Snow

You know those Grandpa stories about walking to school in the snow?

They're true, and I'm living them. It's not as bad as you think, because it is not all that cold (in fact, the movement + warm clothes keeps me from feeling cold at all) and it's rather pretty when you're not in a hurry to get to school by 7:45 (when class starts) and your train was late (arrived at 7:35) and it normally takes you 25 minutes to get from train station to school. So I was 15 minutes late for history, but Germans don't count tardies, so it's okay.

Chemistry Highlight of the Day (Because I know you can't live without them)
Frau Collin was discussing some sort of fear of being shot at school by angry students or something.
Chubie: That's like not going to the bank because someone might rob it when you go in.
Petzi: Good thing there's online banking!

German Highlights of the Day (Sometimes this class is so boring, and then there are days like today, when it is so funny)
Herr Friedl wrote four lines from the play on the board.
HF: What do these four lines have in common?
Viktor: They're in German?

Tobias has to summarize the end of Act 5 for class on Monday, and he had a question about one of the characters.
T: Herr Friedl, I don't know who this guy is- did he show up in the play before?
HF: Yes, it was Act One. The Act you slept through.
T: Oh, right.

And then I wished the train would come to Aichach much earlier because I hate waiting until 1:40 when I get out of school at 12:55 (I was at the train station at 1:20). . . I did at least not have to walk home from the train station because Basti came to pick me up- this means less dealing with snow and earlier lunch, which pretty much makes me really happy right now.

I'm halfway doing English homework and I found a rather interesting article on religion that you might enjoy, because I thought it was pretty good. If you really like it, grab Shaw's Androcles and the Lion, because it is basically the same idea plus a clever play and a lot more communist undertones.

Final Thought:
"An electronically transmitted voice is not a real voice. We've all grown used to these simulacra of ourselves, but when you stop and think about it, the telephone is an instrument of distortion and fantasy. It's communication between ghosts, the verbal secretions of minds without bodies. I want to be able to see the person I'm talking to. If I can't, I'd rather not talk at all."
Don't ask me how computers fit into this scheme, as this quote is c. 1967, but I love the idea, and a copy of the book it's from, Moon Palace, would make me pretty happy, in case you were wondering.