As I looked outside at the blaring sun that beat down upon the sidewalk ferociously I decided I was grateful to be sitting in an air-conditioned bus, even though the driver was on crack. I had never been on a bumpier, jerkier bus ride in all my life; the stops were sudden and shaky, the acceleration even more so. Poor, poor crack head driver man.

Today I am elated. I have just been informed that the TA thought my fingerprint to be worthy of a better grade, and that three other graduate students saw my work and agreed along with Larry bear (TA).

“In my opinion, grading was the hardest thing. We would go around the room, and he would hand out Bs to work that I thought barely deserving of a D. And then we would come across prints that I thought were A’s, and he would give worse grades. I think you should have done better, you did good work.”

Oh, divine, sweet positive if mild moral support! Ever since being infuriated by the C+ I received on my fingerprint I had truly begun to doubt my capability, and wondering if I had the talent for what I yearn to do. I am very relieved to hear appreciation for what I spent 62 hours on.

Our current project involves folding paper, even though it is not (as Prof. Adams informs us again and again) origami. I’m enjoying it thoroughly; I will have to post a picture.

I step off the bus and hop onto the sidewalk. In 33 minutes I watch the second session of general conference, and then hopefully go shopping for boots. I shall also have to call Elisse again, because she has disappeared. I cross the busy street, wincing into the blinding sun. Soon, I think, soon this heat will flee and the softest white will cover this city.

I don’t know if I yearn for that or dread it.