a few gangsta wanna-bees, could have all been purchased at the Bargain Store in Alpharetta in the early seventies. Another thing I noticed is: they all smoke. There were cigarette butts everywhere, perhaps more cigarette butts than there are numbers. One smoke-sensitive student sitting beside me on the concrete bench exclaimed out loud, "Is there anywhere I can go to get away from all this smoke!" I gave him the nod of understanding and found another place to sit just in case he burst into some sort of fit and started flailing his arms. Also, the General Classrooms building in front of me looked like the exterior to the high-rise, low-rent apartment from "Good Times". All doo doo brown, burnt orange, and concrete. I could not help but think that somehow I had been transported back to my childhood. "Wow, wouldn't it be cool to have another chance to get things right?", I thought as a skinny Spanish girl with more booty than a little bit, sat down beside me. "I could be cool this time, and all the chicks would like me", I continued to dream. But as I looked around at all of the army jackets, sideburns and lumpy Afro hair-do’s, I had this feeling that even if I had another crack at my life, I would not be cool. I could only be me.
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