Mi nombre es Billy Madison

Remember Billy Madison's first day of high school (the second time) when he drove up in his Firebird rocking out to Billy Squier's The Stroke? I felt a twinge of that same older-person-in-younger-atmosphere on Monday, the first day of classes of the fall semester.

I had registered for class, paid my tuition, had my lunch packed up and boots tied tight and was on my way to the first day fall semester classes Monday at the illustrious university known as Northern Virginia Community College. I had attended this fine institution for a short time earlier in life just after high school but am now returning in order to acquire some Spanish skillz.

There were a few key differences that I noted right away. The first is that the school added a new building in the past few years and the majority of the classes are held in that building instead of the old. The parking lots have been expanded and some landscaping has changed, but the old building is pretty much the same. The library has the same 1970's look and feel to it, save the updated computers. I was pleased for the school to notice that while they still had desktop computers on their desktops all of the monitors were flat screens. It shows that the school can make some progress, even if it is just progressing to the early 2000s.

As I was walking on the sidewalk to find my Spanish class I observed two Indian girls (dots, not feathers) speaking with one another. This is a typical scene because those people are everywhere so I didn't pay much attention to it. As I looked away from the girl who was talking to the girl who was listening I immediately had a moment a clear recognition. I recognized the listening girl as Jyoti Ngongogo. That's not her last name but I guarantee it's eerily similar. I never knew her last name, just her first. I knew her as a fellow student who also participated in the same process I did to transfer to Virginia Tech. I walked past the two girls without saying anything. We weren't really friends then and I don't want to be friends now. That would be an interesting conversation though. "Hey, Jyoti. Remember me from a biology class we had here over ten years ago?" "No."

While walking through the new building toward my third floor classroom I noticed the campus buzzing with people new to the "college life" and just hanging out between classes. Those were the days. No real focus, no real responsibility. It all reinforced how far I've gone from then till now and hammered home those differences. There were some basic differences between my first NOVA experience and this one. First, I drove my own car, not my mom's. It seemed that everyone who was hanging out and not engaged in gossiping about their most recent Facebook extravaganza was on a cell phone, half chatting, half texting. I also noticed a handful of people waiting along the curb waiting to be picked up by a parent or friend. This is also when I realized that the majority of these people still live at home.

I got to the classroom and took a seat in the little desk/chair combo things. It's been a while since I sat in one of these and it brought back fond memories of learning. The teacher walked in and the class eventually quieted down. He took "roll" and everyone was said "here" except for one girl who should probably be in an advanced course because she apparently knows some Spanish already. When her name was called, she he said "aqui."

The teacher appeared to be in his fifties, wore khakis with a tucked in polo shirt which was stretched over his belly, grey hair, and had dark-framed glasses. You could kinda tell by the way he walked in, but when he began speaking you could tell he was super Fabulous!

I think the teacher and the class will be great. I've already connected some dots of Spanish that I already had. I feel like I may pick this language up with no issues and be great at it.

Wish me Bon Chance! ...I mean, Buena Suerte!