I get sick to my stomach during your class and not because I dislike you. I think there are too many people in one room for my personal tastesI start to feel claustrophobic. However, it's fun to people watch with such a large "sample. " There is a 3D icon on my computer and it reminds me that I like graphic design. I feel like a fool writing this. I've started a majority of the sentences with "I"a bad habit. I also don't know whether I'm not even supposed to write in complete sentences. This is what I'm thinking right now, though. Is this because I'm typing at a computer or because I think in sentences? Maybe I think in sentences, but it seems like it would be a waste of time. Surely it's easier to label things as I would see them and without pronouns, verbs, etc. There are green and red squiggly lines correcting my grammar and spelling at the top of this paper. Think I should correct that? I'm not expecting a response by the way. I realize that any answer you may have I would receive far too late to correct any errors I might have. My first class of everyday is Latin. I only thought of this because I don't like/am not very good at foreign language and have a lot of homework to complete by tomorrow morning. Another squiggly green line. Damn. Oops, another. Perhaps you're wondering about the origins of my surname. Well, I'll tell you. My great grandparents (on my Dad's side) came here from Russia. Our name was Wachovsky. At Ellis Island they chopped it down to Wachs. My great, great, grandfather was a Lithuanian Rabbi who killed himself by trying to lift a cow over a fence. I get a laugh out of that. I never met my mom's dad. Actually, not even my dad met him. He died in his forties from cancer. Pancreatic I believe. My other grandpa died when I was 2 and a half. Interestingly enough, he "retired from life. " A week before he passed he took my father aside, his other son he was much closer to, and told my dad that he was ready to go. My dad got mad, "What are you saying? You have two new grandkids, there's lots to see. " Etc. , etc. He insisted he was ready and my dad was pissed off at him. Didn't speak to him the next week. His brother, my uncle, was in Las Vegas when he died. As much as it makes me angry, that's one of my favorite stories. My grandpa has always had a mythical aura around him and that tidbit only lends validity to it. I just found out a few months ago that he had another daughter with someone other than my grandma. My grandma knew, but didn't mindit was before they got married. My grandma also is dead and my dad and uncle knew very few details about it. When I got back from Las Vegaswhere I was told of the newsI looked through my Grandpa's old wallet, something that apparently everyone else forgot to do. There were only a few pictures in there. My grandma, my uncle, my dad, and this little girl with a blue dress. My grandma told my dad that Grandpa gave a blue dress to her on her 5th birthday. Speaking of favorite stories, I got a job back home at a video store. I worked there because I was enamored with the manager; she's only a few years older. But she's great, hilarious, beautiful, everything and there's no one who doesn't like her. Before she opened the store one day she was in the local Fry's supermarket and this older lady came up to her and said, "You are beautiful. " Meredith, the manager, said, "thank you" and went on her way. Then she realized the lady didn't have to do that and that was a very nice thing to do. So she went over to the florist, bought a bunch of flowers, found the lady, and gave them to her. The lady thought it was so nice that she invited her to dinner that night. I think that's a beautiful story.