let lemons be angry

My class has taken to playing isketch, paper-isketch, and charades. We play these games everywhere. Corridors and lectures and computer labs. "Ok ok i have one! Two words!" Joyce will say, and immediately act out, for example, a boy doing ballet, while bewildered zoo visitors or students look on at us shouting out guesses. Even the old ones join in, forgetting that they used to pretend to be cool. The image of huge Mr 26 playing charades won't be forgotten easily. Or Mr Pole 25 jumping up and down chanting "isketch! isketch!" every single day, and sitting on the floor between us in the lecture theatre so that he could play win lose or draw with us. He's so old that the professor didn't even bother telling him to sit properly.

I guess we've all finally come out of our shells. Those miserable shells of expected behaviour and Attitude. I was making monkeypuppet and alligator sounds in the zoo, and this girl said to me, "wow, you really spoil your own image!"

And I like it, this class full of girls hurling insults and counterattacks, hugging and whining and game-playing. We have the oldest and tallest people in ADM, the shortest (not me, if you were wondering), and also the youngest (again, not me)! I will miss them sorely when we part next semester. But there's always the exciting promise of discovering that other strangers are just as silly beneath their shells.

And. Unless you are in favour of eerie fighting babies and fake-sci-fi, do not watch Baby Geniuses.